Rudolph Grotto Gardens: Central Wisconsin’s quirky, quiet haven of the spirit
RUDOLPH, Wisconsin — It’s early March in central Wisconsin and I’m walking through the Rudolph Grotto Gardens under gray skies. A cold rain, just on the edge of snow, is falling, and the colors of the place are muted browns and light greens.
This kind of weather is probably the worst for a visit to a place such as the gardens. Their peak time is in the warmth of summer, when thousands of flowers smear the landscape with color, and sunlight glitters off the bits of glass and tiles that also decorate the manmade structures that rise out of the ground.
I’m here on a mission. My main job is being a newspaper feature writer, and I’m working on a piece that will be called “These Wisconsin sites offer spiritual destinations during Lent.” I’ve lived less than an hour’s drive from the grotto for most of my life, but this is the first time I’ve ever visited.
I’m not a religious person, which is one reason why I’ve never gone out of my way to go to the grotto. That was very narrow-minded of me, but at least I’m here now.
When making arrangements for this visit, I told Kris Willfahrt, the care-taker, manager, and everything else for the gardens, that I wasn’t Catholic. Or really anything.
“That’s OK!” she said. “The gardens are for everybody.”
Even though I’m not religious, I definitely felt a calming and hopeful spirit as I stood amidst the gardens with their quasi-structures, including “The Wonder Cave,” and sculptural platforms that held various statues representing Catholic iconagraphy, including sculptural portrayals of the events of Easter.
All these structures were built by Father Philip J. Wagner and volunteers who have worked on the gardens after he could no longer. The gardens are his brainchild, according to the histories outlined on the garden website and at its museum.
Father Wagner grew up in Festina, Iowa, and was drawn into his calling as an early age. Maybe it was because he was a kind of weak and sickly kid. According to his own account, he still felt poorly as a young man when he went to Europe for theological study.
During that sojourn, Wagner made a 10-day pilgrimage to the Catholic shrine at Lourdes, France. He prayed for better health and soaked in and drank the sacred waters there.
“My condition slowly improved as my strength returned, and my courage revived,” Wagner later wrote.
When Wagner returned to the Midwest, and was assigned to build a new church and school in Rudolph and to lead the parish there, he aimed to recreate the Lourdes experience for people in Wisconsin and beyond.
He had no construction experience, but he began to build grotto and gardens in what was once a flat farm field. He was aided by parish volunteers (and sometimes the children from the school, according to Kris). The most significant person to help was Edmund Rybicki, who grew up in the neighborhood and was 12 years old when he started helping Wagner. Rybicki essentially devoted his life to the gardens.
They fashioned the structures from rocks from the surrounding area and concrete. Color from glass and tile was added, giving it all a glittering effect.
It’s hard to believe that the place was created by hand, and without any plans, just from Wagner’s vision. I could feel him speaking to me through that work as I walked through. “Slow down,” he seemed to be saying. “Cherish life, cherish your days, cherish nature.”
Of course, Kris planted the seeds of those notions as we walked through the gardens together. She does not see the gardens as a form of evangelism.
“We’re not overly religious here,” she said. “We just invite people to come and enjoy the day.”
Kris finds her peace by preserving and enhancing Wagner’s dream.
“I like to work hard. And I like a challenge,” Kris said. And the gardens provides ample opportunity for both.
“Father Wagner was into nature,” Kris said. “And we offer a chance for people to enjoy nature without the hustle and bustle. … And who knows? Maybe you’ll get closer to God.”
