At long last, a countdown of the best voyageur statues in northern Minnesota, with tidbits on why the state is so fascinated by these colorful figures who worked as the long-haul truckers of the fur trade.
Minnesota Historia is a PBS North web series dedicated to Minnesota’s quirky past. It is hosted by Hailey Eidenschink and produced/edited/written by Mike Scholtz.
A lot of William S. Burroughs kind of sounds like Djuna Barnes. The prime example: Barnes created the character Doctor Matthew O’Connor in her 1936 novel Nightwood, and Dr. O’Connor could easily be confused with the 1938 Burroughs character, Dr. Benway (no first name). Each fictional physician is a comically amoral addict abortionist. I think it’s likely Burroughs created Dr. Benway within a year of reading Nightwood. Burroughs owes Barnes a debt of inspiration, and not just in the creation of Benway — many of his other characters could also be walk-ons in Nightwood, fitting in well among Barnes’ cast of liars, pretenders, and cheats. So it’s safe to say Barnes influenced the characters Burroughs created. I will also show her influence on his voice, style, and themes.
Since the 1980s, a Burroughs blurb appears on the back of every Nightwood edition, saying in its entirety, “I read Nightwood back in the 1930s and was very taken with it. I consider it one of the great books of the twentieth century.” That’s all he ever said about it; it says it all. It is commonly acknowledged that he admired her work, but I think Barnes had a larger influence. I think Burroughs took what he learned from Nightwood and then, in 1959, he wrote the actual number-one greatest book of the twentieth century, Naked Lunch. Barnes’ influence is found there, and throughout Burroughs’ work.
Dr. Storer came to Duluth from New York in 1893, where he set up practice as a local dentist. This post uses the Duluth Herald archives to recount notable events from his life, including his legal battle with Dr. Laird’s Travelling Medicine Show, his second marriage to a locally renowned German dietitian, and his role in what the original Duluth Rip-saw referred to as the “worst war in the glorious history of Lester Park.”
Duluth Mayor George D. Johnson appeared on the CBS-TV show To Tell the Truth in an episode that aired May 31, 1965 — 60 years ago today. Mayor Johnson was the second of three characters/contestants introduced on the show. The concept of To Tell the Truth is that each character is accompanied by two imposters, and the three of them answer questions from a panel of celebrities who then try to guess which of the three is the authentic person.
This postcard, unmailed and undated, shows Downtown Duluth at night, circa perhaps the 1930s.
The Hotel Duluth opened 100 years ago this month. Business operations began on May 8, 1925, and a formal grand opening was held May 22-23.
Superior’s Androy Hotel opened 100 years ago today — May 15, 1925. It was advertised as the largest and only fireproof hotel in Superior.
This photo is dated 1965; photographer unknown.
One hundred years ago today — May 11, 1925 — the Hockin Brace & Paleen furniture store opened in the new building on the corner of Lake Avenue and West First Street in Duluth. The location is best known today as the Usan building, home of the Duluth Area Chamber of Commerce since 2002.
[Editor’s note: For this week’s essay we’ve once again pulled out a relic from the archive of Slim Goodbuzz, who served as Duluth’s “booze connoisseur” from 1999 to 2009. Twenty years ago the Sultan of Sot paid a visit to Eagles Aerie 80 at 1710 N. 12th St. in Superior, and composed this article for the May 2005 edition of the Ripsaw newspaper.]
So, what is the Fraternal Order of the Eagles? Well, according to the group’s motto, “Eagles are people helping people.” How do they help people? Well, who cares? They help me by selling 34-ounce mugs of beer for $2.50 during “late-night happy hour” from 10 p.m. to midnight. Thank you, Eagles Aerie 80. “People helping people,” indeed.
The Eagles are also big on disaster relief. For example, all this cheap beer is causing a 9+ magnitude gutquake in my stomach, but, this being a Saturday, I can count on a wholesome breakfast to be served tomorrow, right here, hopefully in time to prevent a reverse tsunami.
Right now, however, I’m so fucktarded drunk that, despite being surrounded by philanthropists, I’m seriously thinking about stealing an old guy’s jacket. It’s a Rusty Nail jacket, advertising my favorite South Superior bar, and I think it will look good on me.
A rock on a section of undeveloped land on Fourth Street between Seventh and Eighth avenues east. (Photo by Matthew James)
There are a lot of rocks, large and small, strewn about Duluth. This post uses the assistance of ChatGPT, backed-up by a moderate amount of fact checking, to figure out what can and cannot be known about this particular one.
Carl Kuchenbecker was apparently responsible for nine primates disappearing into the woods near Kingsbury Creek during his many years as proprietor of The Same Old Place in West Duluth. The story of a “ringtailed monkey” named Bobby landed on the front page of the Duluth Herald on Oct. 18, 1941.
This postcard image, touched up a bit from an eBay listing, shows The Same Old Place tourist information center and cabins at Fairmount Park in West Duluth.
This photo is dated April 19, 1910 — 115 years ago today. It shows a house with two adults standing against a wooden fence and a child sitting on the fence. The image is from a postcard with writing indicating the house was in West Duluth.
