The Streets of Saint Paul

Samuel Huntington Morgan (1911 - 2000)

2016-06-11T14:07:00.000-05:00

(Photo of Samuel Huntington Morgan from his book Environmental Recollections)

Parks and trails advocate Samuel Huntington Morgan was born in Duluth, MN on February 21, 1911. He moved to Saint Paul with his parents at age 7. Morgan was a long-time attorney and a champion of Minnesota’s outdoors. His advocacy efforts led to the creation, preservation, or expansion of many of Minnesota’s most popular open spaces.

Morgan’s first foray into environmentalism began a short time after the close of World War II. In the 1950s communities throughout the county began to expand beyond the boundaries of the urban city centers into newly formed suburbs. Suburban sprawl led to a widespread interest in preserving open spaces. Morgan, recalling his childhood in Duluth as well as summers swimming in the Saint Croix River, was swept up in a nationwide call to action. The joy that he felt in those natural landscapes launched his conservation efforts.

Fort Snelling State Park was his first opportunity to get involved. In January of 1961, Morgan and his wife Natalie were invited by their friend Thomas Savage to a meeting of the Fort Snelling State Park Association. The meeting outlined the “opportunity, and citizen effort required for a park at Fort Snelling.” A post-meeting offer to help “Tom … if he needs it” resulted in weekly meetings at the Saint Paul Athletic Club that culminated with the passage of an act to establish Fort Snelling State Historical Park on April 20, 1961.

In 1967 Morgan was named president of the newly formed Minnesota Parks Foundation. Its role was to serve as a “vehicle for the receipt of tax-deductible gifts” under the sponsorship of the Minnesota Council of State Parks. At a July 8, 1967 meeting it was determined that the best way fro the foundation to meet its organizational goals was to acquire properties through the use of a permanent revolving fund. A property would be purchased with publicly raised monies, and then sold to the state to replenish the fund. It was then decided that the first acquisition project would be the recently up for sale Dosé property along with Trout Lake, the initial 410-acre land purchase that would later make up a section of the Afton State Park.

The Afton Land Company was formed to perform the acquisition. It was assigned to the Dosé purchase agreements, and the task of finding the necessary funds for purchase began. There were significant challenges to overcome throughout the process. Due to legislative constraints, legislation enacting the park couldn't be had until 1969. The company was concerned that their inability to assure donors that their substantial gifts would result in a state park would affect their fundraising efforts. In the end, through a combination of charitable gifts and secured loans, the purchase agreement was completed.

Once that initial purchase was finished, the group began meeting with nearby property owners to discuss buying their land as well. Although an idea of the initial property boundaries had been drawn out, no one could be sure of actual park boundaries until the 1969 State Legislature met to enact the park and designate the land. When the proposed park came before the legislature, it contained 827 acres of land. There was strong opposition, but park supporters eventually prevailed. After assurances that the Afton Land Company wasn't profiting from the purchase, Governor Le Vander signed the legislation.

The 1980s saw the efforts of the Foundation include the acquisition of abandoned railways for trails. This new opportunity coincided with the popularity boom of "linear sports" and existing parks were unable to accommodate the new modes of recreation and travel. The Soo Line Trail (later becoming a portion of the Gateway Trail) was the first purchase, followed by the Cannon Valley Trail. The same process used in previous park land acquisitions was used to secure these properties.

In 1987 the Minnesota Parks Foundation and the Minnesota Council of State Parks merged to become the Minnesota Parks and Trails Council. In 2000 that organization was renamed the Parks and Trails Council of Minnesota. Since 1967 the council has acquired more than 10,000 acres of land valued at over $29 million dollars. The "revolving fund," known today as the Samuel H. Morgan Land Fund, currently sits at more than 4.5 million dollars.

Morgan was "one of the true champions of Minnesota's Great Outdoors," and instrumental to the success of each of the many efforts in which he was involved. That being said, he often deflected direct praise. He talked of merely "swimming with the tide" and noted that "(n)early all the parks (he) helped create (was) first conceived by others." In his eyes projects were grand efforts whose success depended on the work of many talented, passionate people.

Those that saw Morgan in action, as well as those that later carried on his work considered him a determined crusader who created a "regional system of parks, park reserves, and trails that (are) renowned across the nation." Overcoming environmental issues in Minnesota was his passion, and Morgan understood the importance of having preserved open spaces for future generations to enjoy. To those that knew him, the name Sam Morgan is synonymous with Minnesota’s parks. He institutionalized the state's park system and created the playbook that others have since followed.

Morgan was a trailblazer that believed cities and open spaces went hand in hand. He was memorialized for his work both during his life and after his death at the age of 89 on October 17, 2000. Some of the many accolades Morgan received include the 1985 opening of the Samuel H. Morgan Trail/Interpretive Center in William O'Brien Park, having August 11, 1992 named "Samuel H. Morgan Day," and his May 21, 2000 receipt of the Metropolitan Regional Leadership Award by the Met Council for "extraordinary vision and leadership."

Although he admittedly lacked an expertise in "forestry and ecology," Morgan was involved with many important environmentally conscious organizations during his lifetime. He played a part in the establishment of Fort Snelling Park and Lilydale Park, the creation of Afton State Park, the expansion of William O'Brien State Park, the birth of the Gateway Trail, and more. On September 20, 2002, two years after his death, a bicycle and pedestrian path along the Mississippi River in Saint Paul was named in his honor. The Samuel H. Morgan Regional Trail is an important cycling route in the city and is scheduled to eventually become the southern section of Saint Paul's Grand Round Scenic Byway.

Bibliography

Austin, Paul. "One Man's Quest - Samuel H. Morgan." Minneapolis Star Tribune (Minneapolis), March 29, 2011.

City of Saint Paul Communication Services. "Official Re-opening of the Sam Morgan Trail." YouTube. September 9, 2010. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zY7DYEKTPGA.

Crosby, Jackie. "In St. Paul, a new approach to the downtown riverfront ; After two decades of planning, demolition, collaboration and renovation, the Shepard Road area has advanced from industrial drab to become livable, scenic and inviting." Minneapolis Star Tribune, November 27, 2003.

Divine, Mary. "Parks Visionary was Literally a Trailblazer; Sam Morgan Looks Back on a Lifetime of Park Victories." St. Paul Pioneer Press, July 27, 2000.

Editorial. "Samuel H. Morgan; all Twin Citians are Beneficiaries." St. Paul Pioneer Press, October 19, 2000.

"Friends of Fort Snelling - Fort Snelling State Park History." Friends of Fort Snelling - Home. Accessed from http://www.fortsnelling.org/Fort-Snelling-State-Park-History.

Hella, U. W., and Robert A. Watson. Quest for Excellence: A History of the Minnesota Council of Parks, 1954 to 1974. St. Paul: Minnesota Parks Foundation, 1985.

Kimball, Joe. "Ponder This: Would your neighbors vote for you? ; Wellstone signs abound on Coleman's block; there are few signs at all on senator's turf." Minneapolis Star Tribune, September 20, 2002.

Morgan, Samuel H. Environmental Recollections: Including the Story of the Minnesota Parks Foundation, the First Twenty Years, 1967-1988. Saint Paul: Sam Morgan, 2000.

Pina, Phillip. "Minnesota Loses Steward of Land; St. Paul's Sam Morgan, 89, Helped Preserve Open Spaces." St. Paul Pioneer Press, October 18, 2000.

"Session Laws of Minnesota for 1961." Minnesota Legislature - Office of the Revisor of Statutes. Last modified April 20, 1961. https://www.revisor.leg.state.mn.us/laws/?id=570&year=1961&type=0.

1979 Minnesota Norsemen Professional Slow-Pitch Softball Season

2016-05-18T09:42:00.000-05:00

The success of 1978 carried the Norsemen into the 1979 season with a belief that big things were just around the corner for the team. They were the league runner-up and looked forward to building on that strong showing. They entered the new season hoping to bring a league championship home to St. Paul’s Midway Stadium. It even seemed like their two-year quest to be recognized had also turned a corner. Team games were scheduled to be broadcast on the radio on WWRD 1130. Channel 5 had agreed to tape a June game against the Milwaukee Schlitz and broadcast it locally the next day. The team remained as busy as it had ever been, planning a dozen new promotions and signing new players. 

One of the most heralded signings for the 1979 season was pitcher/infielder Bob Lurtsema. “Benchwarmer Bob” retired after a long career in 1977, and although he came to the Norsemen without the softball pedigree of his teammates, his time on the NFL field proved that he was an upper echelon athlete. Lurtsema, whose local celebrity continued to shine after his retirement, offered the Norsemen cross-promotional opportunities that previously hadn’t been available to them. He was the pitchman for Twin Cities Federal Bank commercials, and after signing with the Norsemen appeared in those advertisements in his softball uniform. A consummate showman, local news stations reported that he had struck out his wife six times in an indoor drill while getting ready for the season.  

Lurtsema revealed that he had four pitches in his repertoire, “slow, slower, rolling.” The fourth pitch affectionately referred to as “The Benchwarmer,” but joked that it would never get into the game. While he joked, Lurtsema took his decision to play seriously. He didn’t “want to look like a big overgrown (man) in a game where he doesn't belong.” The radio and television agreements, as well as the signing of Lurtsema, gave the Norsemen a chance to bring in new fans like never before. Doran hoped to capitalize. He spent $35,000 in advance promotions hoping to see six-thousand fans make their way to the park to see the team’s third season home opener.   

There were newly implemented league-wide rule changes to attempt to speed up the game. The outfield fences, once required to be 300 ft. were now to moved back to sit no closer than 315 ft. from home plate. Each of the bases, previously 65 ft. apart, were moved to 70 ft. Home runs were exciting, but they slowed the game down. The league’s plan for the new season was to showcase its athletes, not just it home run kings. Forcing teams to be aggressive instead of relying on home runs to win was a big step in that direction. New Manager Rick Finke applauded the moves, saying that his team would “go right out there and go at them.” The 1979 Minnesota Norsemen would push for two bases on every single and three on every double 

A reported crowd of 1867 came out to see the Norsemen opened at home against the Rochester Zeniths. Doran was disappointed in the poor turnout. It was a rough weekend for the Minnesota team on the field as well. While their new star pitched in each of the four games of the series, he was the losing pitcher each time. Unfortunately, the Norsemen wouldn’t benefit from a home field advantage in the season’s early going. The team lost their first eight games at home, finally winning a game against the Cleveland Competitors the second week in June. In spite of the slow start at home the team still managed to be successful, winning nearly as many games as it lost by the season’s halfway point. 

The fan support that the team had worked so hard to bring in each season had once again alluded them. Questions arose about the team's willingness to continue operating while it continued to lose money. The Norsemen had the financial backing that Joe Houle’s Goofy’s lacked, but the business losses likely still took their toll. According to local newspapers, each road series cost the team $5500 and consistently falling short of the three-thousand fan break even point at home was a “losing proposition.” Doran remained steadfast, saying that he “ha(d) a $200,000 investment, and (he) intend(ed) to keep this going until this (was) a winner.” The Norsemen were one of the top three financial teams in the league, and in the eyes of the owner, would be all right in the end. 

A July home series against the defending champion Detroit Caesar’s seemed to offer Norsemen faithful a slight glimmer of hope about the team’s financial future. It was reported that 5413 fans came out to see the team take on the Caesar’s. Never one to pass on a promotional opportunity, that day Doran and the team airdropped silver dollar coins onto the field. Fans sixteen and under were invited out to grab the coins. However, the coming out party for the team was soon after branded a farce by the local newspapers. According to their informal head counts reporters tallied only 2200 fans were in attendance, a number that included children and pets. The parking attendants also accounted for exactly 528 cars, making it nearly impossible for over five thousand fans to have been in attendance.  

Described as an “insult to the intelligence of those who were there,” the perceived deception virtually knocked the team out of the newspapers. Local coverage, already waning, became almost non-existent from that point on. The team that was so dominant on the field for much of 1978 couldn’t seem to put it together in 1979. They finished the season 32-32 and missed the playoffs entirely. The Milwaukee Schlitz beat the Kentucky Bourbons five-games to-three to win the league championship. The ASPSL would continue one additional season before folding; however 1979 would be the last for the Minnesota Norseman. They left the league after the season ended.   

Former Goofy’s owner Joe Houle’s 1977 proclamations for Midway Stadium never came to be. The stadium, long considered to be an unprofitable “white elephant” in Saint Paul, was demolished in 1981 to make way for a 106-acre industrial park complex.

The team had a three year run in the ASPSL:
The 1977 Minnesota Goofy’s: 
http://www.streetsofsaintpaul.com/2016/04/1977-minnesota-goofys-professional-slow.html

The 1978 Minnesota Norsemen:
http://www.streetsofsaintpaul.com/2016/05/1978-minnesota-norsemen-professional.html

1978 Minnesota Norsemen Professional Slow-Pitch Softball Season

2016-05-09T22:25:00.000-05:00

Image via Flickriver

(Originally posted at Minnesota Then)

The 1978 ASPSL season opened with a series of changes for the Minnesota team. The team that had played the previous year as the Goofy’s was now known the Minnesota Norsemen. New owner Steve Doran had the financial means that former owner Joe Houle lacked, and ensured players and fans that the money issues that caused the team to sputter in 1977 were a thing of the past. The Norsemen looked to distance themselves from the belief that slow-pitch softball lacked athletes and the ASPSL was little more than a glorified “beer league.”

There were new players added to the roster of fifteen. Their first signee for the 1978 season was hard-hitting catcher Bob “The Plant” McMahon, renowned in local circles for his ability to hit the long ball. Home runs were exciting, and that excitement would bring fans out to see the team play. However, it wasn’t just home run power. Another of the new Norsemen that year was Steve Winfield, the “jet-footed” older brother of MLB star and Saint Paul native Dave Winfield.

Much of the core from the 1977 team remained intact. The team practiced at the University of Minnesota Fieldhouse throughout the off-season to become a better team and more cohesive group. Outfielder Gene Parrish believed that the extra time together put them in the position to be “vastly improved in every phase of the game.” They also got stronger in the off-season as players like John Locke put on muscle. The 1977 Goofy’s squad was a good hitting team, but the 1978 Norsemen hoped to be a great hitting team.

The Norsemen went undefeated over their sixteen game exhibition schedule to open the 1978 season. They tore the cover off of the ball against a series of local community all-star teams located throughout the region. That success, coupled with lower ticket prices, had the Norsemen believing that the fan support that had eluded the team in 1977 would likely be realized in 1978, The new ownership brought a big-league mentality to the Norsemen, and the team felt that stability improved attitudes and made the team better. They weren’t predicting a championship, but they felt they were “of championship quality.”

The team opened its season on the road against the Milwaukee Schlitz on May 13th. A week later they were back at Midway Stadium to take on the Cincinnati Suds. The game, broadcast on KTWN FM 108, reportedly had nearly three-thousand fans in attendance. The Norsemen rewarded fans in attendance by hitting thirty-three home runs over the course of the double-header. On Saturday St. Paul Mayor George Latimer threw out the first pitch. The team swept the weekend series against the Suds.

Home runs came early and often throughout the beginning of the season, and the team’s affinity for the long ball continued all season long. They won games handily in the early going, and were proving that they weren’t “just another barroom team.” Win or lose the Norsemen made an impression on the teams that they played against each week. They finished the 1978 with 434 home runs, hitting a lot when they lost and even more when they won.

A renewed focus, a winning streak, and home runs in bunches didn’t bring the fans to the park at levels that the Norsemen had hoped. Doran publicly bemoaned that “(he) didn’t know what more (he) could do to show St. Paul it (was) important to the Norsemen.” The team had twelve wins in its first fifteen games, and averaged nearly ten home runs in each game, but struggled to get even one-thousand fans out to Midway Stadium with any degree of consistency.

The lack of fan support was so bad that Doran resorted to handing out questionnaires to those in attendance during a June series against the Hard Hats to see if they could provide some insight. Without providing specifics, Doran noted that more people were coming to the ballpark and that the increase in support was reflected in concession sales. He anticipated losing $40,000 in 1978, but believed he would recoup his investment once the league popularity inevitably took off.

In spite of consistently winning games by large margins, the Norsemen seemed to be unable to get over the hump to become a relevant sports option in the eyes (and wallets) of Twin Cities fans. The summer months saw the team compete against the Twins, Kicks, Vikings, and North Stars for fans. Attendance numbers for each game well below the three-thousand fan break-even point showed that the team was losing the battle.

The Norsemen finished the regular season with a record of 40–24. Five players hit more than forty home runs, led by Dale Palm’s seventy. After dispatching the Cincinnati Suds in two games the Norsemen advanced to the World Series against the Detroit Caesar’s. Detroit proved to be too much for the Minnesota team to handle, sweeping the team in four games to take the title.

Learn about the 1977 Minnesota Goofy's team here.

Minnesota Norsemen 1978 Program & Yearbook

1977 Minnesota Goofy’s Professional Slow Pitch Softball Season

2016-04-28T20:30:00.000-05:00

logo via Pro Softball History Flickr Page

(Also posted at Minnesota Then)

The game of softball has roots that reach back into the late 19th century. Its popularity increased significantly over the years and by the 1970s it was considered America’s largest participation sport. In an effort to capitalize on that popularity, Columbus, Ohio executive Bill Byrne created the American Professional Slow-Pitch Softball League (ASPSL) and reached out to potential investors in cities throughout the United States to field teams. One of the league’s inaugural squads was the Minnesota Goofy’s.

The Goofy’s, named after a bar in Minneapolis, were owned by Joe Houle. The team was comprised of twelve amateur players from local Twin Cities softball leagues. A public tryout was held at Midway Stadium in April of 1977 to complete the league required twenty player roster. Of the one-hundred and sixty-two potential prospects that were mailed a letter that began “Dear Prospective Player” eight were chosen to join the team. Each of the players picked signed a contract to be paid $1000 for the season. By league rules, they were also entitled to a percentage of the team’s profits.

There was an additional financial incentive for players chosen to the team. The league’s top four teams split a one-hundred-thousand-dollar year-end bonus. First place netted fifty-thousand dollars to split among the team and twenty-five thousand dollars went to second place. Third place and fourth place were worth a fifteen-thousand and ten-thousand dollars prize respectively. While there was the potential to make money playing, no one expected to get rich. The players agreed to play because of a genuine love for the game.

There were some surprises. One of the players signed to the team for that inaugural season was former Minnesota Twin and 1965 American League MVP Zoilo Versailles. The 36-year old former shortstop saw his MLB career end in 1971 and hoped to “prove he could still play.” Houle felt the signing of Versailles, coupled with the incredible popularity of softball would spell success for the Goofy’s. In his eyes, slow-pitch softball would be so popular in Minnesota that “they are going to have to divert 35E and 35W right into the parking lot.” Houle noted that “Midway, in three years, will need another deck and a dome” to accommodate fan response.

The 1977 schedule had the Goofy’s playing seven road trips and seven home stands. Teams played two double-headers against each other over the course of a weekend. Each game was seven innings long. The Goofy’s fifty-six game season began at Midway Stadium against the Cincinnati Suds on May 29, 1977. Houle threw out the first pitch from the press box, noting that the Governor and Mayor were “previously engaged”. 2945 fans came out on Sunday, and 1100 the next night. The Goofy’s finished their opening weekend with two wins and two losses.

Houle had hoped to sell 3000 season tickets by the time the season began but managed only 300. In spite of the setback he remained confident, noting that “we are going to be champions of the world in slow-pitch” and hoping that would lead to local support. The team started well and soon found themselves in second place at 12–4 with an away series on tap against the 14–2 Detroit Caesars. In spite of early success, the team had trouble drawing fans to the stadium, averaging around 2200 per day. Houle noted that the team needed an average of 3000 paying spectators per day to break even.

Getting fans to come and see the games remained a challenge in the early days of the Goofy’s season. Houle added a $2 “Blue Chip Section” to try and increase attendance. However, by a July 4th home series against the Kentucky Bourbons, the season that had begun with so much hope hit bottom. Versailles, hurt while sliding into third during the opening weekend had become little more than a spectator during the season, having only seven at-bats at that point in the season. Team manager noted Versailles injuries when explaining why he left the team.

Attendance also bottomed out that weekend against the Kentucky Bourbons as only 350 fans made the trip to the stadium. Losses began to mount, and the financial problems that came with the lack of paying spectators grew significant enough to become public. Houle owed $2000 for team uniforms and hadn’t paid a Detroit hotel for rooms rented by the team during a late June series against the Caesars. The team was averaging only 1000 fans per day, and Houle pointed to that lack of support when discussing the team’s financial issues noting that “when you draw a crowd like this, you have problems.”

By the end of July Joe Houle had agreed to sell the team to 29-year old executive Steve Doran. The transaction was announced at a Twin Cities press conference by League Commissioner Whitey Ford. Financial terms weren’t disclosed, but it was believed that Doran had agreed to take over the club by assuming all of its debts — which at that point included paying the players. Doran felt that “if run properly, the team (would) be a viable enterprise.” By the time the sale was finalized on July 31, the team was mired in a sixteen game losing streak.

Doran promised changes. He installed Terry Fredrichs as manager and started making plans to get fans to come out to Midway Stadium to see the team play. While still hoping to finish the season strong, Doran made plans for 1978. He announced that season tickets would cost $24, and single-game tickets would be $1.75 per seat. He wanted the team to be financially viable entertainment “for the average family” and felt those prices would accommodate that. He also announced a contest to rename the team, noting that “Goofy’s doesn’t sound that funny anymore.”

After starting the season 12–4, the Minnesota Goofy’s ended their only season with a record of 24–30 and missed the playoffs. The Detroit Caesars defeated the Baltimore Monuments in a best-of-seven series (4–0) to win the league’s inaugural World Series.

The Bicycle Scorcher Menace of the 1890s

2015-03-10T07:45:00.000-05:00

(The Unrestrained Demon of the Wheel)

The advent of the “safety” bicycle in the mid-1880s pushed bicycling in the state of Minnesota (and beyond) from a fad toward a full-blown national institution. Each day more people took up the “wheel”, and its popularity grew by leaps and bounds. However, little was done to accommodate the mode of travel of the new riders. Increasing numbers of bicyclists, called “wheelmen”, rode on sidewalks teeming with pedestrians. Frequent collisions made travel unsafe and pushed city officials to pass an ordinance that eventually forced all riders off of city sidewalks and onto the street.

In the early 1890s cities enacted bicycling ordinances to regulate the travel of “wheelmen”. St. Paul’s first set of bicycling rules were signed into city law on December 12, 1892. In an effort to protect pedestrians these leaders chose to legislate where, when, and how bicyclists could travel. The ordinances enforced speed limits, forced “wheelmen” off of many city sidewalks, and required that they ring warning bells or blow whistles to alert pedestrians. Those that didn't follow the rules were subject to fines between $1 and $50.

The Scorcher

The majority of “wheelmen” followed the ordinance to the letter. They loved the independence offered to them by the bicycle, and while they weren't necessarily in favor of inhibiting it through legislation, believed that public safety was paramount. However, it seemed that not everyone felt the same way. One group of bicyclists, referred to as "scorchers", disregarded many of the bicycling rules put in place in the region. These young (predominantly) men rode well above the set speed limit and showed a brazen disregard for the safety of others.

The “scorcher” phenomenon of the era went on throughout the country. Any place that offered a flat road on a hill was seemingly at risk of being overrun by bicyclists “scorching”. Cities like Chicago, Denver, New York, Buffalo, and beyond fought to stop “scorchers” and their unsafe bicycling habits. Every city seemed to have particular locales within its limits that “scorchers” congregated to. In St. Paul “scorching” was prevalent at any of a number of of streets with downhill slopes in or into downtown.

Public opinion of “scorchers” was very low. They were called “callow youth”, the “worst kind of nuisance”, "reckless cad(s)" and "hump-backed bulging eyed creature(s)" that turned "an instrument of health and pleasure" into a dangerous weapon. The “scorchers” perceived blatant indifference for public safety caused an uproar. They were considered a menace that needed to be stopped. "Wheelmen" of the afflicted cities that followed the rules felt that these few reckless riders gave the majority of bicyclists a bad name. In Saint Paul, bicyclists called upon the mayor to commission a staff of the best riders in the city to stop and arrest those that "scorched" and continued to put the public in harms way.

Agencies of Death

Police officers set up the equivalent of speed traps and timed bicyclists as they made their way from one point to another. If they went too fast, or rode by in an unsafe manner, the police chased down the offending “scorcher” and took them to jail. Eventually cities created formal “Bicycle Squads” of officers. Their job was to chase down “scorchers” on their bicycles and arrest them. Interestingly, the public sentiment of these special squads soon seemed to be no better than the opinion of the “scorchers” themselves.

City officials continued to update the bicycle ordinance, making it more difficult for law abiding "wheelmen" to ride their bicycles. In response, and probably in an effort to distance themselves from dangerous riders, local riding organizations came forward and offered their assistance against the “scorchers”. They recommended the mayor deputize a number of their top riders to be part of a group of “specials” tasked with stopping “scorchers” in the streets.

Eventually the conversation turned toward the continued building of bicycle paths for the "wheelmen". Local communities began to build bicycle paths in 1896. They were frequently used and seemed to help create a safer environment for travel in the city. In short time, reported accidents due to "scorchers" dropped significantly as the paths kept riders separated from pedestrians. Police officers that patrolled the paths continued to arrest those that rode unsafely.

Scorcher Comic

After the turn of the century the conversation in regard to bicycles shifted significantly. In 1901 the talk moved away from bicyclists that “scorched” to those that had taken up riding for the first time. “Wheelmen” felt that these incredibly slow riders, with their “‘shivery handlebars’ and (an) uncertain direction” as they wobbled down bike paths, were as bad as any “scorcher”. While the consensus was that the “scorcher” still traveled too fast, at least they were experienced enough to handle their bicycles. They called for a happy medium of experienced riders and moderate speed.

Around the same time, the automobile started to become more popular, and took the place of the bicycle as the prevalent mode of travel and leisure in the area. Bicycle “scorchers” were soon a thing of the past, replaced by the “auto”. “Scorchers” continued to wreak havoc on streets throughout the region, they just did so in a motorized vehicle instead of on the seat of a bike.

(More from Minnesota's early bicycling history available at https://medium.com/@mnthen)

Works Cited:

“Bicycle Police Start,” St. Paul Daily Globe, September 21, 1898, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059523/1898-09-21/ed-1/seq-2/.

“Caught in the Act,” St. Paul Daily Globe, April 9, 1897, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059523/1897-04-09/ed-1/seq-7/.

“Cycle Notes,” St. Paul Daily Globe, June 27, 1898, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059523/1898-06-27/ed-1/seq-5/.

“Cycling Regulations Needed,” St. Paul Daily Globe, May 24, 1896, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059523/1896-05-24/ed-1/seq-4/.

“Eruption of Wheels,” St. Paul Daily Globe, March 10, 1896, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059522/1896-03-10/ed-1/seq-4/.

Minnesota Encyclopedia, Minnesota Historical Society. "Bicycling Craze in Minnesota, 1890s." http://www.mnopedia.org/event/bicycling-craze-minnesota-1890s

“Monday Notations,” St. Paul Daily Globe, December 13, 1892, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059522/1892-12-13/ed-1/seq-2/.

“Slow or Scorching,” St. Paul Daily Globe, May 23, 1900, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059523/1900-05-23/ed-1/seq-6/.

“Summer Tours,” St. Paul Daily Globe, May 18, 1896, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059523/1896-05-18/ed-1/seq-8/.

“Where the 'Autos' Scorch,” Minneapolis Journal, June 28, 1901, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045366/1901-06-28/ed-1/seq-2/.

The Beginning of the Saint Paul Winter Carnival

2014-10-31T08:00:00.000-05:00

(Ice Palace, Saint Paul Winter Carnival 1886)

In the last half of the 19th century the city of Saint Paul gained a reputation as a wonderful summer destination but horrible place to be in the winter. In 1885 a New York reporter, upon his return home after visiting the area, wrote that Minnesota was “another Siberia, unfit for human hibernation in the winter.” On October 31, 1885, a group of “about fifty or sixty” leading St. Paul businessmen met at the Ryan Hotel and discussed ways to promote the winter splendor of the area. They hoped to show that St. Paul was an amazing place year round.

The group settled on holding a winter carnival and building an Ice Palace. They hoped to replicate the success that the city of Montreal had found after their first winter carnival in 1883. These businessmen felt that a carnival would show the year-round value of the city. It also would be “worth a great deal of money.” Not only would it promote the area, but it was a chance to advertise the wherewithal of the citizens of Saint Paul. They felt that a carnival would turn the winter season into one of “continuous enjoyment.”

View of Proposed Ice Castle Nov 8, 1885

Business leaders felt they needed a "hook", a grand reason for people to come to the area to take part in their winter celebration. They decided that they would have a massive ice castle built. It would be the attraction at the center of everything, with an interior housing “booths of all kinds and stands for bands and orchestras.”

The measure was approved by the group. It was decided that $12,000 dollars would be enough to raise the grand structure. The building cost was significant but everyone in attendance felt it was realistic for what they hoped to accomplish. Easy accessibility to lots of ice, and a climate that would preserve the palace for a prolonged amount of time were seen as additional unique benefits. The St. Paul Winter Carnival and Ice Palace Association would raise the money through the sale of stocks at $25 per share. Central Park would eventually be named the location of the ornate palace of ice and be a boon for the city in the coming winter. The palace would give people from everywhere “something to gaze on.”

The ice structure would be modeled after the grand palaces of Europe. The goal was to replicate their “pleasing and substantial architecture.” The finished structure would stand one hundred and forty long and one hundred feet high. The palace would have thirty foot high walls and boast a tower reaching one hundred twenty feet into the sky. It would be “illuminated with electricity” and have emblematic and fantastic shapes frozen into the ice.

Ramsey Hill 1886

While the palace was the centerpiece of the Winter Carnival idea, it wasn’t its entirety. The city would do everything possible “to make everybody have a good time.” They would offer ice skating, tobogganing, snowshoeing, and much more. There would be ornate parties, balls, and booths and businesses of all kinds. A small admission fee, “slight on ordinary days, with an increase on days when there would be special entertainment” would be charged to help recoup costs.

Public opinion of a winter carnival was initially mixed. Some felt a carnival would be a “pleasant diversion” from the cold that would bring people from all over to see the winter splendor of Saint Paul. However, naysayers believed it was foolish to call attention to the cold winter conditions of the city. The Carnival Association pushed forward. On November 2, 1885 the St. Paul Chamber of Commerce announced that a winter festival greater than Mardi Gras would soon come to Minnesota's capital city. No longer would there be a reason to leave the winter cold for a “land of orange blossoms.”

On a December 2nd the Winter Carnival group met to discuss the status of preparations. The excitement of the upcoming event reverberated around the city. The group had already netted $10,610 dollars toward their $12,000 dollar goal. They decided that the kickoff of the city’s inaugural winter celebration would take place on February 1, 1886. On Christmas day local newspapers advertised a “grand Carnival and Festival during the beautiful month of February.” The papers boasted that the event would take place in “the most rapidly growing and handsomest city on the continent.”

Winter Carnival Opening Day Parade 1886

As opening day drew near preparations were made to accommodate a large influx of spectators expected to come to the city. Officials worked with the railroads to offer affordable rates into Saint Paul during the festivities and met with various lodging houses to ensure that there were low-cost options to stay in the heart of downtown. This would give carnival-goers the financial ability to take in all the festivities. Other events took shape as well, with a ice carving contest and Masquerade Ball scheduled to take place opening night at the Ryan Hotel ice rink.

The carnival preparation continued through January and lasted until late in the night on the eve of the event. In spite of the challenges of carrying out such a grand vision (inclement weather not among them) the event was ready to go by the morning of February 1st. The Ice Palace was completed, small ice statues and arches were built and placed throughout the city, and local businesses were decorated with flags. Visitors poured into Saint Paul to take part in the history making event.

Opening day came and “the mad carnival [was] on.” Saint Paul could now show that winter months weren't a “perpetual night” but were instead “touched ... by a sun whose brightness [was] unrivaled the world over.” As expected, people came from all directions (and climates) to take in the splendor of the Ice Palace, but the unique castle of ice was not the event’s lone success. Large crowds were found at all hours of the day taking in the sights and sounds of the city.

The first day saw a parade of five-thousand march down the streets of St. Paul. Excited onlookers cheered for them the entire length of their route. The night showed the beauty of winter with thousands of lights shining through a city full of intricate ice structures. The city was awake with excitement the entire opening day, and remained so for the remainder of the grandiose event.

The 1886 Saint Paul Winter Carnival was an immediate success and the first of many held by the city of Saint Paul.

Works Cited:

“A Winter Carnival,” St. Paul Daily Globe, October 23, 1885. http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059522/1885-10-23/ed-1/seq-2/.

“The Winter Carnival,” St. Paul Daily Globe, October 28, 1885. http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059522/1885-10-28/ed-1/seq-2/.

“A Palace of Ice,” St. Paul Daily Globe, November 1, 1885. http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059522/1885-11-01/ed-1/seq-2/.

“The Winter Carnival,” St. Paul Daily Globe, November 3, 1885. http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059522/1885-11-03/ed-1/seq-4/.

“The Ice Carnival,” St. Paul Daily Globe, November 8, 1885. ,http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059522/1885-11-08/ed-1/seq-17/.

“Central Park Selected,” St. Paul Daily Globe, December 2, 1885. ,http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059522/1885-12-02/ed-1/seq-2/.

“First Grand Ice Palace and Winter Carnival at St. Paul” (Advertisement),” St. Paul Daily Globe, December 25, 1885. http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059522/1885-12-25/ed-1/seq-26/.

“The Ice Palace,” St. Paul Daily Globe, January 27, 1886. http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059522/1886-01-27/ed-1/seq-8/.

“Striking Decorations: Elaborate Arches, Ice Statues, Towers and Monuments,” St. Paul Daily Globe, February 2, 1886. http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059522/1886-02-02/ed-1/seq-1/.

“An Ice Festival: To-day’s Program,” St. Paul Daily Globe, February 3, 1886. http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059522/1886-02-03/ed-1/seq-1/.

Dregni, Eric, Weird Minnesota: Your Travel Guide to Minnesota's Local Legends and Best Kept Secrets (New York, NY: Sterling, 2006), 26.

“The Montreal Carnival (From Harper's Magazine March 8, 1884)” Victoriana Magazine. http://www.victoriana.com/history/montrealcarnival.htm.

The Early History of Bicycling in the City (1880 - 1902)

2014-10-23T18:12:00.000-05:00

(Bicycle Group - MNHS)

The bicycling movement came to the Midwest in the latter part of the 1870s. Bicycles with a large front wheel and much smaller rear wheel started showing up on the streets. Curious onlookers didn’t know what to think of the strange contraption, called an “ordinary". In 1878 a local paper described them as, “(t)hose things that they (people) ride and look into second story windows with.” The bicycles were seen as a “steel horse”, similar in function to an actual horse without the risk of being thrown off while riding. Cyclists, called “wheelmen,” also didn’t have to deal with feeding and cleaning up after their bicycles.

Bicycling in the 1880s was more about spectacle than actual ridership. The strange style and high cost of the "ordinary" kept people from buying them. In spite of those things, people were indeed talking about the new bicycles. (Fictional) stories abounded of husbands bringing a bicycle home to their family. The few that actually figured out how to ride the new contraption inevitably fell down. Those that rode bicycles had a hard time riding on the many unpaved roads in the city. They fell off - or took “headers” - a lot.

(Penny Farthing "Ordinary" Bicycle)

Though it had not yet caught on with the metro area populace, events showcasing bicycling sprung up in the new decade. Amateur races pitted “wheelmen” against each other in timed races. Other competitions matched cyclists up against horses. People came out in droves to see acrobats, high wire acts, and trapeze artists perform while riding on an “ordinary.”

Still a new mode of transportation, conversations about cyclists' rights in the city were yet to be had. No one knew how the bicycle should fit in on the streets of the city. Riders weren't pedestrians, because they didn't walk. They also couldn’t be treated like the horses and carriages that made their way through downtown. In 1884 a cyclist brought a civil case against a livery-man for damages to his bike after the two collided in the streets. The jury, unable to determine which man had the right of way, was unable to reach an agreement.

Toward the end of the decade, a change in bicycle style brought on an explosion of popularity in cycling that would carry on through the 1890s. The "ordinary" gave way to a bicycle with equal-sized front and rear tires called a "safety." The new bike was easier to ride and cost less money. In a short time it seemed that everyone in the city was buying one. Ridership, in the hundreds a few years prior, soon climbed into the thousands.

Many of the roads beyond the core downtown areas remained unpaved. Riders, unable to pedal through the bumpy dirt streets, instead rode on the sidewalks. Some cyclists rode too fast and ran into helpless pedestrians - in some cases causing significant injury (the worst of the offenders were called "scorchers"). In 1891 St. Paul, like communities throughout the United States, tried to protect pedestrians by making it illegal to ride on the sidewalks of the city. Cyclists were forced to the streets whenever they were paved or risked being ticketed.

(Man on a bicycle - MNHS)

In December 1892 the St. Paul City Council drew up the city's first bicycling ordinance. The first of its seven provisions called for "wheelmen" to stay off of sidewalks in any part of the city with paved roads. The speed limit in the streets was 8 mph, and whenever unpaved roads forced cyclists to the sidewalk, they were required to ride no faster than 6 mph. Officials required sidewalk riders to carry a whistle or warning bell and sound it when they were within 50 ft of a pedestrian. Riders also had to carry a lit lantern on the front of their bike when they rode at night.

City officials cracked down on "scorchers," which they considered to be "the worst kind of nuisance". The police stopped anyone that went over the speed limit and fined them to attempt to get riders to slow down. The fines were pretty small, usually no more than $5 dollars, and on their own they weren't enough to change rider behavior. Soon "scorchers" were being arrested for riding too fast. Many of the arrested "wheelmen" used their front bike wheel to get out of jail until their court cases were heard.

Near the midpoint of the decade there were between 12,000 - 15,000 riders in the city. The bicycle had “come to stay.” However, road conditions had not significantly improved over the same perioid. These conditions kept riders on the sidewalk and continued to cause injuries in the city. Officials, concerned about pedestrian safety, forced riders to the streets. Sub-par road conditions made this a poor solution. “Wheelmen” offered an alternative. They called for separate paved bike paths throughout the metro for them to ride on. These paths would give cyclists the ability to travel throughout the city and keep them away from pedestrians.

(Cycle Paths of the City)

Cyclists felt that provisions at one time had been made throughout the city for the horse. Now that "the wheel had supplanted the horse," provisions should be made for it as well. On February 26, 1896 a group of 75 "wheelmen" representing Minneapolis and St. Paul met at the Ryan Hotel. They discussed cyclists rights and the building of bicycle paths. The money to build these paths would come from the "wheelmen" themselves. It would be raised from membership dues paid to the current as well as the yet-to-be formed pro-cycling associations in the area.

(Cycle Paths of the City)

Led by the Twin Cities Cycle Association, bike clubs soon popped up to collect dues to defray the cost of building paths. After some debate, the group decided that the first bicycle path in the two cities would meet at the Lake Street Bridge. St. Paul would build paths on Summit and Marshall Avenues and Minneapolis would build one on Lake Street. A short time later one was built between St. Paul and White Bear Lake. It eventually stretched all the way to Wildwood Amusement Park.

The groups found that riders were receptive to the path idea, and "wheelmen" throughout the cities were using them. Soon the Associations started considering paths to more remote locations, like Taylors Falls and Lake Minnetonka. Things started slowly, with only 18 miles of path built in St. Paul in the first year, but officials found that injuries due to bicycle collisions dropped almost immediately. At the turn of the century communities throughout the state began to take over the maintenance of bicycle paths. In January of 1901 Sidepath Commissioners were appointed throughout the state to regulate the upkeep of existing paths and continue the construction of new ones.

By 1902 the city of St. Paul boasted 115 miles of "smooth" bicycle paths for the “wheelmen” of the city.

(More from Minnesota's early bicycling history available at https://medium.com/@mnthen)

Works Cited:

“An Interesting Case,” St. Paul Daily Globe, December 12, 1884, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059522/1884-12-12/ed-1/seq-6/.

“Cycle Paths of City,” St. Paul Daily Globe, June 8, 1902, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059523/1902-06-08/ed-1/seq-12/.

“Cyclists and Law,” St. Paul Daily Globe, December 23, 1896, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059523/1896-12-23/ed-1/seq-8/.

“Ho for the Wheels,” St. Paul Daily Globe, February 27, 1896, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059522/1896-02-27/ed-1/seq-5/.

“Items of Interest,” St. Paul Daily Globe, July 21, 1878, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83025287/1878-07-21/ed-1/seq-2/.

“Minnesota Law Supplement,” St. Paul Daily Globe, April 19, 1901, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059523/1901-04-19/ed-1/seq-15/.

“Patrol the Paths,” St. Paul Daily Globe, May 25, 1897, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059523/1897-05-25/ed-1/seq-4/.

“Reardon Stops It,” St. Paul Daily Globe, June 26, 1896, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059523/1896-06-26/ed-1/seq-2/.

“Roads for Bikes,” St. Paul Daily Globe, July 28, 1895, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059522/1895-07-28/ed-1/seq-13/.

“The Bicycle,” St. Paul Daily Globe, September 11, 1882, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83025287/1882-09-11/ed-1/seq-2/.

“The Steel Horse,” St. Paul Daily Globe, June 5, 1881, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83025287/1881-06-05/ed-1/seq-3/.

“To Tonka Lake Awheel,” St. Paul Daily Globe, October 26, 1897, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059523/1897-10-26/ed-1/seq-3/.

“White Bear's Jubilee,” St. Paul Daily Globe, June 21, 1896, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059523/1896-06-21/ed-1/seq-12/.

“Wildwood Bicycle Path,” St. Paul Daily Globe, July 25, 1896, ,http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059523/1896-07-25/ed-1/seq-8/.

The First Wabasha Street Bridge

2014-10-05T16:20:00.003-05:00

(Wabasha Bridge, St. Paul - MNHS)

The United States Congress passed the Organic Act on March 3, 1849 providing for the formation of a territorial government in Minnesota. The first session of the local legislature took place on September 3rd of that year in the town of St. Paul. As the new seat of government, the town was incorporated and established as the capital of the territory on November 1, 1849.

In 1851 the treaties of Traverse des Sioux and Mendota opened up the majority of southern Minnesota to white settlement. Within a short time cities sprung up throughout the region. The challenges of crossing the Mississippi River from its south side kept newcomers from doing business at the newly christened capital. The city of Hastings was quickly becoming the center of commerce in the area. Territorial leaders believed a bridge was needed to link the river's east and west sides to continue the growth of St. Paul.

On March 4, 1854 the Territorial Legislature enacted a charter to incorporate the St. Paul Bridge Company. The company was tasked with choosing a location in St. Paul and constructing a bridge on a north-south line that reached “from bluff to bluff” across the river. Under the terms of the charter, no other bridge could be built within one mile of their completed bridge for a period of thirty-five years. At that point the bridge would become the joint property of the Ramsey and Dakota counties.

To maintain the charter, the company had to begin construction within two years from the date of the agreement. The St. Paul Bridge Company struggled to sell its stock and was forced to ask the Legislature to extend the start time. In March of 1856 the Legislature agreed to allow the company to start work later in the year. Construction began in the fall, with a new requirement to finish within four years instead of five.

Wabasha Bridge, built 1858, tolls abolished 1874

In spite of flooding in the Spring of 1857, bridge work pushed forward in earnest. The financial problems that the company had been dealing with since their outset reached a peak later that year. On September 15 laborers and mechanics refused to continue to work until they received their unpaid back wages. The company, still unable to dispose of all its stock, couldn't meet those demands and asked the city for financial help.

In March of 1858, St. Paul leaders loaned the company $100,000 worth of city bonds to help pay its debts and continue construction. The St. Paul Bridge Company agreed to use the bridge property as collateral. If they were unable to pay the interest on the loan, they would relinquish the bridge to the city.

The bridge, at the time called “The St. Paul Bridge” was completed in June of 1859. It cost $165,855.81, $115,000 of which was paid by the city. It was a 1311 ft. long Timber Truss bridge, made almost entirely out of lumber to help keep costs down. The bridge stretched from Wabasha Street in St. Paul to Bridge Street (later called Dakota Avenue and finally South Wabasha) on the other side.

Travelers paid a toll to cross the bridge. Foot passengers paid ten cents, each “horse, mare, or mule” cost twenty-five cents, and every “swine or sheep” were charged two cents. People weren't using the bridge in the numbers that the company expected and the company was unable to make the interest payments on their loan. Per their agreement, the city took charge of the new bridge and kept the gate receipts (above expenses) to collect their debt. In March of 1867 the city acquired full ownership of the bridge from the company in exchange for one-third of the value of its stock.

Wabasha Street Bridge, St. Paul 1867 - MNHS

The (original) city of West St. Paul (not part of St. Paul) was incorporated in 1858. Its leaders hoped it would become a manufacturing center across the river from St. Paul. Unfortunately the bridge toll contributed to this never coming to pass. The residents of West St. Paul felt that the cost of the toll bridge burdened them more than it did other communities. In a 1873 petition to St. Paul leaders they wrote that they use the bridge more “and are more dependent upon it than residents of your city.” City leaders believed that the tolls were "inhibiting (the) development of the West Side..." They hoped that their annexation into St. Paul would convince the city to end the toll requirement.

St. Paul also had reasons to make annexation to reality as well. City leaders desperately wanted to extend their reach to the other side of the river as well. They wanted access to the mostly unused land and also felt that annexation would “aid (its) law enforcement”. Criminals evaded capture by crossing the bridge out of the city’s jurisdiction. But, with no one willing to help pay to maintain the bridge, St. Paul was unwilling to lift the toll. Dakota County would not relinquish West St. Paul if the bridge toll remained.

That changed in 1874 as the pro-annexation conversations grew louder. It was now seen as only a matter of time before St. Paul would agree to remove the toll. On November 3rd voters in both Ramsey and Dakota counties voted for the annexation of West St. Paul. As part of the agreement St. Paul lifted the toll on the bridge, allowing for free travel from one side of the river to the other. At noon on November 18, 1874 the city of West St. Paul was officially annexed into Ramsey County, becoming the Sixth Ward of the city of St. Paul and the bridge toll was no more.

Increased travel on the bridge brought with it growing concerns about its structural integrity. The 1870s and 1880s saw the conversion of many of the bridge’s now weathered lumber spans into iron. Continued structural issues soon brought on the reconstruction of the bridge. The work began alongside a temporary bridge beginning in 1889. The new structure opened to traffic in August of 1900.

Works Cited:

Blodget, Chaney Josiah. Early Bridges and Changes of the Land and Water Surface in the City of St. Paul. BiblioLife, 2009, 132-135.

Bridgehunter. “Wabasha Bridge.” http://bridgehunter.com/mn/ramsey/wabasha-street/.

Chapman Bliss, Frank. Past and Present of St. Paul, Minnesota; Being a Relation of the Progressive History of the Capital City of Minnesota from the Earliest Historical Times Down to the Present Day. Together with an Exposition of the Lives of the Makers of History. St. Paul: F.C. Bliss Publishing Company, 1888.

Historic American Engineering Record. “Wabasha Street Bridge.” Library of Congress. http://lcweb2.loc.gov/master/pnp/habshaer/mn/mn0400/mn0414/data/mn0414data.pdf.

Landsberger, Joe Frank. “History of the City of Saint Paul.” History of the City of Saint Paul. http://www.josfland.com/highbridge/cityhistory.htm.

Office of the Minnesota Secretary of State. “The Organic Act of 1849.” http://www.sos.state.mn.us/index.aspx?page=645.

Goodhue, J.M. Session Laws of the Territory of Minnesota Passed by the Legislative Assembly. St. Paul: 1851, 72-75.

Williams, J. Fletcher. A History of the City of Saint Paul, and of the County of Ramsey, Minnesota. Nabu Press, 2010, 460.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

City Planner George Herrold and the Northern Route

2014-06-23T16:29:00.000-05:00

(Proposed northern and southern inter-city routes for I-94 via "The City Planning Process: a Political Analysis.")

The discussion to build a highway to connect the Twin Cities began around 1920 and gained momentum shortly after the end of World War II. Rapidly increasing automobile use after the war meant that it was time to consider ways to overcome traffic gridlock on city streets. On November 1, 1945 the Pioneer Press offered their support for a new highway, one accessible to the University of Minnesota and designed to offer Minneapolis residents a way to “reach the State Capitol with more ease.” Highway department officials maintained that St. Anthony Avenue, running parallel to University and Marshall from downtown to the western city line, was the best option for the new highway.

Saint Paul’s eighty-two year old “founder of city planning” George Herrold, city planner since 1920 and regarded in local political circles to be an “unbending idealist,” voiced concerns about a placing a new highway on Saint Anthony Avenue (known as the St. Anthony Route). He believed the proposed route, if built to the scale being considered by officials, would cut the life out of the long established Prospect Park and Rondo neighborhoods. Herrold felt that it was the city’s civic duty to protect the interests of those citizens. While this was his most significant problem with the Highway Department’s planned route, it wasn't the only one.

The Highway Department’s proposed route separated the State Capitol and surrounding government buildings from downtown effectively , a move Herrold considered to be a “serious engineering blunder.” He couldn’t believe that officials hadn’t considered the economic ramifications of “placing the hundreds of employees of the Capitol and highway department… outside of the commercial and recreational districts” of downtown.

While Herrold agreed that the freeway would carry more vehicles more quickly, he felt that the automobile shouldn’t “dominate cities.” He believed that the St. Anthony Route was destined to become nothing more than a “gigantic ditch … and an unwelcome concentrator of exhaust fumes.” Herrold also thought that the chosen freeway route, decided on with a minimal amount of impact studies and debate, showed incredible bias by the Highway Department. He considered his role to be an independent advisor for the community as well as his political superiors. Beholden to neither, he believed that the education of both by presenting the pros and cons of multiple options was key to planning policy.

(George Herrold, Director of Planning for St. Paul 1920-1952)

He proposed an alternative that would come to be known as “The Northern Route”, recommending a four-lane roadway that ran a mile north of University Avenue along existing railroad lines. Herrold relied on his experience and understanding of the “heart” of the city (two things he felt we integral to the planning process) in offering his route. Putting the freeway next to rail lines would minimize the impact felt by neighborhoods and businesses in the area.

Herrold’s route ranged from three-quarters of a mile to one-quarter of a mile north of the Saint Anthony Route. It bypassed the Rondo neighborhood completely and only minimally impacted Prospect Park. It also came through behind the Capitol grounds, allowing government offices to remain a direct part of downtown. Though it would add to automobile commute times in and out of the city, the difference would be no more than a couple of minutes. Herrold believed having drivers go a little out of their way was a better option than destroying the make-up of existing neighborhoods in the metro.

City officials never seriously considered Herrold’s plan. Their studies showed that the majority of traffic that would use the highway lived south of University Avenue. The additional travel time beyond Saint Anthony Avenue to the Northern Route meant that Herrold's option would carry less traffic than their plan. The Northern Route also added to growing traffic levels on connecting streets. The increased use meant that these streets would need to be repaired more often – costing the city more money. In the end, Highway Department officials felt that convenience trumped the negative social impacts of their plan.

A large part of their decision was born in the economics of the time period. The passage of President Eisenhower’s 1956 Federal Aid Highway Act meant that the Federal Government would bear 90 percent of the cost of building the new highway. Herrold’s route didn't qualify for federal financial support. In the end city leaders wavered very little from their original plan. Interstate 94 between St. Paul and Minneapolis was built over the Saint Anthony Route.

On Monday Dec 9, 1968 at 2:15 in the afternoon, after many years of planning and nearly a decade of construction, the Twin Cities were linked with the dedication of the $80 million stretch of I-94. A coalition of leaders came from Saint Paul and Minneapolis and met in front of Highway 280. After a short ceremony (attended by approx. 200 people) representatives from each of the “twins” tied ribbons together to signify the linking of the two cities. By 4:00 pm that day the road was officially open to the public.

Works Cited:

Altshuler, Alan A. The City Planning Process: A Political Analysis. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1965.

Cavanaugh, Patricia. “Politics and Freeways: Building the Twin Cities Interstate System.” Center for Transportation Studies.

http://conservancy.umn.edu/bitstream/2082/1/Freeways.pdf.

Garrison, William L., and David M. Levinson. The Transportation Experience: Policy, Planning, and Deployment. New York: Oxford University Press, 2006.

Kunz, Virginia Brainard, and Robert Orr Baker. St. Paul, Saga of an American City. Woodland Hills, Calif.: Windsor Publications, 1977.

Nexus: David Levinson's Networks, Economics and Urban Systems Research Group. “Case Study #1: Interstate I-94.”

http://nexus.umn.edu/Courses/Cases/CE5212/F2004/CS1/CS1.html.

“Official Fought Freeway Route Near Capitol.” Session Weekly: A Non-Partisan Publication of the Minnesota House of Representatives 16, no. 12 (1999): 4, 17.

Pioneer Press (St. Paul), December 10, 1968.

Reicher, Matt. “The Birth of a Metro Highway (Interstate 94).” Streets.MN. September 10, 2013. http://streets.mn/2013/09/10/the-birth-of-a-metro-highway-interstate-94/.

The Birth of Como Park

2014-06-18T18:05:00.000-05:00

(Como Park, looking toward Como Lake - MNHS)

The first known person of Euro-American descent to settle in the Como area was Charles Perry. In 1848 he took possession of a 160-acre claim that would later become part of Como Park. In his short time there he farmed the land, grew potatoes and raised cattle. Due to an increased population around him, Perry soon left the land, moving north and settling near (present day) Lake Johanna.

In 1851 East Coast developer Henry McKenty came to Minnesota and purchased Perry’s claim. He dreamed of turning his holdings at Como into a resort area. He needed a link to St. Paul and spent $6000 to construct a road leading from downtown to the lake. His “Como Road” roughly followed the path of today’s Como Avenue.

Unfortunately for McKenty, his dream for Como Park wouldn't come to be. The Financial Panic of 1857 bankrupted him. On August 10, 1869, after many years of fighting to try and regain his earnings, the man once considered one of the wealthiest in St. Paul took his own life. His “Como Road” leading to the resort of his dreams soon fell into disrepair and became known as the “swamp route.”

In the 1870s famous landscape architect Horace W.S. Cleveland urged growing cities throughout the country to set aside land for public parks before it became scarce and prices skyrocketed. To Cleveland, parks were an important refuge from the hustle and bustle of urban life — they offered visitors a chance to see nature without leaving the limits of the city. Cleveland recognized many natural features in St. Paul that were worthy of preserving.

City leaders listened. In 1872, in the midst of an economic boom due to the rapid industrial development that took place after the Civil War, St. Paul decided that it needed an urban park system. This departure from the previous system of simple open spaces, would offer a system of parkways and boulevards to allow easy travel to visit and interact with city parks.

A Legislative act on February 29, 1872 called for the appointment of five commissioners to purchase land within a convenient distance of St. Paul for a park. A bond of $100,000 was provided by the city. Nearly 260 acres were purchased on the north and west of Lake Como in 1873 (the Lake was included) to eventually become the home of Como Park.

The boom that preceded the purchase of park land was soon after followed by bust. An economic recession in 1873 had residents of the city questioning a purchase that many were initially behind. They didn't understand how the city could use money to buy parkland when there were so many more important needs to be met. The economic downturn meant another fourteen years before anything would be done with the land.

During that time officials began to consider other options for the Como land. In 1875 a Legislative enactment passed calling for the purchased land to be broken up into 5-acre lots and given away as bonuses to “industrial enterprises” in an effort to help stimulate the economy. In 1882 the City Council allocated 40-acres for a workhouse on park land. It was built to house prisoners from St. Paul and the Ramsey County area. The building opened in February of 1883.

In 1887 funds became available and a Legislative enactment created a City Park Board. $225,000 was allocated for the improvement of the city’s park system; $25,000 of that money was to be used for Como Park. Horace W.S. Cleveland was hired to design the Park as well as the parkways that ran through it. Como Park soon began to take shape.

In 1891 Frederick Nussbaumer was named the Superintendent of Parks. He believed in Cleveland’s naturalistic philosophy, but also had a vision of a beautiful park with many recreational opportunities for visitors. Nussbaumer felt that every inch of the park should be enjoyed.

Como Park blossomed under Nussbaumer. By 1893, electric rail cars reached the area, making Como Park accessible to all of St. Paul. The first Shelter Pavilion, greenhouse, and boathouse and docks were also added. By 1896 the “Gates Ajar” and “Schiffman Fountain” had been installed. Como Zoo began in 1897 with the donation of three deer. Soon a large free-range pen housed animals native to the region like elk, deer and bison. In 1897 an interurban route came through the park with passengers from both Minneapolis and St. Paul.

At the beginning of the 20th Century Como Park was considered by many to be one of the finest parks in the United States. It was a local marvel. Many felt that you had not truly seen St. Paul until you had visited Como.

(Note: There is some debate as to how the Lake Como (formerly Sandy Lake) got its name. Many believe that Perry, born in the Swiss-Italian Alps named it after Lake Como in Italy. Many others feel that McKenty named it Como, because it sounded more exotic than Lake Sandy - and therefore easier to sell.)

Works Cited:

Bergerson, Roger “First Como Settler Didn't Stay Long.” Park Bugle. May 20, 2013. http://www.parkbugle.org/first-como-settler-didnt-stay-long/.

Castle, Henry A. History of St. Paul and Vicinity: A Chronicle of Progress and a Narrative Account of the Industries, Institutions, and People of the City and Its Tributary Territory. Volume II. Chicago: Lewis Pub., 1912.

“Como Park,” St. Paul Globe, July 3, 1904,
http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059523/1904-07-03/ed-1/seq-58/.

Kunz, Virginia B. “A Day in the Life of Henry McKenty.” Minnesota History 56, no. 4 (Winter 1998-99): 235-37. http://collections.mnhs.org/MNHistoryMagazine/articles/56/v56i04p235-237.pdf.

McGuire, Colleen “Best of Home Guide to Como Park: The Central Park of St. Paul.” CBS Minnesota. June 11, 2011.
http://minnesota.cbslocal.com/2011/06/11/guide-to-como-park-the-central-park-of-saint-paul/.

Ramsey County Historical Society. “Como Neighborhood.” http://www.rchs.com/neighborhoods/como_neighborhood.htm.

Schmidt, Andrew J. “Pleasure and Recreation for the People: Planning St. Paul's Como Park.” Minnesota History 58, no. 1 (Spring 2002): 40-58. http://collections.mnhs.org/MNHistoryMagazine/articles/58/v58i01p040-058.pdf.

Shinomiya, Sharon. “Como Park: A Brief Historical Tour of One of Saint Paul’s “beauty Spots”.” Como Park: District 10 Como Community Council. http://www.district10comopark.org/uploads/Como+Site+History_2_2.pdf.

Shinomiya, Sharon. “Como Park History Tour: Part I.” Como Park: District 10 Como Community Council. May 4, 2009. http://www.district10comopark.org/uploads/Como+Park+History+Tour+Short+Version+for+D10_2.pdf.

“St. Paul's Beautiful Parks Are Made Ready for Summer Visitors,” St. Paul Globe, April 10, 1904, http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90059523/1904-04-10/ed-1/seq-24/.

Warner, George E. History of Ramsey County and the City of St. Paul,including The. S.l.: British Library, Historic, 2011.

The Prom Ballroom on University Avenue

2014-06-12T07:58:00.000-05:00

(Prom Ballroom marquis, 1190 University Ave - MNHS)

The Prom Ballroom, a grandiose blue and white building located on the corner of University Avenue and Dunlap, opened its doors to the public on March 26, 1941. The $250,000 dollar structure boasted a prime location along the avenue, one that was easily accessible by streetcar from both St. Paul and Minneapolis downtowns. The success of this “Wonder Showplace of the Northwest” was immediate.

On opening night 6000 people packed the dance floor at 1190 University Avenue and danced the night away to the sounds of Glenn Miller and his Orchestra. An additional 3000 people had to be turned away. This was only the beginning. Soon people came from all over the Twin Cities to dance to the sounds of the Prom’s house band, the Northwest Orchestra, every Wednesday through Sunday night. Acclaimed bands, local and national, played the Prom on special nights.

The Prom was so popular so quickly that soon packed streetcars pulled up from downtown Minneapolis and St. Paul every dance night. Those same cars often left empty as throngs of people made their way inside and onto the dance floor. On many nights extra streetcars had to be sent out to make sure that everyone that came to the Prom was able to make the necessary transfer downtown to get home safely.

(Prom Ballroom, 1190 University Avenue - MNHS)

In 1952 the Jules Herman Orchestra was asked to be the house band at the Prom. The eleven piece troupe was led by Lawrence Welk’s former trumpet player Jules Herman and included his wife Lois (Best). Lois, who sang and played the organ, was Welk’s first official ‘Champagne Lady.’ Herman would front the Prom Orchestra for the next 35 years.

The Prom was always synonymous with great music. Throughout its storied history it was home to some of the greatest musical acts of the era. People came and danced to Louis Armstrong, Count Basie, Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis and many, many more. They saw Buddy Holly play in one of his last shows before his death.

The Prom was also known for the outlandish promotions of Harry Given Jr., seemingly none more famous that the ‘Live Baby Dance.’ The Prom offered to raffle a newborn baby to one lucky (and married) Minnesota couple (eligible to adopt) during one of their shows. A nurse was on stage as the winning raffle ticket was announced, and the City Welfare Department was in the crowd ready to arrest promoter Harry Givens. The ‘baby’ turned out to be a piglet.

As the Prom entered the 1960s attendance began to fall. The Interstate Highway System moved people into the suburbs and away from the city. Those that lived beyond the city limits could now commute into downtown to work and drive back home at the end of the day. To the immediate south, Interstate 94 pulled large amounts of auto traffic off of University and onto the freeway.

(Prom Ballroom dance floor on New Year's Eve - MNHS)

The Big Band sounds of an earlier generation had also become less popular. The Prom had to make changes. The owners, under the direction of Harry Given Jr., began to offer a catering business. Dances, once five nights a week, were now scheduled with much less frequency.

Sunday nights became orchestra nights, and special events were held during the week. In the eyes of the owners of the Prom the “tail (had been) wagging the dog” and the proposed changes would end up being good for business. In short time the Prom Catering business expanded, and mobile kitchens and off-site catering popped up in the Twin Cities.

As time wore on the building began to show its age. (Now) owner Harry Given Jr. was required by the city of St. Paul to make restorations that amounted to nearly a million dollars to bring it up to code. That, along with exorbitant property taxes, more than $80,000 in 1983 and nearly $55,000 in 1984, spelled the end of the Prom.

Given Jr. tried to sell the building to an owner that would carry on the legacy of the Prom but was unable to find a taker. Unsuccessful he sold to Rainbow Foods founder Sid Applebaum, who later sold to Ryan Companies. They soon after slated the building for demolition and the area for redevelopment. A week before the closing of the Prom the legendary ‘Cab' Calloway performed for a crowded dance floor at the aptly named "Wrecking Ball" event.

The last dance at the Prom Ballroom was on April 26, 1987. 700 people came from all over to spend one last night at the place that had “introduced them to each other.” The last song ever played at the Prom on University Avenue was “Thanks for the Memories.” Long-time orchestra director Jules Herman led a 10-piece troupe through the final song. At 11 o’clock that night crowds began to leave the Prom Ballroom on University Avenue for the last time. Later in 1987 the building that was home to nearly fifty years of music history was torn down. (See the news story of the demolition here.)

Works Cited:

“Cab’ to Stop at Prom,” Saint Paul Pioneer Press, April 16, 1987

Fuller, Jim and Staff Writer. "Prom Fans Say: `Thanks for the Memories'." Minneapolis Star and Tribune, Apr 25, 1987.

Meryhew, Richard and Staff Writer. "The Party's Over as Prom Center Closes Doors for Good." Minneapolis Star and Tribune, Apr 27, 1987.

Myers, Peter. “University Avenue: One Street, a Thousand Dreams” (video).

http://vimeo.com/56396680.

NDSU North Dakota State Libraries. “Finding Aid to the Jules and Lois Herman Photograph Collection.” http://library.ndsu.edu/repository/bitstream/handle/10365/17553/WelkPhoto004.pdf.

“Prom Ballroom Opens March 26,” Saint Paul Pioneer Press, March 9. 1941.

“Prom Evokes a Great Store of Fond Memories (Letter to the Editor),” St. Paul Pioneer Press and Dispatch, May 2, 1987.

“Prom’s Last Dance a Bittersweet Refrain,” Saint Paul Pioneer Press, April 27, 1987.

The First Safety Patrol in Minnesota

2014-06-03T15:53:00.004-05:00

(via MNHS Archives)

A rise in the popularity of the automobile in the years leading up to 1920 meant that streets that children crossed on their way to and from school were becoming increasingly busy and less safe. Cars were still a relatively new thing, and road safety rules were still being written. Sister Carmela Hanggi, a Catholic nun and principal of the Catholic Grade School near the Cathedral in St. Paul, was concerned about the safety of the students at her school.

She looked for a way to protect children in the area forced to cross busy streets as part of their school-day ritual. Sister Carmela felt it was dangerous for children, especially little ones, to cross those streets every day to get to their homes north of Summit Avenue and around Pleasant Avenue located below the school.

She heard about a group of mothers in New Jersey that came to school each day to walk children safely across the street. This unofficial program gave her the idea to start a program in St. Paul. Instead of using parents, Sister Carmela relied on the children themselves to help. She felt that this would help students foster a sense of responsibility, trust and pride while they protected their fellow classmates.

On February 21, 1921 at 3:30 in the afternoon the corner of Summit Avenue and (then) Kellogg Boulevard became the site of Minnesota’s first School Safety Patrol. It was soon deemed a success, and Sister Carmela felt that other schools should be able to appoint students to do the same job.

(About the date: The plaque on the monument at the site reads that the first School Patrol assisted crossing was on February 17th. However, most sources list Monday, Feb 21st as the correct date.)

(via MNHS)

She contacted the St. Paul Police Department and told them about her program. Sergeant Frank Hetznecker, who would later be named the first Superintendent of the St. Paul School Police, helped put Sister Carmela’s plan into action. Within a year ninety schools and churches in St. Paul had organized a Safety Patrol.

Soon schools all over the Twin Cities used school-police patrols. A short time later the local American Legion and Jaycees began sponsoring the program. With their help, the effects of the program rippled beyond Minnesota and into the Midwest. Eventually similar programs were used throughout the country.

Being named to the School Safety Patrol was a great responsibility and honor for the students that were involved in the program. Each was officially sworn in, outfitted with harness belts, given badges and stop signs (or flags) attached to bamboo poles.

(via MNHS)

The first Safety Patrol picnic was held for 4,000 patrol at Harriet Island on May 26, 1926. A parade started at the Capitol and ran through the streets of St. Paul toward Harriet Island. The 4000 were then recognized by local officials for their efforts to keep school children safe. Three were singled out at that inaugural picnic and given gold stars for their bravery. Safety Patrol guards John Vennelli, Stephen Adrian, and Paul Muellner were each honored for their part in capturing a local thief.

In 1968, just days before her 93rd birthday, Sister Carmela passed away. During an interview that took place late in her life, she was asked how many children she thought would have been hurt had a Safety Patrol never been started in Minnesota. She replied that she’d rather dwell on the number of children that weren't hurt because it was.

In 1969 a committee was formed to consider a suitable monument to recognize the site of the first patrol. $4000 in contributions came in from people and organizations throughout the state. In 1971 a commemorative sign was placed on the grounds.

At 3pm on June 6, 1973 an electric flagpole was dedicated on Summit Hill just below the Cathedral where the monument stood. The sign that had been placed there in 1969 was added to the flagpole monument. The flagpole raises the flag with the rising of the sun and it drops it again at sunset. It also responds to weather conditions.

Participants in the dedication included state and city officials as well as members of award winning patrols throughout Minnesota. St. Paul Mayor Lawrence Cohen activated the switch to unfurl the flag for the first time.

Works Cited:

“4,000 Attend Picnic Honoring School Police for their Work in Guarding the Safety of Pupils,” St. Paul Daily News, May 26, 1926.

“Flag up for Sister Carmela,” St. Paul Dispatch, May 30, 1973.

“Flagpole Will Be Patrol Memorial,” St. Paul Pioneer Press, June 5, 1973.

Minnesota Encyclopedia, Minnesota Historical Society. "The Origins of the School Safety Patrol, 1921." http://www.mnopedia.org/thing/origins-school-safety-patrol-1921

“Patrol Got Start Here,” St. Paul Dispatch, February 17, 1982.

Roberts, Kate. Minnesota 150: The People, Places, and Things that Shape our State. St. Paul: Minnesota Historical Society Press, 2007.

“School Patrol Founder Dies,” St. Paul Dispatch, May 9, 1968.

Saint Paul Public Schools. “Saint Paul School Patrol Supervisor's Manual.” April 06, 2004. http://transportation.spps.org/uploads/School_Patrol%E2%80%A6Manual040604.pdf.

Rudy Perpich and "The Portrait War"

2014-05-25T15:34:00.001-05:00

(via lawandeverythingelse.com)

In 1991 outgoing Governor Rudy Perpich, the only man to hold the office in non-consecutive terms, commissioned artist Mark Balma to paint a portrait of him and his wife Lola to be placed on the walls of the State Capitol. This was (and is still) traditionally done to commemorate those who had served as chief executive of the state. The portraits were then hung on the walls of the Capitol building at the end of their term. Perpich, having been Governor during a previous term, already had a painting.

(via nickcolemanmn.com)

Rudy Perpich holds the distinction of being the only person in Minnesota history to serve non-consecutive terms in the Governor’s seat, from 1976-1979 and 1983-1991. His first portrait, commissioned at the end of his first term, showed him standing in front of an open-pit mine in Hibbing, MN. It was a call to his Iron Range roots, an homage to his hometown and its importance to him.

At the end of his second term Perpich commissioned an artist to create a second painting, a portrait of him alongside his wife Lola. He felt that she had played an integral role in the governing of the state and that adding her to the painting would recognize that fact. The idea of adding the first lady to the Governor's portrait hadn't come up in over 130 years of statehood.

He felt that since this new term was separate from his first, he deserved a second painting. This time Perpich included his wife Lola in the portrait, something that had never been done in the state's history. Perpich's controversial request had never been considered.

In March of 1991, the Capitol Area Architectural and Planning Board voted to allow each governor, regardless of their time in office, only one portrait, Rudy had his in place in the Capitol from his first term and wouldn't be allowed a second one. He requested that the new painting become a replacement for the first, but the Planning Board declined, ruling that the governor must be the only subject in the portrait. Rudy wanted his

(via MNHS.org)

wife Lola to be included, but was not allowed.

Perpich felt that their decision was unfair. He argued that if his predecessor Al Quie, the man who defeated him in 1978, could show Quie with his horses, then Perpich should be allowed to include his wife. Perpich couldn’t understand why this was an issue, and wondered “if most men don’t like their wives or something.”

When that argument failed, Perpich paid $4,000 to rent a billboard on University Avenue. Located less than five blocks from the State Capitol, it showed a replica of the duo`s portrait and bore the message, “They won`t let us in the Capitol, so `Hi` from here.” The Planning Board was not swayed and the single first-term portrait of Perpich remained in the Capitol. Rudy Perpich passed away in 1995.

Although Rudy wouldn’t live to see it, his and Lola’s joint portrait eventually found its way onto the State Capitol walls. On June 27,2000, five years after his death from colon cancer and on the occasion of what would have been his 72nd birthday, the portrait of him and his wife was unveiled at a ceremony at the State Capitol. It was the first time in Minnesota history that the first lady was portrayed alongside her husband.

Works Cited:

“Former Governor Spends $4,000 To Display Portrait,” Orlando Sentinel, April 17, 1991.
http://articles.orlandosentinel.com/1991-04-17/news/9104170559_1_rudy-perpich-capitol-portrait.

Maeda, David. “Rudy and Lola.” Session Weekly 18, no. 16 (April 20, 2001): 15, 23. http://www.house.leg.state.mn.us/hinfo/swkly/2001-02/sw1601.pdf.

Minnesota Historical Society. “Governors of Minnesota.” http://collections.mnhs.org/governors/index.php/10004550.

Thompson, James (c.1799–1884)

2014-05-22T10:19:00.000-05:00

(Graphite drawing by Adlof Hoeffler of St. Paul, 1849. courtesy of MNHS)

(Originally posted on May 12, 2014 at http://www.mnopedia.org/person/thompson-james-c1799-1884)

James Thompson was born into a life of slavery in Virginia around 1799. He overcame the hardships of that life to work as a capable English-Dakota interpreter for Methodist missionary Alfred Brunson. After winning his freedom in the 1830s he became a respected citizen of the city of St. Paul known for his accomplishments more than his skin color.

James Thompson's first trip into Minnesota country came in 1827 under the supervision of his owner, sutler John Culbertson. Culbertson sold merchandise to the First Infantry stationed at Fort Snelling and brought Thompson along on the trip. Culbertson had received Thompson from his first owner, George Monroe (the nephew of President James Monroe), as payment for a gambling debt.

While staying at Fort Snelling Culbertson sold Thompson to officer William Day. In 1833 Thompson, still living at the fort with Day, married Marpiyawecasta (later anglicized to Mary), a daughter of the Dakota leader Mahpiya Wicasta (Cloud Man) and began to learn the Dakota language. When Day was reassigned to Fort Crawford in Prairie du Chien in 1836 he took Thompson along, separating him from his wife.

In 1837 the Methodist missionary Alfred Brunson searched for an interpreter to help him teach the Methodist faith to the American Indian people near Fort Snelling. He looked for a man who not only shared his faith but could clearly communicate its tenets to the Dakota. Believing Thompson to be a committed Methodist and recognizing his unique relationship with the Dakota, Brunson chose him to be his mission's interpreter.

With financial help from his friends in the East, Brunson was able to buy Thompson's freedom. By May 19, 1837 Thompson was a free man. Elated to be reunited with his wife, he returned to Fort Snelling with Brunson and his team.

Shortly after arriving at the fort in 1837 the group began the area's first Methodist mission in the Dakota village of Kaposia, located ten miles down the river from Fort Snelling. The mission's land was given to them by the Dakota leader Wakinyatanka "Big Thunder" (Little Crow III), who through either a budding Methodist faith or a pragmatic understanding of his people's relationship with the growing immigrant community welcomed the new mission.

All of that changed in 1839. Wakinyatanka no longer allowed his children to take part in the mission and attendance waned. Brunson left the church and his successor moved it to present-day Newport soon after. Thompson left Kaposia and began selling liquor near Fort Snelling.

In May of 1840, Thompson and other whiskey-selling squatters were forced to move. The group settled in a small community that would soon be known as Pig's Eye and later renamed St. Paul.

During this time Thompson worked as a carpenter. He helped construct the house of Edward Phelan and John Hays, considered to be the first home built in St. Paul. He also built and operated the first ferry boat between modern-day downtown and West St. Paul. By 1841 the Thompsons had settled in the area and had two children, a daughter named Sarah and a son, George. The couple named their son after George Monroe, James Thompson's first master.

Thompson was the first resident of African descent in the city, but this seemed to matter little to the people around him. Because survival in the small community relied so heavily on kinship, Thompson was judged less by the color of his skin than by his ability to play an active part in its growth. By many accounts, Thompson and his wife were welcomed as residents of St. Paul.

In 1849 Thompson, still a faithful Methodist, helped build a new church in the city's downtown. He donated money, land, and materials, including 1,500 shingles and two thousand feet of lumber.

At the onset of the U.S.-Dakota War in 1862 Thompson and his family were living near the Lower Sioux Agency. Thompson left his family for the safety of Fort Ridgely, realizing (correctly) that his Dakota wife and half-Dakota children would remain safe. After the war, Thompson was reunited with his family and eventually returned to St. Paul.

Years later, Thompson left Minnesota, following his son to Nebraska to live on the Santee Sioux Reservation. He died there on October 15, 1884.

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The Rock Island Excursion of 1854

2014-04-30T13:22:00.003-05:00

(Image courtesy of the Minnesota History Center archives)

(This article was originally posted on Feb 28, 2014 at MNopedia the Minnesota History Center's online history encyclopedia)

On February 22, 1854, the Chicago and Rock Island Railroad completed the first rail line to connect the Mississippi River to the Atlantic Ocean. To promote that feat the company contacted notable East Coast citizens and journalists and invited them to ride their train to Rock Island. From there, the visitors took a steamboat trip up the Mississippi, stopping at St. Paul. The journalists, pleased with what they saw, wrote of the beauty and splendor of a region that many in the East thought was little more than a wilderness.

The event, which organizers hoped would convince guests to consider financial investment in the West, was a great success. About one thousand people attended. They took the train to Rock Island and climbed aboard one of several steamboats to travel into Iowa, Wisconsin, and Minnesota Territory. The weather, apart from early thunderstorms and mugginess, was nearly perfect.

Within a short time the river party had made their way to St. Paul. Coming around the bend of the Mississippi to view the capital city, the passengers aboard the steamboats saw a place similar to their homes in the East. After seeing small communities along their route they now saw what would later be called the "New England to the West."

They reached the landing at St. Paul at eight o'clock in the morning on June 8 — a day earlier than they were expected to arrive. Within a short time they were greeted by a mob of carriages ready to take them on a tour of the area. The tour took the party in different directions, making stops at Lake Calhoun, Minnehaha Falls, the Falls of St. Anthony, Fountain Cave, and Fort Snelling. One of the highlights of the trip occurred at St. Anthony. The group performed a "mingling of the waters" ceremony, breaking a bottle filled with salt water carried from the Atlantic Ocean over a log to "mingle" it with the fresh waters of the Mississippi that flowed along the falls.

They met back at St. Paul at around seven o'clock in the evening. Upon their return they were treated to a grand reception ball at the State Capitol. Many of the city's elite citizens attended, including Henry Sibley and Governor Willis Gorman. Former President Millard Fillmore, a member of the touring party, thanked the hosts for their kindness and spoke highly of the promise of the area. Later that night the whistles from the steamboats blew and the tour began the trip back down the Mississippi.

Soon after the boats departed, newspapers around the country carried stories of the wonderful life that could be had in the West. Reporters wrote of the region's untold beauty and unmatched opportunity and promoted it as a place for immigrants to consider as a new home. Newspaper editor Horace Greeley wrote in the New York Tribune of the West as a prosperous place with a bright future.

By joining the Mississippi to the Atlantic the railroad united what had been considered two separate regions of the country. Travelers from the East could now travel to western territories in days instead of weeks. This change opened the West to additional immigration. The flood of immigrants that arrived to the territory gave Minnesota a large-enough population to qualify for statehood. On May 11, 1858, only four short years after the June 8 trip to St. Paul, Minnesota became the thirty-second state of the Union.

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William Lucas and the (Old) High Bridge

2014-04-03T16:45:00.001-05:00

(From the Jan 24, 1962 St. Paul Pioneer Press)

On January 22, 1962 William Lucas, a 25 year old bartender at Town House on University Avenue, was traveling south on Smith avenue when something went horribly wrong. As he was making his way toward the High Bridge - a drive he had probably made many times before without incident, his steering wheel locked up and his car veered immediately for the guard rail.

Before he could hit the brakes the car, traveling 30 MPH, broke through the protective railing and began a 75 foot end over end fall to the ground below. Lucas later described the experience like "clos(ing) your eyes in an elevator," there was nothing he could do. That's when, depending on your faith, something amazing, unbelievable, miraculous, crazy, etc. happened.

On its way toward an imminent collision with the ground below, the now upside down car hit two 2.5 inch thick cables running across telephone poles. The telephone cables acted as a rubber band, flipping the car the right direction and lessening the impact on the ground below.

Lucas's car, with its free fall broken by the cables, landed on the ground below with the front end sitting on the Chicago Great Western train tracks. Nearby railway switch-men raced to his aid, and stabilized him by taking the backseat cushion out of his car and laying him on it. Traffic was stopped in all directions due to onlookers getting out of their car to see what happened.

Soon after he was stabilized, an ambulance arrived and rushed him to Ancker Hospital. At the hospital Lucas was diagnosed with what the newspapers described as a "minor head injury." Bruised but not seriously hurt, he left after a two hour hospital stay - albeit against doctors orders.

Works Cited:

Jan 24, 1962 St. Paul Pioneer Press
Jan 24, 1962 St. Paul Dispatch

The Story of George "The Hot Dog Man" Weckman

2013-11-02T17:23:00.000-05:00

(image via Star Tribune)

George Weckman took advantage of a second chance to carve out a life as a fixture in downtown Saint Paul for nearly thirty years. The one-time prisoner, so afraid of leaving the penitentiary that he famously petitioned to have his parole overturned, was welcomed into the city with open arms. Soon after his release he built a business from the basement of the Oz Nightclub to become a mainstay at the corner of Rice Park. He went from obscurity to celebrity in a short time, from Inmate Weckman to George “The Hot Dog Man” Weckman - everyone in downtown knew the red-haired weightlifter with “The Hot Dog Man” cap on his head.

George grew up in southern Iowa, and had his first taste of Minnesota when he was moved to Sandstone Prison after getting into a fight in prison in Iowa. While in prison in the state he became an ordained minister and got certified in welding. In 1977, at the age of 27 and against his wishes he was released from the prison. After ten years of weight-lifting, the 5’4” Weckman could reportedly bench press 575 pounds and in less than a month after his release he was hired by Earl Montpetit to be a bouncer at the Oz Nightclub.

In 1979 George started selling hot dogs in the basement of the Oz. A chance occurrence with a Chicago man that had followed true love to the city brought George out of the basement and onto the streets of Saint Paul. The man, who had followed true love to Saint Paul, bought a hot dog stand with the intention of setting up shop in the city. It didn't work out for the Chicago man, and he planned to go back home to Chicago. George bought the stand and “The Hot Dog Man” was born.

After a couple of years of serenading the people that made their way past the Oz with cries of “(d)on’t be a meanie - buy your friend a weenie!” the city health inspector recommended that he set up his stand at Rice Park, because “Nobody’ll ever bother you there.” Soon after his arrival there two women from the health department gave him his trademark hat. George was at home in Rice Park and soon became as recognizable to the public as the buildings that surrounded it. He sold hot dogs to everyone that made their way into downtown, including Arnold Schwarzenegger and Bill Clinton (through the Secret Service).

George’s local celebrity landed him in a couple of movies. His cart can be found in The Mighty Ducks and he can be seen handing a hot dog to Schwarzenegger’s character Howard in Jingle All the Way. With the money from Jingle All the Way George was able to buy a new truck to haul him and his stand to work - he affectionately called it “the truck that Arnold bought.” He loved his work and was there as often as humanly possible, working up to sixteen hours a day as many as six days a week to make sure that the hungry people in downtown came to him to eat. George could even be found standing on folded cardboard and selling his $1 hot dog and $2 Polish “big one” in the cold winter months. He felt that the best way to build a business was to make sure that the public always knew he was there - and he was.

In 2008 George, now the owner of four carts, decided it was time to call it quits. He sold them to his long-time sidekick and protege Joe Keller, and went to live with his daughter in Red Wing until his death in 2009. George, would had come through hard times (which he recognized as his own doing) and was left standing on the other side, had become a hot dog man - a label that he wore proudly.

Works Cited:

Saint Paul Pioneer Press Dec 7, 2009
Saint Paul Pioneer Press July 11, 1997
Star Tribune Dec 5, 2009

A Capitol Question, a Combining of Twin Cities, and No Use For a Name

2013-10-29T20:19:00.000-05:00

(Merriam Park, 1886 - MNHS)

Minnesota’s first State Capitol building burned down in 1881, and its second was deemed too small for the growing state almost immediately after its completion in 1883. City leaders decided that they needed a new building to house their growing government, not just a serviceable structure but one reflective of the greatness of the State of Minnesota. One of the places touted for the new building was in the Midway area at Merriam Park. The men championing this move were none other than Archbishop John Ireland, James J. Hill, and William Merriam (though Merriam stayed significantly behind the scenes).

In the last half of the nineteenth century it was assumed that the Twin Cities of Minneapolis and Saint Paul would finally come together to form a “grand western metropolis”. The cities that were once located miles apart were now so close that their “street lamps meet at night”. It wasn't a question of whether or not the two cities would become a single great city, but a matter of when. All great cities need a capitol and the Merriam Park option offered location between the two “twins”, and would be a central hub for the yet to be formed new city.

Merriam donated twenty acres of land (presently across the street from the eighth hole at the Town and Country Club Golf Course), and Ireland began to pitch the benefits of the capitol move to citizens and city officials on both sides of the river. The land, deemed “Capitol Hill”, would become the center of the combined twin cities, a city Ireland proudly deemed “Paulapolis” - keeping parts of Saint Paul and Minneapolis while making them whole. The Empire Builder James J. Hill joined the capitol movement brigade, offering to build a new Union Depot in the area (along his Short Line tracks) if the capitol were to be built there.

City leaders in Saint Paul were not pleased with the plan floated by Ireland and HIll. While Merriam Park was indeed centrally located between the two cities (a "Midway"), it was far too underdeveloped, and too far away to ever be considered a viable alternative to downtown. In early 1893, the Senate Capitol Commission, appointed to help find a site for the new building, voted that it could be built no further than ¾ of a mile away from where the current one now sat. With that the dream of Ireland, Hill, and the people of the Midway area abruptly ended. Work would begin on the new State Capitol building (the current one at the current location) in 1896.

While Merriam Park would not become the thriving metropolis the group had hoped, the movement to make the twins into a single city would press on. Newspapers from coast to coast felt the move was destined to happen as soon as the two cities could agree on a new name. The combining of the two cities was down to a simple name change, considered by many to be a mere formality. Over the next 20+ years the local newspapers would continue to call the agreement pending and lambaste the city on the other side of the river (both Saint Paul and Minneapolis) about their reluctance to pick a suitable new identity. Each city seemed to want a prominent part of the new name, and was unwilling to lose their identity (or their name) in the change - so it never happened.

A list of some of the options presented:

Minneapaul

Minnepaul

Minnipaul

Paulapolis

Pauleopolis

Minneapola

Minnehaha

St. Appolis

Federal City

Lincoln - in honor of Abraham Lincoln

Dineapolis

Diapolis

Polarapolis - because it is cold (I guess?)

Minnesaintpaulapolis (my personal favorite)

Works Cited:

Saint Paul Daily Globe Feb 20, 1888

Saint Paul Daily Globe Jan 14, 1893

Saint Paul Daily Globe Sept 30, 1900

Bemidji Pioneer Oct 4, 1916

Roanoke Times July 22, 1891

Wichita Daily Eagle Jun 27, 1891

TPT Video Vault - St. Paul Past

The Funeral and Demolition of the Saint Paul High Bridge

2013-10-19T16:42:00.000-05:00

(Courtesy of the MNHS Digital Archives)

After years of safety concerns the Saint Paul High Bridge was officially retired on July 25, 1984 by the Transportation Department. It was deemed a risk to anyone traveling over it due in part to failed bearings, significant rust, and metal fatigue.

To honor the nearly one hundred year old structure, West Side residents and business owners decided to hold a funeral for it. Though not without faults (it vibrated in the wind and was constantly littered with potholes), the bridge was an important connection point between their community and Saint Paul. Not having that available to travelers could have significant financial ramifications. While the funeral would call attention to the loss of the old bridge, the group hoped it would highlight the need for a new bridge to quickly take its place.

Nearly one hundred residents, many wearing black arm bands, marched alongside a hearse followed closely behind by a solidarity drummer. Once they reached the middle point above the river a group of mourners walked over to the side of the bridge and threw flowers over into the sky. While the flowers floated to the ground, the Jonathan Padelford and Josiah Snelling, idling in the Mississippi below the bridge, let out simultaneous air horn blasts. The funeral procession continued toward the other end of the bridge and once the last person crossed a bugler standing nearby played “Taps”.

(Courtesy of MNHS)

Nearly seven months after the funeral took place the Saint Paul High Bridge was scheduled for demolition. Traditionally seen as the slowest shipping month on the river, bringing the bridge down in February made the most sense to maintain river traffic. At roughly 3:50 pm on Sunday Feb 24, 1985, nearly 76 pounds of explosives brought down the St. Paul High Bridge. The blast ended a 96 year-old history that spanned “from the horse-drawn carriage to the contemporary commuter.”

The bridge, held together by pins and metal eyebars, was built in 1888-89 at the then astronomical cost of $480,000. Considered to be a monumental mistake at the time, nearly every politician that backed its building were soon after voted out of office (including Mayor Robert Smith). It served the community well for 96 years (minus a couple of hiccups), spanning from “horse drawn carriage to the contemporary commuter” but now needed to be replaced. At around 3:50 PM on Sunday February 24, 1985, nearly seventy six pounds of explosives ended the storied history of the bridge in roughly 3.5 seconds blast that “cut” it into sections that fell to the ground below.

Upwards of 30,000 people came out in the mid-30s temperature to see the momentous event scheduled to begin at (high) noon. A near four hour delay due to problems with wiring on the south side of the bridge saw a good portion of the crowd disperse - but among the remaining spectators the excitement of the moment never waned. Emotions in the crowd were mixed, some looking forward to an updated bridge to replace the one that had been deemed unsafe many years before, while others lamented the loss of such a historic monument - considering the moment the “death of a friend.”

(Courtesy of MNHS)

Construction of a new $19.6 million dollar High Bridge would begin in the summer and be open for traffic in November of 1987.

Channel Four news coverage of the demolition (via Youtube)

Works Cited:

Pioneer Press July 25, 1984

Pioneer Press Feb 25,1985

St. Paul's High Bridge, 1889-1985: a photo-essay of the history of a St. Paul landmark..
Oakdale, Minn.: Minnesota Dept. of Transportation, District Nine, 1985.

Rules to Dance By: Don't Shake the Shimmy

2013-10-04T16:21:00.001-05:00

(image via Photobucket)

The 1920s were a time of great change in the United States. Young people throughout the country began to move away from the social norms of their parents and embrace the freedom of modern culture - complete with automobiles, “talkies”, and the provocative rhythms of jazz music. It was a nationwide party hosted by the young people of America, one that the old guard had trouble getting on board with.

In late October of 1919, in response to concerns submitted to him by local police women investigating dance halls throughout the Saint Paul area, Police Chief John O’Connor instituted a set of four rules concerning what he called the “shimmy”, saying that “(i)f they shake the shimmy the way I hear they do I wonder that the safety pins and buttons hold.” Feeling that “conditions as reported must be altered”, the 65 year old O’Connor ruled that (these are his rules as reported):

Rule One: Dancers must keep moving, and not stand still on the floor and “shake the shimmy”.

Rule Two: Neither shall they wiggle like a snake while turning the corners of the dance floor or when they turn around.

Rule Three: They must not raise their hands above their heads. Calisthenics are out of place on a dance floor.

Rule Four: They must not rub cheeks; that is dance cheek to cheek.

O’Connor felt that dancing cheek to cheek “may be alright” on its own if the dancers would stop there, but understood “that it is only necessary to turn the head a little and the lips meet.”

He believed that those types of conditions should not exist, especially on a dance floor.

While the “Big Fella” was used to getting his way, there was no stopping the change that was taking place. O’Connor retired in 1920 (unrelated to this of course - he was just old) and the twenties went on to become “roaring”.

Works Cited:

Oct 24, 1919 Little Falls Transcript

The Proposal to Make Minneapolis a Capitol City

2013-09-18T08:24:00.000-05:00

(Image courtesy of MNHS Visual Archives)

On the evening of March 25, 1895 the state legislature convened to a joint session meeting in the capitol building (then on 10th and Wacouta) to hear arguments and discuss the potential merits of moving it from its current home in Saint Paul to a new location at Loring Park in Minneapolis. Representing the “Flour City” in the meeting were “three sharp and shrewd lawyers”, Judge Fisch (Fish), Emanuel Cohen, and C.J. Rockwood. In opposition, as part of the contingent looking to keep the capitol in Saint Paul, was Judge Charles E. Flandrau.

Flandrau felt that the city of Minneapolis didn’t have the authority to donate public land to the state - and that they had yet to offer proof of free and clear ownership of Loring Park (which he stated was nonetheless designated for strictly park use). He considered the idea of moving the capitol absurd and stated that when the area's forefathers got together they designated certain allotments to different cities in an effort to give each a share of the “governmental patronage”. This agreement called for the capitol to be in Saint Paul, the university at Saint Anthony Falls, as well as a penitentiary in Stillwater. He stressed that Minneapolis had “enjoyed the fruits of the compact” in receiving over 4 million dollars in aid to sustain the university.

Judge Flandrau maintained that Minneapolis was turning their back on agreements set many years ago and now wanted to see everything of importance “raked into” the city. He stressed that if officials were to allow this move, the body should expect Minneapolis to look to move the Stillwater Penitentiary in the next session. Flandrau told them to make the change if they want to, but if they did they should expect them to “never afterward have a good night’s rest and a good square conscience.” He felt that the group had no moral right to move the capitol, but if allowed it would be just as honorable for the city of Saint Paul to offer Como Park as a new home for the university.

The Minneapolis group felt that the folksy Flandrau wasn’t recognizing the facts as they were being presented and instead was too busy recalling agreements from the good old days - days that had long since passed. Cohen reminded the legislators that they were not called together to decide “matters of fact in times too remote for accurate memory,” but rather the law in front of them. The group believed that “(n)o sound business policy can be built upon the foundation of sentimental rhapsodies and reckless remembrances of old timers.” They felt that it wasn't a personal slight, but the fact remained that their location, deemed “second to none of beauty in this country” was a better option than the “few acres of sand hill” in Saint Paul. They agreed that the university received aid, but felt that any money given to the state institution was of benefit to the entire state (not just the city of Minneapolis).

The major sticking point throughout the process was the ownership of the land at Loring Park. Minneapolis admitted to the judiciary committee that the thirty eight acres that comprised the park was indeed mortgaged for roughly 750 thousand dollars. The group knew that due to the attached debt it couldn’t simply give the title to the state - but they believed that it was within the power of the legislature to coerce them to do so. Flandrau wondered aloud if they were seriously considering land with such a significant lien attached to it. He was concerned that the Government officials would be evicted from the building if the debts couldn’t be paid and envisioned scenarios of public officials being beholden to private interests because of it. In the end it was determined by a judiciary committee that the debt would keep the land from being transferred.

Based on this fact the idea was eventually voted down. The Hennepin Delegation decided to abide by the decision and the matter was closed.

Works Cited:

Saint Paul Daily Globe Mar 10, 25-27, 30, 1895

Minneapolis Tribune March 25, 27, 30, 1895

Princeton Union April 4, 1895

Saint Paul Daily News Jan 17, 1934

The First Car to Ever Grace the Streets of Saint Paul

2013-08-14T22:42:00.001-05:00

(1899 Winton - image via Wikipedia)

Dr. I.F. Siqveland is believed to be the owner of the first automobile to drive on the streets of Saint Paul. In 1899 the good doctor purchased a “One Lung Winton” gasoline powered car to take him on trips from his home in Bald Eagle to his offices in the downtown area. The car, produced in Cleveland, Ohio by Alexander Winton was one of over a hundred sold in the United States that year, making the handmade Winton the largest manufacturer of gasoline powered cars in the country at that time.

The “horseless carriage” was a one-cylinder beauty (possibly where the “one-lung” moniker came from) that cost $1250 dollars (worth roughly $35,000 today). The trunkless two seater with the wood frame was just over one hundred inches long and approached a top speed of nearly twenty miles per hour (on a flat stretch of road). Dry batteries were used to start the engine from a current created by a two and a half foot crank located in the front of the car. Once moving, the two speed transmission is engaged by a clutch and two separate levers, one used for lower speeds and a second for high. There were no headlights or brakes.

According to tales later told by the doctor the car was initially not very popular with the horse crowd. It was said that you could hear the engine of the Winton, which was eloquently described as sounding like "the world's loudest smoker's cough", firing from up to a half mile away. Once the car got rolling it wasn't any quieter as it lumbered down the road. It was already a strange sight for the people of the area and the incredible noise was not making Dr. Siqveland any new friends.

One day while driving by a local horse camp the doctor was stopped by two large hay bales in the road. His path had been blocked by the owners of the camp, who didn't like their horses being spooked every time he drove by. They decided they were going to do something about it.

The owners, along with a large group of their friends, told the doctor that they were going to push his car into the nearby swamp - solving the problem of the loud noises frightening their horses. Dr. Siqveland, as the owner of the car, didn't think this was a fair action and offered to shoot anyone that tried “with (a) machine gun, which I have special permission from the government to carry” that he said he had sitting in his car. Needless to say the men cleared the road and never came between the doctor and his destination again.

Works Cited:

Feb 1 1920 issue of the Pioneer Press

Famous but Forgotten - http://wintonhistory.com/pages/article.html

The Early History of Smith Park (Mears Park) 1849-1890

2013-08-03T20:25:00.002-05:00

(Smith Park in 1907 via MNHS Collections)

The long history of the park now known affectionately as Mears Park begins on July 24, 1849 when land owners Robert Smith and Cornelius Whitney passed the plat of land known as the Whitney & Smith Addition to the public (there was no formal city of Saint Paul at this point). The park, known a short time later as Smith Park was occupied by squatters until 1872 and shortly after became the first workhouse for the city. Vagrants and other law breakers would be taken to Smith Park to break rocks until their sentences were up (most serving less than fifteen days).

When the land was handed over, the expectation was that it would be turned into a public park. In early September 1880, residents of Lowertown (then known as lower town) called for the city to live up to the agreement it entered into many years ago. They felt that the land had become nothing more than a “rock pile” and demanded that it be graded to clear way for a park and the excess dirt be used for “filling the railroad flats”. City officials and citizens agreed that it had fallen into “disgraceful condition” and should be considered nothing more than “a common receptacle for all kinds of filth, until the stench of its rottenness (had) become rank and smell(ed) to high heaven.”

It fell into such terrible condition that in 1881 Sarah and Rosabel Whitney, the surviving heirs of landowner Cornelius Whitney, felt that they needed to get involved. The two believed that the city had failed to provide the public “a beautiful and healthful...park”, and that the generosity of Mr. Whitney had been abused. It was supposed to be a place enjoyed by families, instead of the “occupancy of convicted criminals” it had been allowed to become. They claimed the city’s wanton disregard for the agreement entered into in 1849 gave them a legal reason to begin a fight to reclaim the land.

Obviously the political leadership of the city disagreed with their assessment, but nonetheless in January of 1882 called for the grading of the park and that police “cause all nuisances to be removed...without delay.” However, by June of the same year no work had begun to renovate the land. Mayor Edmund Rice joined the cause of those that wanted to see a park, hoping that the grading would open up a “breathing place..of an inestimable value” for the people of the growing city.

A week later an idea was announced that seemed to have some merit. The park officials would look to “several of the old settlers and wealthy men” of the city to take part in finally delivering a park worthy of the people. The plan was to have each of the prominent citizens in the city plant a tree in the park in honor of their family - a memorial to the great people that took part in the early life of Saint Paul. While it seemed that many of the city’s elite were for it, the idea never came to be.

By the end of the year the park had been untouched and the city began discussing the steps they would have to take to sell the land. Due to the incredible growth of wholesale businesses in the area, they felt that Smith Park was “unsuitable as a park” and would be of better use if it was sold and another warehouse was put up on the land. The money the city would get from the sale could be used to buy other parks in the areas surrounding downtown as well as improve those that already existed. The concerns of the city were in part due to the hours of the businesses in the area of the park. Those businesses closed at 6 pm, and because it was so close to the railroads and incredibly dark at night the park was doing nothing more than attracting the wrong element. It was safer to let the park go than try and improve it.

In February of 1884 a judge ruled that the land belonged to the city. Although they still weren’t sure if they were legally allowed to do it, by April conversations about selling the land started to heat up. Mr. Lindeke (no first name listed - most likely was William) believed that the city owned the land and should be able to do whatever they wanted. He felt that a park was bad for the area because “businessmen...go there for business, not for the purpose of sitting down in a park and enjoying themselves.” In its current condition it was a disgrace to the city, scattered with “all sorts of trash and refuse matter” as well as “night tramps and other outcasts” spending time there. Lindeke believed that they should sell it and use the money to buy “all the parks we want.”

Thankfully, that never came to be. By the middle of 1885 the city finally finished grading the park and began taking the next steps of adding trees, a walkway, and a “water basin containing ornamental rock work with flowing water.” By 1886, nearly forty years after the land was handed over to the city the beautiful park was finally in place. It was enough of a success that shortly after its finish it was considered as a potential home for the ice palace to be built on for the upcoming inaugural Winter Carnival.

Works Cited:

Sept 9, 1880 Daily Globe

Sept. 2, 1881 Daily Globe

Sept 11, 1881 Daily Globe

Jan 20, 1882 Daily Globe

Jun 23, 1882 Daily Globe

Jun 29, 1882 Daily Globe

Dec 31, 1882 Daily Globe

Feb 16, 1884 Daily Globe

April 8, 1884 Daily Globe
May 24, 1885 Daily Globe

The Trial of Jacob Schmidt

2013-07-27T12:08:00.000-05:00

(photo of the brewery courtesy of MNHS Collection)

On July 4, 1893, shortly before 6pm, friends Thomas Beaudoin and Sam Guion, after a short trip across the river to shoot pigeons, were standing on the railroad tracks just down the hill from the North Star Brewery when three shots from a rifle rang out (later stories say it was five), one striking Mr. Beaudoin in the “left breast” - passing through his left lung. The two men were positive that the man that shot at them was none other than thirty eight year old Jacob Schmidt, part owner of the brewery and soon to be owner of a new one that would bear his name.

After being struck by the bullet, Guion took Beaudoin across the river to his home and contacted the police. He reported to them that the man that shot at them was wearing a pink shirt and he was “positive that the man that did the shooting was Schmidt.” The officers soon after went to arrest Mr. Schmidt. When they reached him at his home near the brewery he was wearing a shirt that matched the description given by the two men. After changing his shirt, he was taken to Guion’s house where he was identified by Beaudoin as the shooter and subsequently arrested by officers who “found no other alternative” but to charge him with assault with a deadly weapon.

Arrested and put in jail, Schmidt denied all knowledge of the shooting and offered an alibi that he felt would prove his innocence. Bail was set at $5,000 (equivalent to nearly $126,000 in 2013), which was promptly paid and Mr. Schmidt was released. Schmidt soon after claimed he was in his office that day from two o’clock until well after six, and until officers came for him at his home, he had no idea of the shooting his accusers claimed took place from the roof of the Malt House.

He said that he spent the day in his office playing cards with three other men - and that each of them could corroborate his story. He added that he didn’t own a rifle (the type of gun that was fired), only two shotguns. His lawyer, D.F. Peebles, added that it was customary at the time for many people in the area to fire shots from their guns into the air to celebrate the Independence Day holiday. If someone were to be shot due to this innocent act of celebration, it wouldn’t take much to prove that it was an accident.

Mr. Beaudoin, who shortly after the shooting was said to be on Death’s door would end up spending fourteen days in the hospital, but would eventually recover. He would go from quickly being interviewed by police before his stay in the hospital (because police authorities weren’t certain that he would survive), to being harnessed to his bed for four days after becoming delirious with pleurisy, to a full recovery in time to be a witness for the trial of Mr. Schmidt on July, 28, 1893.

After being held over on a couple of occasions due to the health of Mr. Beaudoin, the case was tried before Judge Cory in police court. Beaudoin testified that he and Guion went to the land near the brewery minding their own business and were shot by Schmidt from the roof of the Malt House - roughly a distance of 400 feet away. He was positive that Schmidt was the man that shot at them and that he did so unprovoked. Schmidt, described as “a quiet and peaceable citizen” countered in testimony alongside the men he claimed to play cards at the time of the shooting (they were playing euchre) that he couldn’t have been there. The game started at 2:30pm and was finished well after the supposed 6pm shooting.

The Judge, in light of the evidence of an alibi, dismissed the charges and Schmidt was free to go.

Works Cited:

July 5-6,12,16, 29, 1893 issues of the St. Paul Daily Globe

October 15, 1889: The Grand Opening of the Pioneer Press Building

2013-07-03T13:49:00.000-05:00

(Image courtesy of the MNHS Collections)

The Pioneer Press Building, more recently known as the Pioneer (one half of the Pioneer-Endicott duo) opened for occupancy on October 15, 1889. Considered by the paper at its opening to be the “most magnificent newspaper building in the world” (while recognizing that they were prone to what others would describe as “unwarranted superlatives”), the twelve floor - thirteen story structure was the tallest building located west of Chicago (and remained so until 1915), towering above the other buildings in downtown Saint Paul “like a giant among pygmies”. Located in the center of the city on the corner of Fourth and Robert streets, the owners of the building felt that “the business men of Saint Paul appreciate(d) a good thing” and they looked to provide it for them by offering amenities that couldn't be found in other buildings in the West. The Pioneer boasted a building that was “entirely and absolutely fire proof” with “elevators (that) run night and day the year round”. The “perfectly lighted and ventilated” building was said to be the “most perfectly equipped, elegant, and convenient building of its kind”.

Designed by architect Solon Spencer (S.S.) Beman, the Romanesque Revival style building was thought to be “simple in design, gigantic in proportion and elegant in execution”. Taking nearly two years to build, it was considered the preeminent structure of its class. Because of concerns over the size and weight of the proposed building, extra precautions were made well before the foundation was laid. The Pioneer Press building sits on six hundred pylons underneath a foundation of heavy concrete (up to ten feet in depth in some parts), in order to “prevent Mother Earth from yielding beneath the immense burden … placed upon her”. The foundation was then laid on this reinforced land. The first two stories of the building were built using massive blocks of granite from nearby Saint Cloud, with the rest of the structure being dark shaded pressed brick.

LIghting was provided by gigantic windows adorning the structure and bolstered by “two 100-horsepower engines, each running two dynamos with a capacity of 500 sixteen-candle power lights each”. The eleventh and twelfth floors were lit via switchboard while the first through ten floors offered separate lighting for each room. The woodwork of the building was antique oak, which at the opening of the building glistened from the substantial polishing and the inside boasted beautifully ornate marble corridors. Ventilation was provided by a thirty-six square foot shaft that furnished additional light and air for the entire building. The glass windowed elevators flashed up and down at a rate of three hundred feet per minute.

All of the offices on the first ten floors (the building had twenty per floor) offered electric lamps, closets, access to lavatories, hot and cold water, fireplaces to brighten a cold and dreary day, and a mailing chute. The top two floors were the home of the Pioneer Press workforce. Located on the eleventh floor was the quarters of the editorial staff as well as the groups that cast the mold for the printing press. Plates made in a separate stereotyping room with paved floors so that “no molten metal or stray cinder can cause an annoying, though ineffective blaze”. Along the Fourth street side of the building stood the offices of the various editors of the paper, connected so that someone could pass through each of them without having to enter the connecting corridor. The twelfth floor was home to the compositors, the people that arranged the type to be printed for new issues of the paper. It had a twenty five foot ceiling and a nearby lunch room. Breaks were made more enjoyable by adjoining reading and smoking rooms as well as an editorial club room that offered “books, pictures, and a billiards table”. The first issue of the paper composed and delivered from the new building was on October 31, 1889.

Those that had the opportunity to spend time in the Pioneer, boldly called “one of the greatest structures of modern times”, felt like they had been a visitor to a new world - a bustling indoor metropolis. The Pioneer Press professed their confidence in what they were sure was to be a growing city and built a beautiful building at its center as an act of that faith. People came from all corners to see firsthand one of the largest buildings ever built to that point and to behold what could only have been considered to be a marvel. It was such an exciting time for the city that 40,000 people came out to take part in the grand opening of the building - nearly one-third of the population of Saint Paul. Throughout the years, many firsts would be recognized from inside the doors of the Pioneer building; first commercial broadcast station in MN, first glass walled elevators, and first commercial telephone service (for which the building is adorned with a plaque.

Four additional floors were added to the building in 1910, making the total structure a grand total of sixteen stories high. In 1941 the Pioneer Press building was connected to the Endicott Building (built next door in 1890) to become what is commonly known as the Pioneer-Endicott. Years later, on July 10, 1974 they were added to the National Register of Historic Places. More recently the building(s) has come under the ownership of Saint Paul based PAK Properties, who are renovating the historic structures and developing a mixed use building complete with restaurants, a bar, a health club, museum, wine store and two hundred and thirty four luxury apartments. The first tenants are anticipated to move in May 2014.

Works Cited:

Saint Paul and Minneapolis Pioneer Press Oct 1, 1889 - Oct 31, 1889