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Click here to listen to episode 14.

It's autumn at the Woodlake Wildlife Nature Center in Richfield, Minnesota.  Seven year old Jojo and I take a nature hike and he explains big birds to me.

My friend, Melanie, and I visit the Nicolin Mansion Bed & Breakfast in Jordan, MN.

We stop at Dreamy Hill Trails at the Minnesota Harvest Orchard along old Highway 169.

We end the show with part two of our interview with Brian Szott, Fine Arts Curator for the Minnesota Historical Society.  Brian tells us about the WPA arts project from the Great Depression in the 1930's.

Guest Post by Patrick Moore www.cureriver.org

 

 

CURE Country is getting all excited for the Meander -- the Upper MN River Arts Crawl that is being held along the river from Granite Falls to Ortonville the weekend of Oct. 2, 3 & 4th. 

This is a great weekend to explore the rich culture and beauty of the region.  

We have some new blog posts on the CURE web site.  Check out Duane Ninneman's Energy Matrix post and look for more to come from him as we enter into a new and exciting era for community based renewable energy development in the region.   
 
There is an article summarizing CURE's position beyond Big Stone II in this week's web version of the Granite Falls Advocate Tribune. 

I saw them again. This time in my very own apartment house lobby wearing purple outfits and red hats. They were waiting for a ride to The Civic Theater in Bloomington, Minnesota to go seeThoroughly Modern Millie.  It was the Red Hat Society women. 

Oh, how they frighten me.  Don't get me wrong, they are perfectly adorable.  But, niggling in the back of my mind is the thought that my friend, Melanie, will, in a few years, start nagging me to join them.  I can just see us driving around Minnesota on our little jaunts with our big red hats and our purple jump-suits or peddle-pushers, or whatever, and people will smile at us.  I don't really want to be noticed.

One time I drove out to visit Melanie and Crabby Dave and they wouldn't leave me alone until I put on this vintage hat, glamorous sunglasses, and fur-piece that Melanie had picked up at some odd shop somewhere.  And then!  They took a picture of me and laughed.  What in the world? 

So you can appreciate my reservation when I see this group of happy women enjoying themselves as they wait for some excursion together.  It's terrifying.

I  wish when my friend, Melanie, and I visited the historic Commodore Hotel in Saint Paul, Minnesota recently, that I would have done my homework first.  I thought it was enough for me that the writer F. Scott Fitzgerald lived there with his colorful wife, Zelda who defined the flapper standard during the roaring 20's.

 According to an article by Steve Lange published on the Rochester Magazine website:

The Fitzgeralds attended parties at the swank University Club (420 Summit). They rented a house at White Bear Lake, then got evicted when the water pipes burst after an all-night winter party. 

After the eviction, the Fitzgeralds moved into the Commodore Hotel (79 Western Avenue North), a stylish spot for the coat-and-tie crowd. The Commodore billed itself as “A high class Residential Service that features, among other things, the ‘Homelike spirit’ and a location in the most aristocratic and quiet section of the city.”

“In the fall of the year we got to the Commodore in St. Paul,” Fitzgerald wrote, “and while leaves blew up the street we waited for our child to be born.”

But there is so much more to the Commodore and its status in the 1920's. 

While researching the hotel, I came across an article written by Tim Brady and published in Minnesota Monthly Magazine, April 2007, entitled Crime Capital.  It refers to a part of the city's past that some may not care to talk about, but which I found fascinating.  Saint Paul was a gangster-friendly community. 

 The agreement with the local police was that the cops wouldn't bother the crooks, as long as the crooks didn't bother the residents of Saint Paul.  And one of their favorite watering holes was the art deco lounge at the Commodore.

Unfortunately, the arrangement with the police didn't always work.  My late uncle Gerald, a marvelous story teller with a laugh the size of a small town, was in Saint Paul the day the Ma Barker Gang robbed the payroll at the Post Office and officer Leo Pavlak was killed.  Old uncle Gerald could spin a good yarn.

But wait, there's more!

 I've decided sometimes it's good to pay attention.  Earlier in the week, Melanie and I had visited with Brian Szott, fine arts curator for the Minnesota Historical Society in Saint Paul, and he had mentioned the acquisition of a substantial number of paintings from the WPA  Arts Project painted during the depression.  Imagine our surprise when we found one hanging on the wall of the Commodore!  Unfortunately I don't have the details in terms of who painted it or the exact year, because I didn't pay that much attention.  But if it hadn't been for our visit at the MHS, we would never have been able to appreciate the work like we did.

Bottom line, after we left the Commodore, Melanie and I thought we were really something.  Well, we are.  Just ask us.

I tend to judge a book by its cover.  I do.  If the color is too bright, or too dark, I tend to leave it on the shelf.  On the other hand, if I see a book with a vintage photo on the cover, I am likely to pick it up.  If that vintage photo features folks from Minnesota, I am likely to have a hard time putting it down.  That was my experience when I saw Historic Photos of Minnesota by writer and documentary filmmaker Susan Marks.  The cover is a photo of young women from the University of Minnesota playing hockey - badly.  It's fun and lighthearted. 

O.K.   Here's why you can't judge a book by its cover.  I snuggled into bed with my new book expecting a lighthearted account of the history of our state.  But, history isn't lighthearted!  Just pages into the book, I found myself staring at the shell-shocked expressions on the faces of women and children caught in the aftermath of the Dakota conflict of 1862.   Another turn of the page and I came upon the concentration camp where the Dakota were detained after the conflict.  It's a beautiful photo of tepees settled in a mist on the Minnesota River beneath Fort Snelling.  The ethereal setting is deceiving.

Marks has divided the book into five eras beginning with the settlement of Europeans and working its way through the development of infrastructure and the discovery of natural resources, through the roaring twenties, the great depression, a couple of wars and on to the present.  It's clear Marks took her time collecting a balanced group of photos reflecting women and children in our state story, as well as men. 

Vintage Photo Hanging in the Commodore Hotel Dining Room in Saint Paul. (Not in the book)

Oh, there are fun photos to be sure in this 200 page book.  One photo of ice being harvested for storage reminded me of this old guy I knew back in Wabasso, Minnesota.  He said he used to help harvest ice from Daub's lake, a small body of water on the southern edge of my parent's farm.  He said at the end of a long night of drinking at the local bar, it wasn't unusual to be staring into a drink and have a minnow staring back at you.

An hour and a half past my bedtime, I closed my book.  Satisfied.  I can't wait to show this book to my old dad.  He's going to love it!

Cover from the program of an exhibit of Kramer paintings hosted at SSU, Marshall

On Episode 13, Melanie and I deliver a painting by Arnold Kramer, also known as Minnesota's Grandpa Moses, to the Minnesota Historical Society where we get a chance to interview Fine Arts Curator, Brian Szott.

This episode include the first part of the interview about the evolution of art in Minnesota.  This is a much more fascinating story than I had imagined.  We find out that the creators of the Minnesota Historical Society's collection of artwork are as interesting as their work.

Music by Edward Klamm of Minneapolis, and Rick Jensen who grew up in Wabasso, Minnesota, the same rural community Arnold Kramer painted in.

Click here to listen.

Temperance Poster from the late 1800's,

Ah, the battle of the bottle, or the bulge, or the one-armed bandit, or  . . .  

I've been in recovery for over 15 years and I have the privilege of living in a state that is one of the most recovery-friendly in the nation.  We've got treatment centers, like Hazelden, which have served addicts from around the country.  There is a huge community of grateful folks in recovery from alcohol, drugs, over-eating, co-dependency, shopping, gambling - oh gosh, all kinds of things that we recovered from by belonging to a group and supporting one another.  It's a program of we.

The former John Washburn Family Estate on 1st Avenue South in Minneapolis, now affectionately referred to as simply 2218, could just as well be the address of a hospital, for all the lives it has saved.  My friend, Angie, and I heard there were going to be some old-timers speaking there one Saturday afternoon recently, so we slid into the back row at the meeting to hear their stories.  We started to understand that the twelve-step program didn't start out on an even keel and it took a lot of mis-steps and give and take before it became the model of recovery it is today.

I didn't really know what to expect, but you can imagine our delight when we found that areas of this grand old home have been preserved and retain the luster of a by-gone era.  Now you're talking.

A portrait B. Patrick Cronin, one of the founders of the Alano Society 

I stood in awe, soaking up the spirit of 2218, thanking my Higher Power for providing a place where flawed individuals like myself can learn coping skills and experience enormous spiritual growth by following the examples of others.   My biggest lesson from the twelve steps?  Oh, I don't know.  Maybe that other people think my blunders are pretty funny, and sharing them can get a good laugh.  And,  I'll never have to worry about running out of material!  Click here for information about recovery in Minnesota.

My fellow folk blogger, Audrey Kletcsher Helbling, came to the rescue today.  (No that's not her in the photo).  After posting an article about the Hermann Monument this morning without actually posting a photo of it, Audrey saw my dilemma and sent me an email with a variety to choose from.  Thank you Audrey.  It's nice to know you've got my back. (Insert high-five here.)

While Melanie and I were interviewing Terry Sveine, Manager of the New Ulm CVB, we got to hear the history of why Hermann has a huge monument in New Ulm, Minnesota and why his memory will be commemorated by the community on the weekend of September 18th. 

Alas, the interview was lost due to operator error, but I was able to snap a few photos showing preparation for this event.  On special occasions, when I was a little kid, my parents would load up the old green station wagon with us kids and haul us to New Ulm, singing all the way.  I've Been Working on the Railroad and It Ain't Gonna Rain No More, No More. . .

Anyway, we always stopped at the Hermann Monument, Hermann's Heights my dad called it, and we'd wear ourselves out climbing to the top of this incredibly huge monument.  I suppose my folks wanted us good and worn-out for the long trip home.

I feel bad that I didn't get a photo of the monument, itself, but New Ulm has so many places to visit, Melanie and I ended up burning daylight faster than we intended.  We have no option but to come back.  And maybe this time I can get an interview with Terry that will actually air on Minnesota Country Mouse Radio.  This guy knows a lot of stuff!

Polis on facebook

 Midwest Mix Magazine is carrying a feature article about an up-and-coming band from New Ulm, Minnesota. Melanie and I heard about them when we were visiting their fair community.  These guys are good!  It's worth registering with facebook to hear the song, No Point in Sleeping. 

The September/October edition of Midwest Mix Magazine is now online and on magazine stands across southern Minnesota.

On our way out of town, after a great visit at Viegel's Kaiserhoff with the New Ulm CVB manager, Terry Sveine, Melanie and I came upon an unexpected treat.  We were winding our way through the streets of New Ulm, somewhat reluctant to leave, when Melanie urged me to grab my camera.

  She saw them before I did.  A team of big ol' dapple-gray horses backing a white carriage into a carriage house which was located in a neighborhood with big, fine, vintage houses and trees settled comfortably on the edge of the river valley.  They were far less impressed with me than I was with them.

When I got back in the car and we rounded the corner, we found that the carriage house belonged to The Bohemian, a bed and breakfast.  Well, that's just perfect. 

What a great place for a wedding or other celebration that would include a ride in a stately white carriage pulled by a team of lovely horses around a neighborhood that just plain feels good!