I love the current "Edina on the Map" exhibit because it has helped spotlight neighborhoods that have been "too new" for the historical record to take much notice. Highlands, with its first addition offered for sale in 1948, was still being developed in 1950s and 1960s. Compared with Morningside, once a separate village and platted more than 100 years ago, Highlands seems to have a relatively short and uneventful history.
Drive through Highlands today, and you'll see historic changes taking place. Many of the original ramblers have been torn down and replaced by new construction. That's why I'm grateful to former and current residents who have donated artifacts that document the period in Edina history that will soon be lost to redevelopment.
After seeing the original real estate brochure for Highlands in our exhibit, Paul Trautman and his sister Jean offered to send photos of their family home at 5245 Lochloy built in 1952 by their parents Lucius and Jean Trautman. The home is a perfect example of what the brochure touted as the "trend home" for modern living.
The house was designed by James H. Speckmann, a Minnesota proponent of California Modernism, a design style with an "open ground-level floor plan, big floor-to-ceiling windows, and wide roof overhangs. All of that is meant to bring the outdoors in."
The Trautman home, with a new owner, still stands with the exterior design intact. The surrounding area is more developed, however, than when the Trautmans first moved here in 1952. Paul remembers the house in the background of the photo below as being "a short walk of a steep hill ... it is probably a three-mile drive to that house. The Watson lived there and they eventually took ownership of Freckles when Dad refused to bail him out from the dog catcher after several incarcerations. That was OK though because he still came and played with us and the Watsons had to feed him."
With its naturally hilly terrain, the Highlands neighborhood was well suited to ramblers with walkout basements. That's Paul and Freckles near the breezeway in the photo below.
Highlands offered high-end homes for the era. Many of the homeowners were like Lucius Trautman, executives commuting to Minneapolis jobs. Trautman was one of the owners of Minneapolis Artificial Limb Company, which has a long history in the state.
Do you have Edina home photos to share? In addition to the Trautman house, we featured Alden Drive photos from the Parsons family here. We'd love to feature your home as well. Email me or call the museum at 612-928-4577 to find out how.
Imagine that you could travel back in time and see the Cahill District before business development and subdivisions.
Instead of a busy paved street, you would travel along a gravel road past farms and fields to the community center at 70th and Cahill Croad that contained a one-room school, Cameron's mom and pop grocery store and (not pictured) St. Patrick's Catholic Church and Calvary Lutheran. This photo from our collection shows a moment in time from that period.
This recently donated home movie provides a longer look -- 11 minutes and 27 seconds, to be exact -- at how Irish farm families in southwest Edina lived in the 1930s and 1940s.
The film can was labeled: "Mary and Tom (Ryan) 1935, Cahill Festival 1937, St. Patrick Church, Minneapolis Streetcars and Duggan's old home 1944." The film surfaced as some of those Irish families -- the Duggans, Delaneys and Ryans -- were preparing for a combined family reunion last summer to coincide with the city's Quasquicentennial celebration.
One of the elder relatives, 87-year-old Tom Ryan, Jr., recognized several family members but many people in the film are not known. If your family attended St. Patrick Catholic Church during this period, you might even recognize your own relatives in the big crowd scenes at the 1937 church festival. If you can identify anyone, comment here with the name and time stamp or email me with the information.
I know many of you will enjoy seeing Cahill School and Cameron's store about the 10 minute mark. The blowing snow on the film might inspire you to appreciate today's high heat and humidity -- or at least today's modern HVAC. I know I'm happy to travel back in time via home movies rather than going back to chop my own wood for the furnace or cool down with a paper fan. What about you?
Here are a couple of maps to show you where the movie was filmed: 2014 Google map (top) and 1913 plat map (bottom) showing the Irish farm owner names.
1913 plat map,from Atlas of Hennepin County, Minnesota.Compiled and drawn by P.O. Westby, C.E.
We have some great treasures in our map collection. (But alas, no treasure maps.)
Still, even without a big X marking the spot to buried gold, these maps are priceless. You will have a chance to see some examples of these document gems in our upcoming "Edina on the Map" exhibit that will open in mid-March. Today, I'll give you a sneak peek at some for the Highlands neighborhood.
The white map at the bottom is the registered plat, and the other two show advertising brochures from the The Spring Company realtors, which developed the property.
Highlands includes Ayrshire Boulevard, Lochloy Drive, and Duncraig Road.
If you can't quite match up the Google map above with the real estate brochure map below, take heart. North is on the left of the realtors' map instead of the top. You can see that the Spring Company realtors also emphasized the neighborhood's proximity to three golf courses (Edina Country Club, Meadowbrook and Interlachen.) Although the brochure is undated, it points out the "new high school," (now the Edina Community Center) which opened in 1949.
I love to see how neighborhoods were marketed, with sample home exteriors and floor plans. Does anyone recognize their home in this design?
"The Trend Home - The first consideration in designing the 'Trend Home' was 'What do people in this part of the country like and need?'. A plan consistent with our climate and ways of living. As the house was to be built in 'Edina Highlands,' with its large lots, beautiful views and rolling country-side, we knew the prospective owner would live a relaxed country life."
Many of the maps in the exhibit come to us from the private collection of Frank Cardarelle, a fourth generation Edina resident and a second generation surveyor. His father platted the first Highlands addition, and Frank joined him after he graduated from that "new high school" in 1951 to plat the remaining additions.
How great is it that we have a photo of Frank presenting a map program last year to kids who live in the Highlans neighborhood? From those enthusiastic hands in the air, it looks like these Highlands Elementary second graders love maps as much as I do. (Thanks, Marcia Friedman with Edina Public Schools for sharing this photo with us.)
Meet Bob Buresh, who started as an Edina volunteer firefighter when he was just an 18-year-old high school senior and retired as the city's Public Safety Chief, heading both the police and fire departments.
Not a bad career path for someone who got involved with the Fire Department as a Boy Scout, along with his friend Bill Feck, another Edina boy who became Fire Chief. They both joined the U.S. Air Force together in 1951 but returned to the department as volunteers after the service. Bob took a job as a full-time firefighter in 1957 and then worked his way "up the ladder," so to speak, getting promoted to lieutenant in 1963, to captain in 1967, to assistant fire chief in 1968, and chief in 1975. He retired in 1987.
The history of his career -- and the Edina Fire Department -- is told through these artifacts that Buresh donated last week. The 35 items include firefighting turnout gear, his dress uniform blazer and hat, as well as badges, pins, nametags, photo ID card and Village of Edina business cards.
Here's a closer look at a few of the items. Do you notice that some pins have one horn, while others have two or three? As I learned when creating an exhibit with the police and fire departments a few years ago, the horns indicate rank, with one signifying lieutenant, two for captain, three for assistant chief and four for chief. Bob accumulated quite a collection during his long career.
(Can you see Bob's height on his Village of Edina identification badge? He still stands straight and tall at 6-foot-4.)
Bob wore this hat (decorated with the three horns) when he was assistant chief. The dress blazer also indicates rank, with three stars on one sleeve.
I especially like the turnout gear -- the protective clothing worn while fighting fires. Both the coat and the hat look like they've been through a few battles.
Bob also served as head of the Minnesota Fire Chiefs Association, which worked to get a firefighter's memorial at the Minnesota Capitol. This is replica, the first in a series of 700. The firefighter wears No. 10 on his hat, the same number as Bob's when he was Edina chief.
Several years ago, one of our volunteers Bob Reid did an oral history with Bob Buresh and other fire chiefs to get a history of the department. I think it's time for another interview, this time to focus in on Buresh's childhood. Bob had some great stories to tell about ski jumping as a kid in Edina.
"You mean the one at Hyland Park in Bloomington?" I asked.
Nope, the one off Skyline Drive in Edina in the late 1930s, he said, when the area still was undeveloped countryside.
The news even surprised one of our board members Bob Kojetin, who never heard tales of an Edina ski jump while he was Park and Rec Director, albeit decades later.
(Yes, there are three Bobs in this story, in case you're counting: Bob Reid, Bob Buresh and Bob Kojetin.)
Now that you've met Bob Buresh, I'm sure you'll see more of him as we find out more about these great Edina Fire Department artifacts and hear more stories about growing up in Edina.
"Monday Mashup" is a roundup of reader comments with a few observations of my own.
The recent essay by John Reid, Streetcar days in Morningside, elicited some memories for Carole Whalen Wenborg, who wrote:
I was a Bluebird and, later, a Camp Fire Girl in St. Louis Park for several years. We used to have streetcar parties that were great fun. For a price we could rent a streetcar, fill it up with friends and food, add a battery powered phonograph and a pile of 45's and we were good to go. For an hour or more we were transported around town in a mobile party room, dancing and eating. Of course, there were adults on board and I believe they enjoyed themselves as much as we junior highers. Such fun!
I hadn't heard about the mobile streetcar parties before. Thanks for writing, Carole!
Daniel G wrote:
Wonderful article. I've been researching the early history of the streetcar in Edina, and it's easy to get focused on dates, corporate names, mile markers, and other "facts and figures." I thought this was a fascinating and refreshing perspective on how the streetcars affected real people. Thanks for posting it! (BTW, that TCRT streetcar now in San Francisco turns around at a loop right near my house).
Yes! Accurate dates and data are important in historical research, but memories really show how the culture was affected by historical events. I'd love to see your research when you're done, and in the meantime, here are some more fun memories from Edina residents, who wrote essays for our "Streetcar Memories" exhibit in 2004, 50 years after the last streetcar ran in Edina.
In the mid 1930s, our family rented a farm house on what is now North Street. The back yard abutted the streetcar tracks. The house is still there. It has been upgraded, and is now very charming. To the west of the house was a dirt road that runs along Minnehaha Creek. It didn’t have the name at that time. My Dad would catch the streetcar at Brookside Avenue to go work in a machine shop off East Hennepin Avenue. He was a machinist and worked long hours during the Depression. On the return home, he always sat on the left hand seats. Mother would send us out in the back yard to see if Dad was sound asleep leaning against the window. We would know then that he would be going all the way out to the end of the line in Hopkins and he would be about a half hour late for dinner.
– Tom Divine, Edina
Friday nights in the fall the high school football games were played at Nicollet Field and the Selby-Lake cars were loaded to the gills with kids. I remember jumping out the window to get out of paying my token when we got to Nicollet. I really did it because I thought it was daring and a sort of wild thing to do. We girls didn’t have much imagination about being wild in those days.
– Kathleen Wetherall, a former student at St. Margaret’s Academy in Minneapolis
ROCKED TO SLEEP
On many a late winter afternoon, I would be riding home on the streetcar in the early darkness. After a long day at the U and trying to read some assignment for the next day – I would succumb to the carbon monoxide fumes and fall asleep. More often than not, I’d miss my stop at 43rd and Upton only to be awakened by the conductor at the end of the line, which was 54th and France. At that point, the only alternative was to put another token in the fare box and ride back to my stop hoping I hadn’t missed supper.
– Joe Sullivan, Edina
Note: You may know Joe Sullivan as the author of the great history features in the City of Edina's quarterly publication "About Town."
A MEN'S ONLY STRONGHOLD
When the 1950s started and I was nearing the end of grade school, there was a streetcar way to mark the passage to manhood. More and more I would pass by empty seats to stand on the back platform. It was a men’s only stronghold where guys of all ages would lean against the circle of windows, smoking, talking and importantly hanging out. At the time, I had no idea that this culture, along with the whole experience of trolley, was about to be uprooted.
– Tom Clark of Edina
It would not come as a surprise to me if ten years of my first 20 were spent on the Como-Harriet streetcar. (It was not known as a trolley!) Travels to church, downtown, the ‘U’ for the Youth Symphony Series, the state fair and college. At least twice a week trips were the norm for a one-car family who lived two miles from the end of the line.
Never to be forgotten were trying to get the seat with the heater on the floor during the winter, the open back platform for the smokers and the clink of that 10 cent token hitting the silver dome in the coin counter.
– Mary Westerberg Fenlason, Edina
Summer and winter we went about our business in any weather. I love to think about the ride along the “freeway” by Harriet and Calhoun in summer when the Motorman would open the throttle full bore. The car would rock and the wind felt so good on a hot night. That was air conditioning of the day.
I even used the car to go from home to home on my Public Health rotation during nursing school. That was COLD to wait for the car as we didn’t have such nice warm clothes as we have now. Wool in the wind offered little protection. In winter, the car was warm and welcoming after the wait on some corner.
– Lila Borst Larson, Edina
WAITING IN BELLESON’S
In 1933 we moved to Morningside about a block west of the Westgate Theater site. There we had a choice of services with the Como Hopkins running along its own right of way on the South side of 44th Street, the Como-Harriet to 54th and France coming down France Avenue and the Como Harriet ending at its own loop just east of 44th and France.
The favorite place to wait for the streetcar was initially inside (or just outside) the front door of Lars Belleson’s Country Club Market.
This store was the forerunner of the Country Club Market chain formed when Lars sold out to go into the haberdashery business on 50th Street. We could see the Como Hopkins coming far enough in advance to run across the street if it arrived first.
– James Grunnet, Edina
Did these stories prompt any memories? We'd love to hear from you. Please comment below or email me. Happy Monday, everyone!
Some of the "Then and Now" photo pairings showcased in "EdinaScapes" exhibit, now on display at the Edina History Museum. Current scenes photographed by Chip Jones.
Photographer Chip Jones clearly remembers his first camera: a Minolta XG-1 purchased from Southdale Dayton's photo department when he was attending Edina East High School.
In his mind's eye, he still sees Southdale as it looked during his childhood, with a film counter at Dayton's and the bird cage in the Garden Court.
So when I asked him to shoot the present day scenes of historic photos in our collections, he willingly volunteered for the task. The resulting paired "Then and Now" photos are part of our current "EdinaScapes" exhibit on display at the Edina History Museum until Dec. 21.
We originally envisioned a short-term display, but we both liked the images so much that the photos are nicely framed and part of our permanent collection. You can have a piece of Edina history too: the framed pairs (see right) are available to order for $120 each.
As you can see, Chip shot the present day scenes from the same angle and distance as the historic photos. Linhoff Photo worked with us to print and crop the photos to the same scale to get the look just right..
I love the display. And so have our visitors, who immediately can see what has changed -- and what has stayed the same -- over time.
Chip tromped all over town to scout locations. Some scenes just didn't work, because trees or other buildings obscured the view. But we see the potential in doing more "Then and Now" projects with other photos in our collection.
I'm grateful that a professional photographer volunteered his time and talents, especially someone like Chip, who specializes in landscape photography from a fine arts perspective.
His passion for photography grew while working on his BFA in painting and drawing at the University of Minnesota, from where he graduated Magna Cum Laude. He went on to receive his MFA in Film/Video from CalArts (California Institute of the Arts), a private art school founded by Walt Disney in Los Angeles, California with an advanced curriculum in Art, Dance, Film, Music and Theater.
Chip returned to Edina after college. He is married Megan Maloney, who also grew up in Ediina. He has been active on the Edina Public Art Committee, as well as the Crosstown Camera Club.
In addition to his business in internet marketing, he works with photography clients looking for artistic photos that fit a theme, such as a riverfront condominium wanting fine art photos of the river or a chamber of commerce requesting beautiful photos showing a strong business climate in their community.
His work can be seen locally at Jason's Deli at Centennial Lakes and the Town Planner calendar, as well as private offices. His website also has an Edina gallery.
Chip grew up wanting to paint and draw, but he found his art through the lens of his camera purchased from his hometown shopping mall.
We want your stories for the Edina Reads writing contest. Deadline is Oct. 1. To inspire you, here is a wonderful story from our collection.
By John Reid
We moved into the house at the corner of 44th and Grimes in the summer of 1932. Well, it wasn’t quite on the corner, since the streetcar tracks ran on a private right of way next to it. The big yellow cars would come rocketing by every half hour, on their way to Hopkins or to Minneapolis.
They seldom stopped on the inbound trip since an extra fare was charged when they crossed France Avenue - so few folks boarded at Grimes. It could have been a convenience for us, but it was the height (depth?) of the Depression and money was tight. Even the dime fare made a difference in those days. When we were really sick, we did use that stop to board to go to the doctor.
But it was wonderful to have a way to get downtown and back without a car. I was admonished to take “any Como car” to return home on my own from forays with my mother, and ventured on my own when about 11 or 12 years old. The Como Hopkins cars went by the house, the Como Harriet’s turned in the loop at 44th and France and also went on to 50th or to 54th and were turned on the wye there. From then on the downtown library, stores and theaters were accessible to all of us, car-less homemakers and kids alike.
As the winter hit in ‘32 a new phenomenon appeared. The dishes on the pantry shelves started to rattle every time a car passed. It seemed that the frozen ground transmitted the vibrations set up by the heavy cars. The cessation of the phenomenon was a good herald of Spring. The amount of the car’s weight was demonstrated when a car labeled “Oak Harriet” hit a fire truck when going uphill on Upton Ave. The fire truck was tossed on its side into a corner lot and a picture appeared in the paper of it lying there, looking helpless.
The cars had a thick concrete platform in front and back that held them on the track as they made time along the straight stretches near the lakes. Summers were wonderful, with the windows open and the smell of the flowers in the backyards along the route south of 31st. in Minneapolis. Modern light rail is far too antiseptic in comparison. When the PCC cars were put into service after the war they were very unsatisfactory; spooky silent wheels that didn’t have to nice screams on curves, curved walls and roofs that cramped the insides and the windows didn’t open! Just like a bus. I sometimes passed them up to take the next wooden car.
The same 44th and France corner without streetcars today. Image from Google maps.
We kids couldn’t resist playing with the streetcars! The “big kids” who lived there would put pennies on the track. They emerged squashed quite flat and bigger. Stones were also tried. They exploded with a loud bang when they were hit. Once the streetcar stopped and the conductor yelled about it being dangerous. Sometime about then the game of “streetcars are poison” arose. The idea was to hide so that no one on the cars could see you. The one who spotted the oncoming streetcar got points, although there wasn’t much point to the whole thing.
There was some danger to those of us who walked the tracks to get to the stores at 44th and France Ave. Otherwise we had to cross 44th street at the octagonal stop sign, and the cars often didn’t pay much attention to the kids. Using the tracks was faster, and if we didn’t hear the cars they would blast their electric horns, so no one was hit as far as I know. There were a couple of times when cars came from both directions at once when it was best to go over the edge of the embankment to avoid them.
But we did have some excitement the day a big wind blew for hours. As I came from the Morningside School towards home I could see that all of the mothers were out in the street waving things. The poles that held the trolley wire had leaned over until the wire was maybe two feet from the street! We were told to go down to Curve Avenue and cross the tracks there, where the wires were higher and Constable George Weber was directing traffic. At the Grimes crossing the cars were warned away by a lot of hand waving, but something better was needed.
Some of the Boy Scouts brought the tug-of war rope from the church, and slid it under the wire to the moms. They tied it between the posts of the “cross buck” warning signs and festooned it with towels and kerchiefs to make it visible to traffic. One woman came from the Country Club and accelerated as she approached the rope. SHE wasn’t going to stop! All of the assembled crowd yelled and her bumper hit the rope. The big timbers to which it was tied snapped, tossing the cross buck signs toward the car. She did make a panic stop with her bumper maybe an inch from the wire. She just sat there for a minute or so. We finally had to go in for dinner and didn’t see the repair crew, but the line was restored in hours.
During the Depression the “knights of the road” were seen along many rail lines, riding the rails to jobs or to warmer climes. Some of them even came to our back door, asking for a handout. Mother didn’t want to turn them away, and usually could find a job for them to do to earn lunch.
The final removal of the line was during my days at the U of M. I had an old ’33 Plymouth and didn’t use the streetcar much. Of course, if I needed a part from the dealer downtown it was very handy! France Avenue was deteriorating. The city owned it out to the middle, Edina and Morningside owned the other half, the almost bankrupt streetcar company was responsible for maintaining the areas between the tracks and, to cap it all off, it was a State highway. Each partner had others to blame and nothing was done to fix it. The potholes made it so undriveable that Edina simply widened their half into a full size road of new concrete that was entirely on Edina property. The Minneapolis half sat going further to ruin as the months passed.
To stop the streetcars the Edina road crew showed up with tools and disconnected one rail of the track, and lifted it out of place. Some pictures were taken of councilmen watching this. The cars still ran to the loop at 44th, but not for long.
The line is gone now, everyone uses cars and children are shepherded everywhere. The land used by the streetcar line was nice and flat so houses were built along the right of way. But the lots aren’t very wide!
So it seems incredible that we let this entire system disappear. Sometimes even now I dream that I am back in Minneapolis trying to figure out how to get back to Morningside. I am looking for Hennepin Avenue-and on it a big yellow trolley that was somehow saved comes by . . . .
Nope, it's not a typo. While this blog normally features "Photo Friday," this week it's "Photo Wednesday" because I can't wait two more days to show you this great photo donated by the granddaughter of Red Joyce, who owned a bakery in Morningside for several decades.1931 ad
Finally, photographic evidence of a long-time local business that served generations of Edina and Morningside residents.
According to the 1966 phone directory ad (above), Joyce's Bakery opened in 1922, just two years after the little neighborhood of Morningside seceded from Edina to create its own village. (Note: the owner was not related to 1960s Morningside Mayor Ken Joyce.)
Owner W.J. "Red" Joyce was well-known for his red hair and his white bread.
Located at 4406 France Avenue South, Joyce's Bakery shared a building with Carlson's Odd Shop, Burr Cheever's barber shop, Morningside Hardware and Griffen Drug.
You probably know the building now as the Bruegger's Bagels building at Sunnyside Avenue and France Avenue. If addresses haven't changed, Joyce's Bakery is in the same space as Gear Running store is today. (See Google street view image below of the corner.)
At some point in the 1960s, Joyce sold the business. The new owner kept the name and many of the same products. I met the new owner at our Morningside exhibit in 2005 and he told me that he couldn't stay in business after shopping trends changed; shoppers bought bread and rolls during their regular supermarket trip rather than running a separate errand to shop at Joyce's.
When I followed up to find out more information and photos, his phone number was disconnected. Years later, the original owner's granddaughter Liz Welch emailed me this week with today's great photo and she promises more to come. I may wait until a Friday to show them here, but we may have a "Photo Monday" or "Photo Tuesday" in our future!
What do you remember about Joyce's Bakery? We have received some great comments on our Facebook page:
Edina bought its first police car in 1930 -- all black (because that was the only option available.). After authorization from the Village Council, first police officer Percy Redpath spent extra money to have "Village of Edina" lettering on the doors.
Eighty-three years later, Edina's police squad design will feature a black car body with lettering on the door, a throwback to its origins after many years brighter colored accents and a white roof.. Edina Police Chief Jeff Long announced the change in the city's blog, noting, "From the mid-1940s all the way to 1990, our squad cars had only a patch or badge on the door. In keeping with history, we have chosen to return to our roots and place a simple patch on our car."
Long also showed photos of past car designs: "Department history is very important to those of us who work here. If you have ever taken a tour here you have noticed the incredible job that department historian Officer Kevin Rofidal has done to keep our history alive."
So true. We worked with Kevin a few years back in creating an exhibit about Edina Police and Fire Departments' history and put together this timeline of squad design and technology history. Besides some great old photos, it also contains some fun facts like:
You couldn't open a newspaper in early April without seeing a story about the death of Jerry Paulsen, owner of several Edina businesses including Jerry's Foods, Jerry's Hardware and Jerry's Printing.
But unless you're one of Jerry's 3,700 employees, you probably missed one of the most in-depth looks at Jerry's long life and involvement in the Edina community: a full issue of the company newsletter was devoted to the man who gave his life and his name to so many businesses.
"I felt I couldn’t do him justice with just an article in the newsletter so decided to devote the entire edition to him," said Carol Jackson, Jerry's Foods Corporate Manager.
The newsletter is in our collection, but I've had so many requests to see more Jerry's photos that I asked Carol for a pdf for our online audience. See the photo pages below, and you can read the full newsletter here.
These are just a few of the stories written about Jerry Paulsen, who died April 5, 2013, at age 89.
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