Dead artist, his work still a big draw

Here's one of the first one-tank trips from the 2007 series. For those who haven't been to Lucas' Garden of Eden, I'd highly recommend it. My favorite part of this whole story was interviewing Dinsmoor's 79-year-old son, who is a successful professional and lives in Colorado.

For the most part, Lucas and the Garden's owners have kept the site up in good shape.

If you go, Lucas is known for its artists. There's plenty of sculptures and pieces around town, including the World's Largest Travel Plate, which welcomes you into town.

July 29, 2007

A century after it all began and 75 years after his death,
Lucas' Dinsmoor and his works of art are still on display.

By Amy Bickel
The Hutchinson News
abickel@hutchnews.com

LUCAS - You need a flashlight to see S.P. Dinsmoor.

"He's getting kind of moldy," admits tour guide Samantha Schneider as she shined her flashlight toward his head.

His body has shrunken and the black suit he was buried in is rotting. However, even 75 years after his death, folks can look through the glass-sided tomb and see the decomposing creator of Lucas' Garden of Eden.

He's a creator townsfolk heckled as he poured 113 tons of concrete to form one of Kansas' most famous works of art - one that surrounds a little limestone house in this town of 400.

At least, it is the most unusual.

A concrete Adam and Eve greet visitors. Above them, the devil, storks and frolicking children reside. Cain murders Abel, angels, serpents and a watchful eye of the all-seeing deity also are among the 150 sculptures in his garden. It still attracts the curious from around the globe, and Dinsmoor is still there, on display for the world to see if they choose.

Dinsmoor was a Civil War veteran, schoolteacher, farmer, Populist thinker and a forerunner in grassroots art. He started building the limestone cabin home in 1907 at the age of 64, working 22 years on his project until he could no longer see. He died July 21, 1932.

"Not only is it an impressive accomplishment for a retired man to put together, it also is an educational resource for those interested n the history of the Great Plains," said Jon Blumb, Lawrence photographer and president of the Garden of Eden Inc., a group of a dozen or so shareholders who purchased the garden in 1989.

Biblical scenes mingle with political messages. In the back yard, Labor is crucified while Banker, Lawyer, Preacher and Doctor give their approval. On another pillar, an octopus represents monopolies and grabs at the world while a soldier and child are trapped in two of its tentacles. Another concrete tree shows the Goddess of Liberty driving a spear through the head of another octopus and freeing citizens.

"The Goddess of Liberty, the octopus, they are like the typical political cartoons of the time period," Blumb said, adding that the message for America remains relevant today. "Our political situation nowadays could use him," he said. "I'd vote for him."

Today, the Garden of Eden draws thousands to this tiny Russell County town, including grassroots artists like Dinsmoor.

"He didn't even know what that was, but he has been an inspiration for a lot of people," Blumb said of the art movement. "But how could you live in Lucas and not be influenced by Dinsmoor?"

Yet, beyond the tons of concrete, political messages and oddities, the garden's finishing piece is Dinsmoor himself. He built a 40-foot-tall limestone log mausoleum for himself and his first wife. She died in 1917. He remarried a 20-year-old at age 81, had two children, and then died.

His second wife executed his final wishes - to be buried in the mausoleum, his body visible inside the glass-topped concrete coffin and to have visitors be charged at least $1 to see him, Blumb said. Today, the charge is $6 per adult.

An air leak discovered a few years ago has sped up the corpse's decomposing process, tour guide Schneider said.

Dinsmoor's son John, also the youngest living son of a Civil War veteran, said he makes the journey every few years to the garden and the tomb. His father died when he was 4. He lived there until he was 13, however, when his mother sold the property to pay back taxes.

Now 79, John Dinsmoor said he didn't mind seeing his father during his periodical visits.

"I get to look at him eyeball to eyeball," he said. "He's pretty well decomposing, and he's still making money."