Lost Minneapolis - Skid Row

I did not grow up here in Minneapolis but by 1980 I was living in an inner city neighborhood and I had a steady job downtown. I  was working at 250 Marquette, I saw no vestiges of the old business area, the skid row hotels, bars, or the old Gateway Park. It had all been wiped clean before I arrived. There is barely a trace left of this portion of the city which was once the heart of the Minneapolis business district. I became curious about this lost area focusing on photos from the area around Marquette and Washington avenues. I read stories of buildings lost to the widespread demolition of this area, most of which was already gone long before I arrived in town and wiped clean. Modern Architecture taking over and spreading for many blocks going towards the river. 

Good Bye Skid Row - City Demolishes 17 Square Blocks

In the late 1950's, the city planners in an effort to "clean up" the "embarrassment" of what had become a very large skid row, created a major redevelopment design for the downtown business district. Buildings began to disappear around 1959 and it is estimated that about 40% of the city's central business district or 17 square blocks of aging structures were leveled to make way for a cleaner and more modern downtown. I keep reading this over. It's just crazy! 17 square blocks!

Washington Avenue & Marquette Avenue late 1950's

Gateway Pavilion 1950s

$1.25 Weekly Rate - Pioneer Hotel

Hello Modern -  Washington and Marquette Avenue

Today the intersection of Marquette and Washington is marked by some well designed modern architecture. The architect, Minoru Yamasaki designed a complex of three buildings which all include  simplified Gothic forms, grand plazas and water features. The building at 20 Washington is one of my favorite buildings in Minneapolis. I spent a lot of time there over the years sitting near the reflecting pools. It was so peaceful and no one was ever there. This building was originally set to be the centerpiece of the new Gateway District. It opened in 1965. It deserves a close look. It is stunning modern architecture.I knew it as the North Western National Life Building but it has had several name changes over the years.

20 Washington Avenue - Architect: Minouru Yamasaki

The architect Gunnar Birkerts designed the original 250 Marquette. It opened in 1975 and was a building I worked in for many years. It was an architectural modern wonder and I had studied about it in Art History classes when I was at University. It has since had a major renovation due to costly asbestos abatement and a mold problem in the suspension cable enclosures. It is still an amazing building with a much appreciated green space on it's plaza.

250 Marquette Avenue 1982

What Happened to Gateway Park?

The Gateway Park was near the Nicollet Hotel but it was also near Skid Row, all of which were included in the demolitions. The Flag pole isn't particularly interesting but it somehow survived and is all that is left. It was originally at the convergence of Nicollet and Hennepin Avenues.  It was later moved out-of-the-way of a Hennepin Avenue redesign when the new Hennepin Bridge was built in 1990 . It is now completely dwarfed by the adjacent buildings and the multi-lane intersection at the Hennepin Avenue Bridge site.

Gateway Park Flag Pole - Long Ago

The Andrews Hotel - circa 1981

By the time I started working in this area around 1980, about the only thing I remember that was still there was the Andrews Hotel. I often wandered through the lobby, curious about this tired old place and the old men sitting around. Maybe we bought cigarettes and liquor from the lobby liquor store or stopped into the coffee shop.

I usually envisioned that it was once a grand hotel but further investigation tells me that it was never grand. It was known as a solid hotel for business travelers at some point and it somehow, survived all the demolition in this area during the 1960's. By the 1970's it was known more as a flop house and was designated for use as transitional housing for veterans and homeless individuals.  It was built in 1911 and imploded on a cold Sunday morning in 1984. That I remember. Sadly the entire block it sat on has remained a parking lot ever since.

The Andrews Hotel

Well, what got all my curiosity going was a film that was at the Hennepin History Museum Skid Row exhibit. I didn't have time to watch it when I was there, but they had the URL to locate it online. I watched it the following day and the film sent me down a bit of a worm hole and then the journey of this post.

The film was made in the late 1950's by John Bacich who later provided narration over it sometime in the mid 1980's and the film has been newly digitized.  It provides a gritty and candid record of the Minneapolis Gateway District. It runs about 30 minutes. Use this link to The King of Skid Row and select Skidrow Film from the website menu.

pres·er·va·tion               prezərˈvāSH(ə)n/

noun - the action of preserving something

synonyms: conservation, protection, perpetuation

We would love to hear any memories you have of this area. You can list them in the comments below.

Faded Frescos - Playa del Carmen, Mexico

It has been a year since we were last here In Playa del Carmen (PDC). Just as the faded frescos display hints of old signs, new construction makes way for new dreams. On side streets rooftops transform to new lodgings. On the Quinta, (main tourists street), a sparkling white nightmare of a shopping mall is bathed in white lights which illuminate and dwarf the remnants of old, long standing shops and the beautiful little Calle Corazon is only a memory. We have not seen the street cart man that sells the churros near the square. We have not seen the old twin ladies that stand in the doorway at a podium offering massage. We witness Sunday night mass on loud speakers coming from the little chapel with worshipers spilling into the street. We walk by the fruit ladies (and men) who have been in the same spot for as long as I can remember. We stumble upon transplanted punk rock fire dancers, native drums, annoying pan flutes, dancers and showmen in native dress, falling and spinning from a high tower in the square. They pass a beautiful hat around for those watching to fill with spare coins. We are more intrigued by the early morning peddle carts transporting loved ones and products for delivery. We search for beautifully embellished delivery trucks with hand painted signs or corrugated shiny metal toppers. From our window we watch the man chopping cabbages every morning for use at a nearby antojitos stand. We watch men sift through the endless collection of metal to take the best pieces to scrap for pesos. We watch a painter precariously perched from some home made wood scaffolding hanging from a 4th floor roof. We visit with our new friends from Canada, Norway and Germany. We wait for the very hungover niñas, who had way too much party for their days here, gather their belongings and make their way to the bus station which will bring them back home to their families in Merida. We read books, meet friends for dinner, go to the beach, ride bikes, practice yoga, make small paintings, draw pictures, stitch embroidery, sing songs and play guitar. Each and every day is simply perfect. Everyone is happy, full of stories and laughter. Vive feliz. As always, the playa is forever shimmering in countless shades of turquoise. Unending waves. It is my favorite color, the color of the Caribbean Sea. It is the color I see when I close my eyes. Today, the sun is warm upon our shoulders and the air is humid and sweet. “There is one spectacle grander than the sea, that is the sky; there is one spectacle grander than the sky, that is the interior of the soul.”  ― Victor Hugo, Les Misérables Caribbean Sea, Acrylic on Canvas Board, 6" x 6", 2014

Blanca and my Broken Foot

Blanca - photo: Bryce Fairbanks

As dreams go they are often full of little vignettes and I usually don't remember them. I've been trying to write them down sometimes and use them to feed my writing.  

I dreamed I had a broken left foot or ankle. The dream did not divulge how exactly I broke it, but since I am in Mexico my guess it I walked into a hole in the sidewalk or stumbled up or down a curb somewhere. The sidewalks here are very treacherous and much like an obstacle course. Curbs appear in odd places, trees appear in the middle of the path and unexplained holes that will never be repaired, rebar jutting out for a someday light pole and a pathways of varying heights.

The clinic had simply put a lightweight beautifully decorated cast which stopped about mid shin. I was happy there was no pain and running around like nothing was wrong. The cast seemed to weigh no more than my black engineer boot I was wearing on my good foot. My feet looked good together a nice juxtaposition of beauty and toughness.

I'm sitting on top of a picnic table, both feet resting on the bench and some of my friends are there with all their happy dogs and cats. I'm not in Mexico and not sure why. We are getting ready to share food. 

We are all happy and excited because for too may days Blanca, the dog had gone on an adventure in a neighborhood she was not familiar with. She was unable to find her home and unable to cross the big river. She is a little bit shy and difficult to lure.

We are celebrating that Blanca is home safe again. At the gathering we notice that Blanca has again wandered off, but we can still hear the jingle of her tag attached to her collar. We are not concerned because we know she is near her home and can find her way back. After a short time, she runs up to everyone and looks at us as if she is joking about wandering off but she says with her eyes, "I won't do that ever again." She is happy to be home. 

Tiger Jack, St. Paul, Minnesota

Tiger Jack

For years I drove by this man every day on my way to work in St. Paul, Minnesota. He was just always there. The man hanging at a shack on the corner of Dale Street at the I-94 freeway westbound entrance was always friendly. He sold charcoal and waved hello to drivers stopped at the traffic light. I never gave it a lot of thought. He was just another character in the city. I never really knew how he came to be there. He was a curiosity of sorts but I never bothered to know more. He was just always there until he wasn't.

Everyone has a story and it wasn't until many years later that I even cared to learn a tiny bit more about the man, Tiger Jack. These little bits and pieces painted a beautiful picture of the man, at a shack on the corner.

He came from the east coast and his mother died when he was quite young. He grew up with relatives and eventually hopped a train to Minnesota during the Great Depression of the 1930’s. He talked his way into a 7th Street gym and became a boxer. He boxed at night and shined shoes during the day. In the late 40's he opened a small variety store in a bustling black commercial district in the St. Paul, Rondo neighborhood. The business was successful until the commercial district was destroyed when the Interstate came through in the mid-60's and busted up the neighborhood.

Tiger Jack's Shack

He moved the shack to the corner where Dale Street crossed the freeway and there he was. Day in and day out for over 30 years he shined shoes, sold charcoal, kerosene, candy and occasionally other items. He lived a simple honest life with no debt and worked hard. He spoke his mind. He was diligent. He sent 8 children to school on the profits from his little charcoal and shoeshine shack. Tiger Jack was a survivor.

After his death his family gave the shack to the city and it was moved to the Minnesota History Center. When you visit there, give old Tiger Jack a big wave. He engraved a memory in my mind, a memory that reminds me to persevere and be kind. I don't get over to that corner much anymore but, when I do, I still look for him, even though he is long gone.

(c)Just1backpack, originally published 2013

Mr Respect Documentary:

Film Credit: Mr. Respect is a documentary portrait of the late Tiger Jack Rosenbloom. It was made by a class of sixth grader along with their teachers, Steve Ford and Media Mike Hazard. It is a community lesson for the world.