Horse Hitches, Draymen, and Icehouses: The History of Moneta, Iowa

Silence engulfed me. The warmth and wholesomeness of yesteryear embraced me. I stood quietly on the main street. The sound of the Rock Island train could be heard in the distance. The train whistle, the locomotive shuffle, and the smokestack release joined other familiar, audible sonances. For it was the sounds of horse hooves, horse hitches, and squeaky wagon wheels that, ceremoniously, were entering Moneta.

And it was just like yesterday. I breathed an aroma that once prevailed in the Gene...