Creating an LGBTQ+-Inclusive Community in Rural Iowa

Growing up, Jerry Limkemann didn’t have the words to say he was gay. Now in his 60s, he’s created a community for people of all orientations to “Be who they are” in an unlikely Iowa town. Jerry Limkemann doesn’t reflect on his 62 years of life with any regret. For over 30 years, he’s been…

Jerry Limkemann doesn’t reflect on his 62 years of life with any regret. For over 30 years, he’s been happily married, living on five cornfield-surrounded acres near the rural town of Coggon, Iowa.

But Limkemann doesn’t live on a farm, or a ranch, or a homestead. He lives at and runs an LGBTQ+ friendly campground that attracts guests from across the country.

Limkemann Village Campground — shortened to LV Campground — is one of fewer than 20 campgrounds in the Midwest tailored toward the LGBTQ+ community and the only such campground in Iowa. Limkemann said guests are often surprised to find such a place in the state, let alone in a rural location. Former LV Campground guest James* described the grounds as “an oasis in the middle of a cornfield in the middle of a very red island.”

Limkemann doesn’t pay much attention to the campground’s juxtaposition to the surrounding area. In fact, he said that many of the campground’s dynamics are similar to those of the rural Midwest — friendly and neighborly, even in the face of political disagreements. 

When asked whether the lack of LGBTQ+ friendly spaces is apparent in rural Iowa, he said he hadn’t “really thought of it that way.” Stereotypes have never bothered Limkemann, both in regards to his rural background and queer identity. 

“I used to work on dairy farms. I worked on hog farms. I baled straw. I was a dry cleaner for years. I was a cosmetologist for a while. I’ve done almost everything,” Limkemann said. “So the stereotype thing is really funny to me because

if everybody would just not have the stereotype, we’d all get along fine.”

Limkemann gets along fine with his rural neighbors. As far as he’s aware, they’re not concerned about the LGBTQ+ campground next door.

“I called [my neighbor] out of curiosity one day and I said, ‘Hey, does what goes on up here bother you at all?’ And he says, ‘No, not at all.’ He said, ‘Jerry, you do what you do with your property, and I do what I do with mine,’” Limkemann said.

All are welcome on Limkemann’s property — gay, bisexual, straight, transgender, cisgender, swingers — as long as they come with an open mind, Limkemann said. 

“[Straight people] have heard about the place and heard about the people, so they know what they’re getting into, and when they get here, they always say, ‘I can’t believe this place is here. I’m 20 minutes away. Why didn’t I come sooner?’” Limkemann said.

James, a 35-year-old straight man who spends about half the year traveling with his dog and camper, intended to stay at LV Campground for a weekend. After forming relationships with other guests and feeling “very comfortable,” he decided to stay the summer.

He attributes a lot of his comfort to Limkemann, whom he described as a “goofy” campground grandpa.

“[Limkemann’s] superpower is just how comfortable he can make people feel,” James said. “That’s how he treats you, but also how well he protects the campground. He doesn’t have patience for anyone that doesn’t contribute to that feeling of comfortability.”

Limkemann’s coming out journey was long and winding — though not atypical for his time. Growing up in Coggon, a town of 701, Limkemann felt that being gay wasn’t something anyone talked about. 

“I knew I liked guys, but I didn’t really know the word to go with it,” Limkemann said. “ I went out with the girls because that was what you were supposed to do. I tried to live the straight thing.” 

Limkemann didn’t know anyone openly LGBTQ+ then, and he wouldn’t for a long time. By his 30s, he was living in Cedar Rapids with his second wife and their son.

“I knew I was living a lie by being married and acting all straight,” Limkemann said. “I just was very, very unhappy.” 

He separated from his wife and moved in with a man he met at the mall, who later became abusive. When his abusive partner moved out, Limkemann’s parents admitted him to a psychiatric hospital. 

Near the end of his nearly one-month stay, he received a “night pass” to temporarily leave the hospital, which he decided to use to go out to a drag bar. There, he met a drag queen, the first openly gay person he’d ever met.

Within the month, he’d come out to his parents and then-wife. Despite not coming out until later in life, Limkemann believes each step of his journey shaped the person he is today. 

“Had I not went to the Nut Hut, I probably would’ve done what a lot of these other young ones have done: just turned the light off,” Limkemann said. “I just wasn’t happy at all, and once I finally came out and decided to get happy, things have been a lot better.”

Limkeman went on to meet his future husband at the same gay bar where he encountered the drag queen. They later moved to rural Iowa when Limkemann’s mom offered him the property he grew up on — with a catch. She wanted him to build a campground, a dream she and her husband shared before he passed away from melanoma. So he did. 

The campground became a safe place for Limkemann’s family, too. When his son was younger, he and his husband hosted him at the campground every weekend. Linkemann’s mother also lived to see the campground open and stopped by periodically over the next two decades before passing away earlier this year. 

“She loved it,” Linkemann said. “We’d have a drag show and that kind of stuff and she would come and hang out, talk to everybody. She drove her little blue golf cart around.” 

Initially, LV Campground was open to all ages, but Limkemann decided to make the campground clothing optional and 18+ in response to the lack of “safe spaces” in the area. 

“People don’t really have a place to go where they can just be who they are and be left alone and non-judgmental,” Limkemann said. “If I see somebody carrying on or poking fun at somebody, they have to leave. I just kick people off.”

Operating a campground meant to be a safe space for all identities involves a dichotomy: Linkemann welcomes all but doesn’t tolerate unwelcoming behavior. James recalled a specific incident this summer in which Linkemann kicked out a guest.

“There was a guy that was being inappropriate and making people feel uncomfortable, and he had to go, so he made that happen,” James said. “It was decisive once it was known that this person was making people feel uncomfortable.”

Limkemann also mentors individuals who come through the campground — especially young people searching for identity like he once was.

“There’s just so many creepy people out there, and [young people] just need somewhere to go where they can get decent advice,” Limkemann said.

For some guests, finding a safe space like LV Campground is life-changing. 

“I had one guy tell me that he stumbled upon this place, and if it hadn’t been for that, he probably would be gone because he was just that down and desperate,” Limkemann said.

LV Campground is a place for everybody, whether they’re gay, straight — or, as Limkemann likes to put it, “livin’ the straight life.”

“[Guests] come here and they get to be who they are,” Limkemann said. “They’re kind of sheepish at first, and by the time they’re here and they get to meet everybody, it becomes a big family. Then they just keep coming back because they know that they’re safe here.”

*James asked to only be identified by his first name. 

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