Postcard from Lake View Tea and Dining Room
This undated postcard shows the Lake View Tea and Dining Room at 730 E. Superior St., “on the shore of Lake Superior where you can view the large steamers coming and going.”
This undated postcard shows the Lake View Tea and Dining Room at 730 E. Superior St., “on the shore of Lake Superior where you can view the large steamers coming and going.”
John Rudolph Zweifel was a Duluth-based photographer from roughly 1885 to 1935. Several of his cabinet card portraits have appeared in Perfect Duluth Day’s “Mystery Photo” series over the years. Now a composite print of his work samples has emerged.
This undated postcard shows Duluth’s Incline Railway, which operated from 1891 to 1939. The tram system carried passengers from a housing development at the top of the hillside into the downtown along Seventh Avenue West.
I have four hooded sweatshirts in my closet. That’s probably not an unusual number, because the hoodie is a popular shirt style. It also seems like a very practical garment, designed to keep people warm and cozy. It’s like an indoor/outdoor jackety blanket for people who don’t want to feel weird about wearing a jacket inside or a blanket outside.
Though I sometimes wear hoodies and appreciate the idea behind the design, I don’t actually like them. The reason is that there are really only two things that differentiate a hoodie from a sweatshirt — the hood and the kangaroo pocket. And both of those things are stupid.
Yet, somehow, hoodies are far more popular than regular sweatshirts. The reason, I think, is because most people believe they sincerely like the hood and the jumbo single-pocket abdominal pad. But really, they don’t. They just can’t.
Surely hoodie lovers have been waiting for decades for someone to come along and explain how stupid they are. Well, here I am. Society is now just a few paragraphs away from the end of the hoodie, because everyone is going to agree with me, change their ways immediately, and heap praise upon me for freeing them from their misguided perceptions of fashion and comfort.
The journey of blogging from personal to institutional has been slow and steady, but there are still individuals crafting creative narratives about their lives and the things they love. Of course, there are also organizations that want to promote tourism, hotel rooms and merchandise by mixing in lists of the ten best trails to lure in readers. Whether the medium is better or worse in 2024 than in 2004 is up for debate, but blogging is, at least on some level, still a thing.
Every two years or so, Perfect Duluth Day scans the web to see who’s active in the local blogosphere, compiling a comprehensive-as-possible guide to the region’s active web logs. Below is the roundup as of September 2024.
This undated postcard shows the Willard Munger Inn circa 1970, when it was simply the “Willard Motel.” It is still in operation in Duluth’s Norton Park neighborhood.
This photo of Downtown Duluth, found on the French-language edition of Wikipedia, is dated Sept. 1, 1964. It shows East Superior Street from Lake Avenue looking northeast with the Hotel Duluth at center frame. Note the NorShor Theatre still had its tower marquee, which was dismantled in 1967.
This postcard, published by the Duluth Photo Engraving Company, was mailed 100 years ago today — Aug. 30, 1924. It shows the Great Northern Power Company Dam, now known as the Thomson Dam and operated by Minnesota Power.
For a tad more than 21 years, Perfect Duluth Day has depended heavily on unpaid labor. Though multiple independent contractors receive paychecks for their contributions to the website, the amount of work that goes out has always greatly exceeded the amount of dollars that come in. That’s why we occasionally toss up a post to remind everyone that PDD can always be better or worse based on cash flow, so donations are a big help.
This undated postcard, published by Zenith Interstate News Company, shows coal docks in the Duluth Harbor. There is no caption on the back identifying the name of the docks, and the image is an illustration that might not exactly depict reality, but it is likely meant to represent the Clarkson Coal & Dock Company.
Imagine waking up in the middle of the night to discover a pillow is being pushed down over your face. Just like in the movies. How would you react?
Well, perhaps you can learn from me. I recently woke up to find myself being smothered, and I survived. How I escaped is less interesting than what went through my head in the first three seconds.
The human brain can perform quickly in these situations. It can sort through dozens of scenarios instantly. This is partly because our thoughts can be morbid at times, leading us to plan ahead for how to respond to things that are very unlikely to happen. We are also influenced by movies, television, books and other forms of storytelling that warn us there really are people who, randomly or premeditatedly, are stabbed, shot, strangled or otherwise rubbed out. If it happened to them, it can happen to you, right?
Being suffocated by someone pushing a pillow into your face should rank pretty low on the list of ways you might think you could be killed, even though it’s something that frequently happens on TV. It just seems so stupid. Why would someone planning a murder choose such a potentially flawed option? And why would anyone acting impulsively choose a pillow as the best available murder weapon? Are there really no blunt objects in the room? Is it really possible in the United States of America to enter a bedroom without passing a gun rack or a kitchen with a vast array of knives? Or is the murderer really limited to seeking out an extra pillow, decorative and fluffy, near the one under the head of the victim?
From G. E. Sackett’s Owl Studio at 6 E. Superior St. in Duluth circa 1915 comes this photo of two unknown men.
This postcard, circa perhaps 1910, shows the western side of Downtown Duluth and the city’s hillside, with the caption “$5,000,000 Water Power.” Though the card doesn’t make it clear what that means, the logical guess is it refers to Duluth’s investment in hydraulic power at the start of the 20th century.
You’ve probably noticed most things are more expensive these days. But reading Perfect Duluth Day is just as free as it has always been.
Keeping Duluth’s Duluthiest website running with new content every day, however, comes with a price tag. That’s why we occasionally toss up a post like this one to remind everyone that PDD can always be better or worse based on cash flow, so donations are a big help.
This postcard was mailed 110 years ago today — July 22, 1914. It shows Duluth’s Incline Railway, which operated from 1891 to 1939. The tram system carried passengers from a housing development at the top of the hillside into the downtown along Seventh Avenue West.
