Guest Column

My afternoon at the Methodist Friendship Tea in little Cooper was a real slice of Iowa life

The author is a graduating senior in journalism at Iowa State University. He is interning with us during May and June and will be writing two columns per week here. In addition, we will be introducing him to media professionals and newsmakers around Iowa. —Chuck Offenburger

By JARED STRONG
May 16, 2005
COOPER, IOWA

If you asked me a week ago to compose a list of the top 100 things I’d like to do in my free time, attending an afternoon “Friendship Tea” at a rural Methodist Church would have appeared near the bottom or not at all.

Ask me again now and my reply may surprise you.

Being someone who usually prepares for a “tea time” by dusting off my golf clubs, I didn’t quite know what to expect as I drove into Cooper (pop. 30) last Thursday. As I approached the white-frame Cooper United Methodist Church, I realized the event was going to be more than a handful of elderly housewives getting together to exchange the latest town gossip. Trying to find a parking spot was more difficult than you’d think.

After circling the block – Cooper comprises only nine or 10 city blocks – I parked my car among the 30 other vehicles and walked in to find a packed church. A crowd of about 50 people representing nearly 10 towns sat patiently, waiting for The Rovers Band to play.


The United Methodist Church in Cooper, Iowa, is typical of the thousands of Methodist churches that once dotted the Iowa countryside, but this congregation is still very active.

The Rovers are a group of retirees who play two to three times each week in the area around Boone, 40 miles east of here. Cooper is the farthest they’ve traveled for a gig. Roberta “Bert” Meinecke, a longtime Cooperite, heard the band play at nearby Pilot Mound and invited them to this year’s “Friendship Tea.”

The Rovers have been playing together for 10 years. Their cheerful renditions of polka, folk and gospel favorites were accented by a banjo, bass guitar, violin, accordion and “Dobro” guitar, among other instruments. The 5-person band knows enough songs to play for hours, but Meinecke said she had to put a half-hour limit on them.

“Women get antsy after a while,” Meinecke said. “And there’s nothing worse than a bunch of antsy women!”

But before the music could begin, an award had to be given. Each year since the mid-1950s at this Friendship Tea gathering, a Cooper church member has been given a pin to commemorate the individual’s selfless work for the congregation. Tradition dictates the recipient is a woman, but Meinecke said they’ve begun honoring men, a 10-to-1 minority in the group, because all of the women have been recognized.

This man was definitely not expecting to be singled out.

After Willard Hostetler’s name was read, it took a few seconds for him to realize he was being honored. Speechless and red-faced, he walked up to get his pin and sat back down with a grin from ear to ear.

The Rovers took up their instruments and started their set. The music was great, but the comedic relief between songs took the cake.

“You know, it’s real fortunate we all ended on the same note,” band-leader Vern Soderstrum said after the third song.

It was even funnier because I couldn’t tell if he was joking.

During the first few songs, an onlooker wouldn’t have been able to tell if the crowd was enjoying the music. Although they sat still, I could feel the tapping of feet on the floor to the beat. And it wasn’t long before some crowd favorites were played, which drew humming, hand-clapping and even a “Praise the Lord” from an inspired soul in the back.

There between the stained-glass windows in the presence of their Creator, the people who gathered at the Cooper United Methodist Church felt right at home as they listened to “Hey, Good Lookin’,” “Old-Time Religion” and “When the Saints Go Marching In.”

The Rovers may not have always been in tune, and they may not have always ended on the same note or at the same time, but they definitely pleased their listeners, me included.

After the performance, everyone retired to the basement to enjoy sandwiches, cookies and good company. The leftovers were given to the band as payment.

I sat at a table with Pastor Cathy Van Gundy, one of the four lay ministers who travel among four small Methodist churches in the area to conduct services and deliver sermons. Since I was the oddball of the group, Van Gundy and the five other women at the table began checking me out. Once they were satisfied with what they knew about me, they talked about more interesting topics, like the “Iowa wave,” the one or two-finger acknowledgement from drivers as they pass by.

A woman who moved to Iowa from Pennsylvania told of how she likes the friendliness and sense of community embodied by the “Iowa wave.” She said it’s a stark difference between the Hawkeye State and her former home. Another woman chimed in with her experiences with the wave. “Just when I figure out who’s been waving at me, they buy a new car!” she exclaimed.

Like the wave, the Cooper “Friendship Tea” is a testament to the great emphasis we Iowans place on community and companionship. As I drove away, I couldn’t help but smile with a warm feeling all over. This was Iowa at its finest.

You can write Jared Strong at jared@Offenburger.com

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