A river runs through our town - - - the mighty Wisconsin.
Broad are her banks, wide is her girth, no trickling stream is she.
Deep are her waters,
And clear - - -
No muddy Wabash she.
She is prominent in our geography and in our name.
She is a working river, paper mills dot her shores.
The stacks you see rising beyond this scenic bridge betray one mill's location. Fitting that they should be seen here, for this little island, in the middle of the Wisconsin, was once the home of the Mead family, former Mill Kingpins. I am told it is no longer their domain.
I would not know for certain, for this is as close as I have ever come to Mead Island, not being of their reigning ilk.
I wonder who now wields the scepter.
Perhaps their influence lingers on in our town, I know not, but at least this street still bears their name.