Regional Industry & News

HAWLEY, Minn. — On a wall inside Rodney Haug's workshop south of Hawley hangs a sign that reads, "Creative Genius."

It could just as easily say, "Wonder Under Construction."

The backyard shed is part machine shop, part art studio. Old Minnesota license plates line one wall. A kaleidoscope jigsaw puzzle, a gift from his mother-in-law, hangs nearby. At the center of it all is Haug, cutting, polishing, fitting and tinkering.

Only days earlier, the Hawley native returned from Rochester, New York, where his newest creation, a 2-foot-tall kaleidoscope called Omega, captured the People's Choice Award at the National Brewster Kaleidoscope Society Convention, named for Scottish scientist Sir David Brewster, who invented the kaleidoscope in 1816.

Ask Haug about the award and within moments he's telling stories instead.

Because for him, the real reward has never been the trophy.

It's the smiles.

It all began nearly 60 years ago with a cardboard kaleidoscope from a dime store.

A curious kid

Haug was about 8 years old, growing up on his family's dairy farm outside Hawley, when his mother brought home the inexpensive toy.

Most children would have been content to look through the little cardboard cylinder and turn the end to see the colors tumble together.

Not Rodney. He wanted to see exactly how it worked.

So when his mom wasn't looking, he grabbed a kitchen knife and sawed the end off.

"I thought, 'Really? It's that simple?'" he recalled.

The mirrors inside fascinated him. How could such a simple arrangement create dancing patterns of color, shape and light?

When he tried taping the toy back together, it didn't work.

His mom didn't seem to mind much. Growing up on the family dairy farm only fueled his curiosity.

But as he grew older, kaleidoscopes faded into the background. Between speech, drama and band at Hawley High School, then marriage to his wife Sharon and dairy farming, there was little time for hobbies.

Becoming ‘that guy’

But years later, he and Sharon visited the Minnesota Renaissance Festival.

One booth stopped them.

A craftsman was selling teleidoscopes—kaleidoscopes fitted with a lens that transformed whatever you looked at into colorful, symmetrical patterns.

Children and grownups crowded around the booth, each waiting for a chance to look through the kaleidoscope. Haug watched from the edge of the crowd.

“I remember thinking, ‘I want to be that guy,’” he said.

It wasn’t about making money, but creating all that joy.

He bought one of the scopes and soon started collecting others. Before long, the curious little boy who had taken apart that first dime-store kaleidoscope had come alive again. This time, he wanted to build one himself.

It was 1988, long before online tutorials or YouTube videos. Instead, Haug relied on the memory of the toy he had dismantled decades earlier.

The first kaleidoscope he made still sits in his workshop.

"It's a piece of crap," he said, laughing.

The mirrors were wrong. The image was cloudy. The craftsmanship was rough.

But it worked.

And it started a journey that has now lasted nearly four decades.

Creating beauty from chaos

Haug first sold his work at craft shows like the Downtown Fargo Street Fair and the Phelps Mill Festival before graduating to increasingly elaborate tabletop and pedestal kaleidoscopes now found in private collections across the country.

Closer to home, his work has become part of the local landscape.

His kaleidoscopes delighted children at the former Children's Museum at Yunker Farm and can be found at West Acres, the Plains Art Museum and Westgate Park in Hawley.

Every year, he also teaches Hawley fourth graders how to build kaleidoscopes, proving that even children raised on tablets, smartphones and video games are still captivated by a toy that first delighted their 19th century ancestors.

So what keeps people captivated by an invention that dates back more than 200 years?

"It's color and symmetry," Haug said.

Flowers, he noted, appeal to us for much the same reason.

"I suspect there's a part of our brain that just really enjoys colorful, symmetrical things,” he said.

A kaleidoscope offers more than a beautiful image.

"It creates beauty out of chaos," he said.

Colored glass tumbles into intricate changing patterns.

"The first thing is joy," he said. "Then it's soothing."

That, more than anything, is what keeps him building.

The Omega project

Three years ago, Haug decided it was finally time to build the kaleidoscope he had always imagined.

He called it Omega. No customer commissioned it. No buyer was waiting in the wings.

This one was for him—a chance to experiment, take risks and build without compromise.

A $1,000 grant from The Awesome Foundation helped launch the project. Hawley machinist Roger Meyer fabricated custom components, while Sharon patiently watched it consume hundreds of hours of her husband's time.

As the scope neared completion, Haug realized he had created something special.

“I thought, man, I'm really liking this. It trips my trigger. I wanted to show it off," he admitted. "You know, I’m Scandinavian. We're not supposed to show off. But once in a while we can't help ourselves."

There was just one problem. The finished kaleidoscope weighed nearly 93 pounds and getting it to Rochester to show it off wouldn’t be easy.

His longtime anonymous benefactor on the East Coast offered financial help, but the biggest logistical challenge remained: getting the heavy, two-foot tall kaleidoscope to Rochester intact.

The solution came from an unexpected source.

Former Fargo and West Fargo schools superintendent David Flowers — better known for leading school districts than building kaleidoscopes — is an accomplished kaleidoscope artist himself. While Haug flew to New York, Flowers volunteered to carefully transport Omega, strapping the massive creation into his vehicle and delivering it safely to the convention where Haug later draped a cloth over it before the unveiling.

"My goal was to hear the gasp," he said. "I was hoping to hear somebody's jaw hit the floor."

It worked.

"People went nuts," he said.

He said winning the People's Choice award was "validation with a capital V."

But there was more to discover than polished stainless steel and colorful patterns.

Hidden inside Omega are tiny surprises that most viewers will never notice at first glance.

Floating in the object chamber is the logo of The Awesome Foundation, a permanent thank-you to the organization whose grant helped launch the project.

It's not the first time Haug has tucked little Easter eggs into his work. Another kaleidoscope contains a replica of his dog's nose print.

What's next?

This fall, Omega will travel to a renowned kaleidoscope gallery in Jerome, Arizona, where it will be displayed—and perhaps sold.

Next up for Rodney? A smaller version. Maybe Baby Omega or Omega II.

He's already thinking about it.

After all these years, the little boy who couldn't resist taking apart a dime-store kaleidoscope is still chasing the same dream.

Rodney Haug still wants to be "that guy" standing behind the table, creating beauty out of chaos and joy for everyone who happens to take a peek inside.