It’s been just over 50 years since I first laid eyes on – and fell in love with – Wisconsin.
After the dull ride through bleak Illinois, my college buddy, Marty, and I entered the green, rolling, exuberant countryside of Wisconsin in its late spring glory and thought we had suddenly entered paradise. The prosperous-looking farms with their gleaming white houses, bulging Holsteins, just-emerging corn and carpets of new alfalfa quickly erased the gloom of Illinois.
Even the University of Wisconsin was a sort of bucolic haven.