Adolf Brodbeck was a man of … ideas. Extraordinary ideas, it seems to me. Far-out-there ideas.

Born in Germany in October 1853, he studied philosophy and law at the University of Tübingen, “devot[ing] himsef especially to philosophic studies, including philosophy of law and history of theories of government,” and earning both a Ph.D. and an L.L.D. He later claimed to have been “Professor of Aesthetics in a Royal School of Fine Arts” in Germany, but just where or whether that was, I cannot determine.

He traveled to the U.S. in 1893, eventually making his way to Chicago to attend the Parliament of Religions held in connection with the World’s Fair – many readers will recall that this Parliament denied B.H. Roberts’ request to speak about Mormonism, and when, after appeal, they agreed to let him speak, Elder Roberts returned home rather than addressing an audience in a smaller breakout session rather than to the full Parliament in the main hall.

On his way to Chicago, Dr. Brodbeck was interviewed by a reporter for the New York Times. “He is a handsome man,” the reported noted, “with a Shakespearean height and width of forehead, and his temperament is notably sanguine. German and French he speaks with equal fluency and his proficiency in English is almost as great, except that he pauses now and again to select a word which will convey some delicate shade of meaning.”

His purpose for going to Chicago, he said, was to share what he called his “religion of Idealism,” a sort of Universalism of World Religions, without dogma of any kind, but a philosophy that “encourages men to cultivate lofty aims and aspirations, for pure thoughts incline men to good morals and good actions. Our cult has its practical side, too. We believe in discussing and promoting social reforms and in aiding the poor or distressed.” He offered to send the reporter a copy of his new book which set forth his aims.

That “book” was a 15-page multi-language booklet. Reviewed by a Jewish newspaper, Brodbeck “admonishes all the world to make propaganda for his new faith, called Idealism. … [It] amounts to a new shape of Stoicism to replace all positive religions. … The Doctor asks of man a self-sacrifice, which is next to impossible to human nature. Man must think, must produce ideals in his soul, must console himself with hopes, certitude or no certitude, belief or no belief; he cannot strip himself of human nature. … But that may be all right from the standpoint of the good Dr. A. Brodbeck, and we forgive all his sins except that he calls this frigid Stoicism ‘Idealism,’ in which there is not a breath of ideality.”

Two years later, we find Dr. Brodbeck again in Chicago, organizing “a great mixed choir, comprising the whole city-territory.” Whether he had been in Chicago continuously, or had traveled back to Germany where his wife Sophie and their five young children lived, I do not know. In any case, Sophie and the children arrived in the U.S. in 1899, and the united Brodbeck family settled in Nashville, Tennessee, where Adolf Brodbeck found work teaching Greek, and Sophie Brodbeck gave singing and piano lessons.

I don’t know when he made his first trip to Utah, but in 1901, Brodbeck invited Salt Lake’s mayor to attend his lecture at the Peabody Normal College in Nashville “on a novel kind of electric railway called the ‘air-car.’” Mayor Thompson declined the invitation, saying that he could “not see his way clear to accept on that date even if the air ship were sent from Nashville to carry him there.”

What Mayor Thompson took humorously was completely serious to Dr. Brodbeck. “Dr. Adol[f] Brodbeck,” announced a reporter in an article printed around the country, “believes that he ha really solved the problem of rapid locomotion. he has been at work on his invention for several years, and now that it is perfected he thinks it will likely revolutionize the present system of transit.”

His “air car” would require a network of raised rails (two pairs of rails, actually), from which the car would draw its initial power through electricity. But as the car attained speed, an airscrew (propeller) would take over, a disc surrounding the car would catch the airflow and lift the car. It would still be attached to the rails by its wheels, which would guide the car toward its destination, but the motive power would come from the air itself.

“The car will be cigar-shaped, when viewed as a whole,” Brodbeck explained. “It will be made of hardwood, aluminum and glass. The carriages will be surrounded by a horizontal plane or shield, corresponding to some extent to the wings of a bird. This aeroplane is designed to maintain the equilibrium of the machine. …

“There is practically no limit to speed. We can easily travel ten times faster than the fastest trains of to-day, namely, 600 miles an hour – that is, ten miles a minute, and even more than that.

“It starts like a trolley car, but the down rollers, clamped against the rails and the lifting screws, assist in lifting until sufficient speed is attained. With full speed the lower wheels press lightly from below and only the propelling screw is active.

“The speed is regulated partly by increasing the electric current applied to the motors or by shutting it off, partly by increasing or decreasing the effect of gravity by means of upward screwing air screws, and partly by a kind of Venetian blind which extends along the side of the car.”

Brodbeck described his proposed machine in great detail and with greater enthusiasm … and truth be told, he might have persuaded me to believe in his air car until this philosopher-lawyer-teacher of Greek positioned himself within the pantheon of the world’s greatest minds:

“Newton’s theory of increased resistance of the air with increased speed is fundamentally wrong, and so are all the mathematical formulas based on Newton’s wrong. Newton’s error was the greatest drawback for the development of aerial flight and connected matters.”

All righty, then.

Brodbeck’s failure to win backers to test his system did not diminish his interest in aeronautics. By 1909 he had moved his family to Utah – I had no idea why he chose Utah – and had formed an Aero Club of Utah. “While the [club’s] research will be chiefly along the lines of heavier than air machines, the matter of dirigibles will not be overlooked, and by next summer the club hopes to have a big machine in the air.” (I haven’t found any trace of their hoped-for “big machine,” but perhaps a closer scouring of newspapers will turn up something.)

Adolf Brodbeck was not LDS, and so far as I have found, neither was his wife nor any of his children. As mentioned, I have no idea why he came to Utah. But come he did, and almost as soon as he arrived, he had another of his extraordinary ideas.

The Tabernacle.

It was a fine building, yes, with a magnificent organ. But it was … plain. He had an idea for its improvement.

The plan is this: The vaulted ceiling of the Tabernacle in this City should be decorated with beautiful paintings, according to a great plan, and in keeping with this memorable structure. In detail, my plan is this: the long southern part of the ceiling should contain the Past of Zion, in the sense of scenes from the Holy Land, especially those which correspond to present Zion and Utah.

The northern part of the ceiling should contain the Present of Zion, in the wider sense, namely the Zion of to-day in Salt Lake City and Utah; such as the coming of the pioneers to Salt Lake, the erection of the Temple, cultivation of the soil, Utah Lake, Jordan river, Great Salt Lake, the “Dead Sea of America.”

Finally, the Eastern part of the ceiling, opposite the Organ, should contain: The Future of Zion, with a lofty pyramid-like temple, as the graded temples of Mexico or Egypt, in the centre, like a huge altar, and all nations coming from all parts to adore the One True God.

Further: around and above the Big Organ, There should be Choruses of Singing and Playing Angels, as is described in Revelation of the “Upper Jerusalem.”

A few further details are these:

The whole space is to be partitioned into smaller fields by plastic ornamentation, and beautiful electric light effects. The whole somewhat on the plan of Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel ceiling Decoration. Further, there should be a parallelism between the Past and the Present by placing opposite each such things as: Jordan of Palestine & Jordan of Utah; Dead Sea of Palestine & Great Salt Lake of Utah, Lake of Galilee and Utah Lake, Temple of Solomon and Temple in Salt Lake City, and so forth.

The greatest artists should be called upon, to furnish sketches along these lines.

Helpfully, he had even contacted Parisian-trained artist John Fairbanks and his sculptor son Avard, and reported that they were willing to cooperate. “I told them of this my plan. It will make the tabernacle one of the great sights of the world.”

Brodbeck even provided this helpful sketch, in case his plan was not fully understood:

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The Brodbeck family remained in Utah. Dr. Brodbeck became involved in mining interests; his son Adolf became a popular competitive bicycle racer. Sophie Brodbeck’s advertisements appear in the Salt Lake newspapers, offering a month’s tuition free to students who signed up for her voice or piano courses. She died in 1916 and is buried in Mt. Olivet cemetery. Adolf Brodbeck moved on to California, but after his 1930 death in Los Angeles, his children brought his body back to lie next to Sophie’s.

While I’m scouring those newspapers for news of the Aero Club’s big machine, I’ll keep a lookout for any word on whether or not the Tabernacle ceiling was decorated according to the good doctor’s magnificent plan.