Mystery Photo: Duluth Residence in 1910
Based on the postmark and the last line of the scrawled message on the back, we might presume this image is of a Duluth house in 1910. What is the address? Is it still standing? Let the mystery solving begin.
Based on the postmark and the last line of the scrawled message on the back, we might presume this image is of a Duluth house in 1910. What is the address? Is it still standing? Let the mystery solving begin.
Oh, those wacky puns. This postcards was mailed from Duluth 115 years ago today — Dec. 26, 1905. It arrived in Newark, N.J. three days later, and eventually at the home of Mr. L. Volland.
This image of Duluth’s Aerial Bridge, from Detroit Publishing Company, appears to have been shot during one of the first ferry-car transfers across the canal. The Library of Congress dates the images as 1905 … with a question mark.
On the edge of Birchwood Park, a small playground park at 222 W. Heard St. in the New Duluth neighborhood, is an old stairway down to a ravine that I’m guessing runs into Sargent Creek. The existence of this stairway is probably common knowledge in New Duluth, but it is kind of tucked away so that others visiting the park are unlikely to notice. And it raises the question of what used to be down there.
Often we don’t know who is the subject of these old studio photos, but this time it’s written on the back. So we know this is Marie Victoria Benson of 2801 W. Second St. in Duluth’s friendly West End. (Or is it 2301?) She later became Mrs. Edward Cluett.
In this edition of the PDD Video Lab we’ve taken mid-20th Century Duluth footage from the National Archive and set it to the title track from the 2017 Ingeborg von Agassiz album O Giver of Dreams.
This undated postcard, published by Zenith Interstate News Company, shows the USS Forrest Sherman Destroyer-931 docked on Rice’s Point in Duluth, with the Peavey grain elevator in the background.
The story of Peggy and Pegeen Guggenheim, as told by the Situationist painter Ralph Rumney, reads like Shakespeare: court intrigue, backstabbing, madness, and suicide. Rumney’s book The Consul provides a critical point of view on this fraught mother-daughter relationship cracking up at the cutting edge of the art world.
The film above was discovered with no info such as who shot it, or when and where the scenes were captured. It clearly features Duluth at the beginning and end, however, and appears to be circa 1937.
I stumbled on the fascinating story of Eastman Johnson’s time in the Arrowhead Region, and thought Perfect Duluth Day’s historians might weigh in on him. The above landscape, in charcoal, chalk and gouache on paper, shows Superior as viewed from a trading post on Park Point in 1857. After painting portraits of luminaries such as Hawthorne, Emerson, Longfellow and Abe Lincoln, then studying art in Europe, Johnson traveled to Superior, where he had relatives. In 1856 he lived in a log cabin on Pokegema Bay, in what is now the Superior Municipal Forest.
The undated postcards here show the USS Gopher at Duluth. The vessel had a 34-year history on the East Coast as the USS Fern before being renamed Gopher on Dec. 27, 1905, when it began duty with the Minnesota Naval Militia in Duluth.
Duluthians who have clothesline poles like the one in this advertisement are displaying the work of a gig-economy pioneer. There’s probably not a lot of this type of century-old ornamental concrete lawn stuff still hanging around, but it was certainly made to last and would be likely to survive just about anything except falling out of fashion.
The advertising flier dates to the mid 1920s and comes to Perfect Duluth Day via Jolee Edmondson of Savannah, Ga. She’s a granddaughter of Herman Enoch Magnusson, Duluth maker of “concrete bird baths, seats, benches and clothes line poles.”
