(lighthearted guitar music) ♪ Backroads and byways ♪ ♪ Campfires will lie awake ♪ ♪ Sweet grass and summer sage ♪ ♪ Come on baby, come and take my hand ♪ ♪ Take my hand ♪ ♪ Take my hand ♪ ♪ We're Dakota bound ♪ (lighthearted guitar music) - Join us on the road as we tour around the great state of South Dakota sharing stories and songs.

(lighthearted guitar music) For more than 60 years, this unassuming bar drew huge crowds from all over Western, North and South Dakota.

Located in Lemmon, South Dakota, but literally blocks away from the border with North Dakota, it was the go-to watering hole for several generations of locals and travelers passing through.

According to current owner, John Lopez, "The place was famous," he says, "it was the hotspot in town.

"When everybody came home, this is where they came "to play pool.

"A lot of young people, "this is where they had their first beer."

What had become a Dakota tradition came to an end about a decade ago, when the bar permanently closed.

The building, already in disrepair, sat empty and abandoned until, Lopez, a world renowned sculptor and a native of lemmon bought the property and turned it into an art gallery and community gathering space.

Lopez said he got the idea to turn the iconic bar into a gallery after installing one of his works called, "Boss Cowman" in a small park right next to the building.

As part of the project, friends of Lopez, visiting artists from Nigeria, painted a mural on the side of the abandoned building in 2016.

In a bid to save the park and the beautiful mural from the aging wall of the empty building, Lopez purchased it and began a renovation project.

Undertaking this renovation was no small task.

The roof was in bad shape, so the whole structure had sustained massive water damage.

"It was a mildewy, musky, moldy disaster," he said, most people would have torn it down, but not Lopez.

Instead, he gutted the building and he spent a year transforming the space.

The gallery is beautiful.

It boasts some of Lopez's most iconic work, including, "Custer's Last Stand", a life-size portrayal of the two Dueling Bison created in Lopez's signature hybrid metal art sculpture style.

This style of sculpture consists of a fusion of scrap iron and cast bronze.

The term has come to identify Lopez's unique works, which are on display throughout South Dakota, the US and abroad.

The space also hosts visiting artists as well as other local artists.

At first, he planned to rename the building and take down what had become the iconic Kokomo Inn sign hanging above the door.

But he quickly decided against that when a local resident told him, "I wouldn't do like that "unless you wanna get run out of town."

Many who know this place however, will be surprised to learn it is not named after the famous Beach Boys song.

The bar proceeded the song by decades.

The old bar was in fact named after an Indiana city.

The bar's original owner, Joe Ekemo, who opened it in 1946 got the idea after passing through on a road trip and chuckling over the similarities to his own last name.

Once Lopez had learned the true origins of the name, he also created a sculpture of Chief Kokomo, for the namesake of the town in Indiana.

"The Kokomo building is part of lemmon's history," Lopez says, "anywhere you go in South and North Dakota, "people have heard of this place.

"I wanted to preserve that history.

"Plus, this gives the gallery a kind of retro feel."

Hi, I'm Eliza Blue and I am in lemmon South Dakota at the Kokomo gallery and I wish you were here.

This place is amazing and if you haven't had a chance to check it out, I really encourage you to do so.

Now, my band is out in the sculpture garden setting up, so, let's go play a few tunes.

(footsteps echo) Well, we are really excited to be here, shooting from the sculpture garden outside the Kokomo.

Not only is it a beautiful space, but it's a really inspiring space and we especially...

When we were thinking about putting this show together we thought a lot about the tree of life and just what that means thematically and connecting generations and families, ties, community, all of those are things that are really important to us as Dakotans, especially those of us that live rurally.

So, the first song we'd like to share with you is called, "Song Without Words" and this is a song I wrote right after my son was born, who was a very longed for baby and a baby that I wondered and worried I might never get to welcome into my life.

So, it's a really special song to me.

(lighthearted music) ♪ I'm afraid ♪ (lighthearted music) ♪ And know that I'm whole ♪ ♪ I'm not pieces, I'm whole ♪ ♪ But I'm afraid ♪ ♪ I'm not grass, I'm not soil, I'm not birds ♪ ♪ And the trees, I'm all of these ♪ ♪ I'm a song without words that goes, ooh ♪ (vocalists harmonize) (lighthearted music) ♪ With my scarf and my (indistinct) ♪ ♪ (indistinct) On my back ♪ ♪ I'll go wondering out ♪ ♪ To the grass and the soil and the birds and the trees ♪ ♪ To all of these ♪ ♪ To the song without words that goes, ooh ♪ (vocalists harmonize) (lighthearted music) ♪ I lay in my bed and the moonlight streams in ♪ ♪ And it shines on our skin ♪ ♪ On my love and our son, we are breathing as one ♪ ♪ And the moonlight streams in ♪ ♪ We're a song without words that goes, ooh ♪ (vocalists harmonize) (lighthearted music) (vocalists harmonize) (lighthearted music) The next song we're gonna share with you is called, "The Prairie Is My Garden" and it was inspired by the Harvey Dunn painting of the same name.

And whenever I look at that painting I just think, you know, we appreciate the seasons here living West river as we do, we get to see the best and the worst of each of those seasons, but it's nothing compared to what people would have been experiencing 50, 60, 70 years ago.

So, when I think about those flowers coming into bloom, the wildflowers coming into bloom and just how amazing that would have been after a long winter.

It just makes me very grateful both for the beauty we still enjoy and for central heat, so.

Here we go, "The Prairie Is My Garden".

(lighthearted music) ♪ Gather me like roses ♪ ♪ Blooming on the prairie ♪ ♪ Anywhere the wind blows I go ♪ ♪ I go ♪ ♪ (indistinct) Like the wagon ♪ ♪ Rolling through the tall grass ♪ ♪ Anywhere the wind blows I go ♪ ♪ I go ♪ ♪ Gather me now there won't be a better chance ♪ ♪ Winter winds blow across the prairie's expanse ♪ ♪ But you will have, oh the thing that will last ♪ ♪ Is the memories of sweet summers past ♪ (lighthearted music) ♪ Gather me now, there won't be a better chance ♪ ♪ Winter winds blow across the prairie's expanse ♪ ♪ What you will have, oh the thing that will last ♪ ♪ Is the memory of sweet summers past ♪ ♪ So gather me like roses ♪ ♪ Blooming on the prairie ♪ ♪ Anywhere the wind blows I go ♪ ♪ I go ♪ ♪ (indistinct) Like the wagon ♪ ♪ Rolling through the tall grass ♪ ♪ Anywhere the wind blows I go ♪ ♪ I go ♪ ♪ Gather me now there won't be a better chance ♪ ♪ Winter winds blow across the prairie's expanse ♪ ♪ But you will have, oh the thing that will last ♪ ♪ Is the memories of sweet summers past ♪ (lighthearted music) Before I move to the ranch, here in South Dakota, I was a touring musician full time and after I came here, obviously touring got quite a bit harder, because there aren't a lot of cities to tour to and also motherhood, that slowed down the touring schedule a little bit, so as a creative outlet I started writing and the result is this book, "Accidental Rancher", so I'm gonna share a little bit of it with you.

This chapter is called, "Casting On".

"15 years ago I lived in a shoebox apartment, "in New York City's lower East side.

"It was a neighborhood transitioning from bohemian to chic.

"Nearly everyday I walked to work, "I would pass a new store or restaurant "that seemed to have appeared over night.

"There were upscale sushi restaurants, "tiny Juul box, cupcake bakeries, "yoga studios and couture clothing stores "where the resident designer sat stitching demurely "beside the cash registers.

"One day, a few blocks from my apartment, "I came upon a new store about to open for business.

"It was a yarn shop.

"knitting being in fashion amongst hipsters "and it was filled from floor to ceiling "with shelves of yarn, each shouting with color and texture, "warm and glowing like a sunset from every season at once.

"Cornflower blue, Arctic white, "green as brilliant as an Irish coast.

"The shop was a feast of beauty.

"I wanted to press my face against the glass like a child "but I was late for work, so I hustled on.

"It was early fall.

"The leaves of the slim trees lining the Avenue "just barely tipped with red and yellow, "the breeze carrying a faint nip "and (indistinct) beneath the city's luminous heat.

"I knew how to knit but not well.

"Much like my attempts at adulthood, "I started several scarfs, "but abandoned them before finishing.

"I'd lose interest or move house "and the scarf would disappear.

"Walking home again past the yarn shop "that evening I began to feel the itch.

"I wanted to make a scarf, a beautiful scarf "as a Christmas present for my mother.

"So, the next day I went into the shop "and after much perusing, I settled on a hand spun yarn, "dyed in shades of magenta and ochre.

"It was a dense wool and seemed strong and warm, "exactly what my mother would need "for a cold Minnesota morning.

"It was also wildly expensive and my hands shook a little "as I handed over the bills from my slim wallet.

"I brought the yarn back to my apartment "along with a pair of smooth wooden needles and got to work.

"I wanted this scarf to be wide and long.

"My father had died the winter before "and I kept imagining my mom, "warm and cozy, wrapped in that big scarf.

"I wanted it to be wide enough "and long enough to keep the cold at bay.

"I wanted it to be wide enough and long enough "to comfort her when it seemed nothing else could.

"I knit every day after work and during my lunch break "and soon I'd knitted through that first skein of yarn "but the scarf didn't even reach around my neck.

"I went back to the shop for another skein "and another and another.

"I bought the last in that colorway in the shop "before I flew back to Minnesota for Christmas.

"And I came to the final few inches of the scarf.

"As we taxied on the runway in Minneapolis.

"The scarf was done.

"All in all, it was the most expensive gift "I'd ever bought anyone but I was sure it would be perfect.

"It wasn't.

"In the candlelight of our Christmas Eve gift exchange "the scarf glowed like rubies and amber.

"But when my mother put it around her neck "it looked more like a sad high road "between a scarf and a coat.

"Too big to be the former "and not big enough to be the latter.

"As I had planned, it was wide.

"It span that space from her neck to her mid back "but it looked strange and lumpy "from my beginner's erratic knitting, "dwarfing my mother beneath its rough weight.

"'I love it', my mother said, "but I knew she'd never wear it.

"I wasn't around to see if I was right.

"But when I moved back to Minneapolis a few years later "my beloved East village neighborhood "fully overtaken by people who could afford to stay.

"Whereas I could not.

"I found the scarf neatly tucked "behind the coats on a dark shelf in the front closet.

"I was a much better knitter by then.

"And I unraveled the scarf inch by inch "until the yarn lay in a giant purple and orange pile "at my feet.

"I re-knit it and when I was done "I returned it to my mother, "who agreed the garment was much improved.

"When I finished re-knitting, however, "I was left with a large ball of excess yarn.

"That yarn has moved with me everywhere since, "from Minneapolis to Maine and back again "and then across the wide prairie "before settling finally in Western South Dakota, "waiting all that time for the perfect project "to present itself.

"Today, it feels suddenly and definitively like fall.

"The tips of the leaves and the windbreak "are just starting to turn "and there is a nip in the air beneath the prairie's heat.

"Yesterday, I cast on the first stitches "with that last ball of yarn.

"I am making a tiny woolen sweater "because we are expecting "the best possible Christmas gift this year.

"It will be the kind of sweater a baby, "born in the first days of winter will need to travel home "from the hospital.

"Home where a grandma, visiting all the way from Minnesota, "will be waiting to greet a new grandchild, the same bright colors, keeping them both warm."

The tree of life is John Lopez's newest work on display at the Kokomo and it forms the centerpiece of the sculpture garden he has steadily built up since he completed renovations on the interior of the building.

John says, "The trunk represents the toil and the hardships "that we go through in our lives."

He also says, "Sometimes with trees, "when you look at the trunk, "they look like they've really been put through the ringer.

"Then in the spring, you've got these beautiful blossoms "and fruit.

"The trunk is the foundation "and then the blossoms are the beautiful side."

A steel ribbon intertwined into the trunk references a passage in Genesis, the first book of the Hebrew Bible, which describes the tree of life planted in the garden of Eden.

The blossoms, in addition to being beautiful, also represent community.

A human figure dangling by his arms from a branch was given to Lopez by a metal artist from Oman.

Lopez, fabricated the pink blossoms.

Others were donated by local friends.

A horse trainer fashioned a flower from bits of bridal, a mechanic fabricated one from old tools.

Others were sent from farther a field after Lopez put out a call online.

"I'd say there's over a hundred blossoms "and they're from all over the United States, "Costa Rica, Australia, and Nigeria", says Lopez.

"And they're still coming in.

"I'm just gonna keep adding blossoms to it over the years "and maybe it'll get filled out enough.

"Filled out or not, the tree with its deep roots, "powerful trunk and elegant flowers "is a beautiful representation of the cycle of life."

(lighthearted music) ♪ She brought it from back East ♪ ♪ And from a sea that's size increased ♪ ♪ Most that stick, gray and black ♪ ♪ Roots wrapped up in a gunny sack ♪ (lighthearted music) ♪ On the prairie she found wonder ♪ ♪ In the rolling hills and mighty thunder ♪ ♪ So she dug a hole, let in the roots ♪ ♪ Built a home with a new (indistinct) ♪ ♪ Years have past and we're on the prairie ♪ ♪ Some were sad but most were merry ♪ ♪ Funerals, weddings, children grew ♪ ♪ And with them that small tree grew too ♪ ♪ The tree grew too ♪ (lighthearted music) ♪ Weeding, working, grass grows high ♪ ♪ Pruning, feeding beneath the wide blue sky ♪ ♪ Then one day as she looked out ♪ ♪ Saw the tree she dreamed about ♪ ♪ Leaves and blossoms, branches ♪ ♪ How rooted deep the tree of life ♪ ♪ The tree of life ♪ (lighthearted music) (accordion music) - This is my accordion.

His name is Rick.

I started playing the accordion a few years ago and I've learned some lessons.

For instance, if people are backing away from you it's because you're too loud.

- Well, thank you so much for joining us here.

We'd like to finish off with a song, actually named, "The Tree Of Life", written by some friends of mine in a band called, "Roman Deluna".

So, we thought it was a nice way to finish off our episode.

Thanks again.

(violin music) ♪ Take us to the tree of life ♪ ♪ It is there we'll find our sight ♪ ♪ No more darkness, no more lies ♪ ♪ When we gather in the sky ♪ ♪ The doves have fallen fast asleep ♪ ♪ I hear 'em sleeping too it seems ♪ ♪ Oh, the gray has swallowed you ♪ ♪ We have lost our point of view ♪ ♪ Take us to the tree of life ♪ ♪ It is there we'll find our sight ♪ ♪ No more darkness, no more lies ♪ ♪ When we gather in the sky ♪ ♪ Take us to the tree of life ♪ ♪ It is there we'll find our sight ♪ ♪ No more darkness, no more lies ♪ ♪ When we gather in the sky ♪ ♪ Backroads and byways ♪ ♪ Campfires will lie awake ♪ ♪ Sweet grass and summer sage ♪ ♪ Come on baby, come and take my hand ♪ ♪ Take my hand ♪ ♪ Take my hand ♪ ♪ We're Dakota bound ♪ (lighthearted music)