RAMSEY COUNTY The Bungalow Craze And How It Swept

A Publication o f the Ramsey County Historical Society The Twin Cities— Page 15 Winter, 1996 Volume 30, Number 4 St. Paul Curling Club’s Colorful History

The St. Paul Curling Club in 1892, a sketch by T. de Thulstrup for Harper’s Weekly. See page 4 for the history of curling in S t Paul. RAMSEY COUNTY HISTORY Executive Director Priscilla Famham Editor Virginia Brainard Kunz WARREN SCHABER 1 9 3 3 - 1 9 9 5 RAMSEY COUNTY HISTORICAL SOCIETY The Ramsey County Historical Society lost a BOARD OF DIRECTORS good friend when Ramsey County Commis­ Joanne A. Englund sioner Warren Schaber died last October Chairman of the Board at the age of sixty-two. John M. Lindley CONTENTS The Society came President to know him well Laurie Zehner 3 Letters during the twenty First Vice President years he served on Judge Margaret M. Mairinan the Board of Ramsey Second Vice President 4 Bonspiels, Skips, Rinks, Brooms, and Heavy Ice County Commission­ Richard A. Wilhoit St. Paul Curling Club and Its Century-old History Secretary ers. We were warmed James Russell Jane McClure by his steady support Treasurer of the Society and its work. Arthur Baumeister, Jr., Alexandra Bjorklund, 15 The Bungalows of the Twin Cities, With a Look Mary Bigelow McMillan, Andrew Boss, A thoughtful Warren We remember the Thomas Boyd, Mark Eisenschenk, Howard At the Craze that Created Them in St. Paul Schaber at his first County big things: the long Guthmann, John Harens, Marshall Hatfield, Board meeting, January 6, series of badly- Liz Johnson, George Mairs, III, Mary Bigelow Brian McMahon 1975. Photo courtesy of Jan Geisen, Ramsey County needed restoration McMillan, Laurie Murphy, Richard T. Murphy, Records manager. Sr., Thomond O’Brien, Robert Olsen, Sally projects at the Gibbs Robins, Vicenta Scarlett, Evangeline Schroeder, 19 Growing Up in St. Paul Farm Museum, which Charles Williams, Jr., Anne Cowie Wilson. Down St. Albans Hill in a Wooden Coaster Wagon he steadfastly supported, both as chair of the County Board’s Finance Committee and as EDITORIAL BOARD Arthur Me Watt John M. Lindley, chairman; Thomas H. chair of the board itself. We also remember Boyd, Thomas C. Buckley, Laurie M. the little things, such as the time squirrels, Murphy, Dr. Thomas B. Mega. 23 Books, Etc. trapped in the school house, chewed through the window sills and emergency funds were HONORARY ADVISORY BOARD Seth Eastman, A Portfolio of North American Indians desperately needed for repairs. That brought a Elmer L. Andersen, Olivia I. Dodge, Charlton Dietz, William Finney, Clarence Dahkotah, or Life and Legends of the Sioux Around chuckle from Commissioner Schaber as he Frame, Otis Godfrey, Jr., Ronald Hachey, Fort Snelling supported our request. Reuel D. Harmon, Robert S. Hess, Ronald While he was skilled at directing the M. Hubbs, Fred T. Lanners, Jr., Don Larson, Reviewed by Colles Baxter County’s budgetary process, he also was a George Latimer, Lewis Lehr, David Mars- den, Robert B. Mirick, Samuel H. Morgan, warm, generous man who understood the role Marvin J. Pertzik, J. Jerome Plunkett, Peter history should play in the community he S. Popovich, James Reagan, Rosalie E. A Message from the Editorial Board served so well. One of his great loves was the Wahl, Donald D. Wozniak. City Hall/County Courthouse, and he was amily roots are an important part of the texture of history in St. Paul and Ramsey RAMSEY COUNTY COMMISIONERS the driving force behind the $48 million FCounty. Recently the Board of Directors of the Ramsey County Historical Society restoration of that art deco jewel where he Commissioner Hal Norgard, chairman learned that the late Mary Daggett Sheehan (Mrs. Cyril Sheehan) made a bequest to the Commissioner Susan Haigh spent his political life. For our part, we Society in her will in memory of her grandparents, Daniel W. and Mary Collins Kelly. Commissioner John Finley documented the restoration, as well as the Commissioner Rafael Ortega Bom in Ireland in 1839, Daniel Kelly came to the United States about 1844. Initially he Commissioner Richard O’Connor history of the Courthouse itself, in the Fall, Commissioner Brenda Thomas and his brothers lived in New Jersey, but four Kelly brothers, including Daniel, mi­ Commissioner Richard Wedell grated to St. Paul in 1856. There Kelly completed high school and then worked as a 1993, issue of Ramsey County History. He also was instrumental in negotiating Terry Schütten, manager, Ramsey County contractor hauling supplies to the West. Later he was successful in the hotel, real estate, and insurance business. Daniel Kelly died in 1922. with West Publishing to have the current Ramsey County History is published quarterly Government Center West building donated to by the Ramsey County Historical Society, 323 The Ramsey County Historical Society greatly appreciates the generosity of Mrs. Mary Ramsey County. The center houses Ramsey Landmark Center, 75 W. Fifth Street, St. Paul, D. Sheehan. The lead article in this issue of our magazine tells the story of the St. Paul County’s records, whose preservation is of Minn. 55102 (612-222-0706). Printed in Curling Club. Given the population of St. Paul in the 1880s, many of the early members U.S.A. Copyright, 1996, Ramsey County His­ of the Curling Club probably knew Daniel Kelly as a business associate. Together the immense importance to historians. torical Society. ISSN Number 0485-9758. All Warren Schaber was, in the words of John rights reserved. No part of this publication memory of Daniel Kelly and our article recall a prosperous era in St. Paul's history that may be reprinted or otherwise reproduced could enthusiastically support the formation of a sporting institution such as the Curling Finley, his fellow commissioner, “. . . the best without written permission from the pub­ Club just over a century ago. of what you see in Ramsey County and St. lisher. The Society assumes no responsibility Paul.” He epitomized what people think of for statements made by contributors. John M. Lindley, chairman, Editorial Board Minnesotans, and he will be missed. V. B. K.

2 RAMSEY COUNTY HISTORY Growing Up in St. Paul Down St. Albans Hill in a Wooden Coaster Wagon

Arthur C. Me Watt

y elementary school years were seem too friendly, and a boy named Aces, in 1934, included Buddy, who was spent on the edge of St. Paul’s Hugh. At recess, Hugh informed me that eleven; Louis, who was ten; and Bennie, Frogtown neighborhood, in a he was going to “pull those curls right out who was nine. We had a few honorary M of your head after school!” When school- members we called upon for special as­ house on Sherburne Avenue near Grotto. It had been built by my grandfather in was out, I hit the playground running, signments, such as make-up ballgames, 1900, and since my mother had the most and he was right behind me. I took a direct but at eight, I was the youngest, the only children in her family, grandmother sold route home through yards and between person of color, and probably the weak­ it to her when grandfather died. houses. My mother called the school the est. I was always the last picked for Ours was a predominantly German next day and the bullying ended. Later, make-up baseball teams and once when Catholic neighborhood, and we were sur­ Hugh and I became friends, and I often there was a tie, my so-called friends sim­ rounded by Becks, Orths, Kellers, Rock- visited his house on University near St. ply “gave me” to the other side. lizts, Schmidts, Winslades, Ruperts, and Albans. Our sisters were good friends. Most of our games were played on an Zellers. I was the third child, with two My first girlfriend, Alice, lived next empty lot on University between Milton sisters, Martha and Carolyn, who were door when I was five. We played in each and Chatsworth. It really was out of our nine and five years older than I, and a other’s backyards, but one day we crossed territory, and one day some older boys brother, Randolph, who was four years Grotto to chase butterflies and grasshop­ chased us with rotten fruit, and a special younger. pers in the empty lot on the comer of epithet for me, back to the east side of My earliest recollection was riding in University. After our run, we relieved Victoria. I was hit with a rotten cantelope an old wooden coaster wagon down the ourselves and satisfied our curiosity in and Louis got part of a Watermelon. After St. Albans hill, between Central and Fuller the tall grass, then raced back across that we played in an empty lot or walked Avenues, with my younger sister sitting Grotto to watch flies die on the electric to the Minnehaha Playgrounds. behind me steering and yelling. She didn’t screens on the windows of Consumer Sometimes Louis, Benny, and I would seem to have the slightest concern as to Milk Company. The screens sparkled and hang out at Engine Company #18 on the how we were going to stop at the bottom crackled as they did their murderous comer of St. Albans and University. We’d of the hill. We would careen around the work. The following week-end Alice was run errands for the firemen. If everyone comer on two wheels, or zoom across nowhere to be found. I had enjoyed our left when the alarm bell range, we’d close Fuller, hoping no traffic was coming. afternoon gambol and wondered why her the doors, race up the stairs, and slide I also had concerns for my safety mother ended our friendship. down the poles. There was an art to that; when I rode up that hill with my father. In the second grade I found that I was you had to wrap your arms around the At the top there was a through stop sign. a good student but was challenged as pole but not let your tennis shoes touch it. Dad would hold his foot on the brake, class leader by a boy named Roger. We Then we’d mn down, open the doors, and then shift into first. The car would bal­ took school very seriously and we began wait for our returning heroes. ance momentarily, then start rolling a competition to see who would be the In the fall we played football on Mr. backward before it finally roared over the smartest boy in the class. I decided I Phillipi’s lot. His twelve-year-old daugh­ top. That precarious pause always seemed needed some help, so I sought divine ter, Patty, often joined us. In the winter to make my heart beat faster. guidance and prayed every night that I we skiied down the slopes of the huge I started kindergarten at Benjamin would be the smartest boy in school. The sand pits on Victoria, between Blair and Drew school in 1931 and basked in the next year I was further encouraged by Minnehaha, and sometimes we’d sneak warmth and kindness of Mrs. Harholdt, Mrs. Lavoir, who wore silk dresses and over the fence to ski down the slopes of our teacher. Her story-telling was won­ heavenly perfume. I was love-struck, and the House of the Good Shepherd. Often derful. I enjoyed singing and getting stars sought her assistance at every turn as I we’d skate twice a day—on the week­ for good work, and I remember the many enjoyed the fragrance that enveloped me ends sometimes three times a day—at hours we spent building structures with when she bent over me. Minnehaha Playgrounds. In the evening, large cardboard blocks. There were two Between the ages of eight to ten, I was when the older boys had finished practic­ other African American children in the kind of a “fair employment” member of ing on the hockey rink, we’d put maga­ class: a girl named Leatrice, who didn’t the Sherburne Aces. Besides me, the zines in our stockings so we could play

RAMSEY COUNTY HISTORY 19 hockey, too. I’d often come home with frost-bitten fingers and toes. I remember my mother getting up around six o’clock every winter morning and shuffling down to the basement to shake down the furnace fire that had been banked for the night. She’d shovel the ashes into large corrogated tubs. Then she shoveled in new coal. By 7 a.m. the house had warmed up and all of us crawled out of bed to dress. In the summer, with our windows open, I’d be awakened by the banging of milk cans as farmers brought their milk to be processed at Consumers Milk Com­ pany. I’d lie in bed and listen to the cans being trundled into the building on their roller chutes and emerge again empty to be loudly stacked in the trucks. Of course the Depression was in full bloom in 1934.1 remember being sent to First grade classmates at Benjamin Drew School in 1932. The author is on the left, top row. the butcher on Edmund Street to buy a Next to him is Hugh. The not-too-friendly Leatrice is third from left in the third row. All pho­ soup bone for fifteen cents or a quarter— tographs are from the author. and hope there was a little meat on it. Soup, made with peas, carrots, and pota­ toes, was one of our main meals and my University Avenue looking for junk. We have ice cream and cake. mother would often supplement it with a came down through the skylight and My father had been a British subject in piece of lemon or peach pie or apple cob­ found a large cache of old wire and brass Guyana and had never quite become bler. Weekly fare also included stew, fittings and some aluminum, which was completely Americanized, so I missed spaghetti and wieners, macaroni and highly prized. Looking behind the bar going to baseball and football games with cheese, and cabbage and carrots. On Sun­ and wondering if the electricity had been him. We did go swimming a lot, and fish­ day we might have chicken, or something turned off, I opened the switch box and ing occasionally. Since he was a Pullman my father brought home, such as salmon pulled down the lever. The next thing I porter, I missed him a good deal of my from Seattle, or various parts of the pig. knew I was thrown five feet backward life. He seemed to be on the road more Our evening meal would be peanut butter against the bar. I must have touched some days than he was home. sandwiches, a piece of cake, and a glass of the metal. After a few anxious min­ The Sherburne Aces, however, were of milk. utes, I recovered and we left hastily the avid baseball fans. Some weekdays we’d The Sherburne Aces spent part of their way we came—through the skylight. arrive at the Lexington Ball Park an hour summers during those Depression years Some Saturdays we went to the Como before the game, climb to the roof of the “junking”—collecting aluminum, brass, Theatre on University, between Kent and Coliseum and lie there motionless, sur­ copper, even paper. Their worth was in Mackubin and watched Tim McCoy, veying the park. Then one-by-one we’d descending order and prices, of course, Buck Jones, or the latest chapter of “Rin- walk the wall adjoining the ballpark. It fluctuated with the market. The returns tin-tin.” Sometimes there was a promo­ had barbed wire projecting out on each represented most of our spending money tion, and cereal tops or coffee can covers side. When we reached the bleachers, during those hard times. We would ex­ would get us in on a special Saturday we’d jump down and go under them to plore alleys and search through trash we morning show. the grandstand tunnel, flatten ourselves found behind business firms and people’s At least one Sunday a month, we’d against the wall and walk quietly through homes. We would strip the coating off take the Model A down University Av­ to the grandstand. There we would wait copper wire to prepare it for the junk enue, past Seven Comers to Washington until about the second inning when we man, who usually came once a week with Avenue, over the First Avenue bridge would seek out a box or reserved seat. On his old horse and wagon. He would haul and onto Sixth Avenue North (now Olsen Saturdays, of course, we were charter out his scale, weigh our metals and pay Memorial Highway). We’d visit my Aunt members of the Knot Hole Gang and us our nickles and dimes according to the Bridie, Aunt Bessie, Aunt Ethel, or Aunt broiled in the bleachers. From 1934 to going rate (which we usually checked). Rebecca, and our only cousin, George 1937, the St. Paul Saints’ standings were Once we climbed a telephone pole to (who was rarely there). We’d spend most in the American Association basement, enter a recently abandoned night club on of the afternoon there and sometimes but they were still our heroes. Our idols

20 RAMSEY COUNTY HISTORY were catcher Angelo Guiliani, first base- and I would wait outside until they were garage because it wouldn’t start. Freddie man Phil Todt, and centerfielder Larry finished. Some of the things they should Rocklitz told us that if we could get some Rosenthal. have confessed to was walking over the gasoline and a battery, he thought he could Bob Boken, the third baseman, lived forty-foot arches of the Robert Street get it started. Benny and his cousin man­ on the comer of Sherburne and Avon and bridge and climbing on the backs of the aged to “find” a new battery and some we made him an honorary Sherburne Ace. golden horses on the Capitol dome—ac­ gasoline behind a motorboat store, and we After the game we’d hang around the cording to what they told me, at any rate. talked Freddie into a Saturday afternoon door of the locker room and collect auto­ Some Sunday afternoons we visited alley cruise. Freddie didn’t have a license, graphs. Vince DiMaggio, who played the used car lots behind our houses on and the car’s license plates were three with Kansas City, was my favorite. University and listened to “Swing and years old, but he insisted on driving. By July 151 was putting cardboard in Sway with Sammy Kaye” and “The After installing the battery and pour­ my tennis shoes and by the end of August Smooth Rhythms of Guy Lombardo” on ing in the gasoline, we all piled in. Fred­ there usually was more cardboard than die started the motor and eased out of the there was sole. Some Saturdays we hitch­ garage. The motor stalled after about a hiked on trucks from Victoria to the Mid­ hundred feet, right behind the St. Paul way area and back. In the winter I would Police Dispatcher Station behind Engine hitch cars coming out of our alleys and Company #18. We dropped to the floor slide down Grotto to Thomas hanging on while Freddy and Buddy jumped out and their bumpers, my thick-soled clodhop­ opened the hood. After a seemingly end­ pers acting as skids. less wait, they got the engine started again • During State Fair Week we would and off we went, bouncing along the hitch trains north of Minnehaha Play­ alley until we reached Western Avenue. grounds, where they sometimes slowed After some discussion, we decided to down at the Dale Street bridge, and ride take the Charles Avenue alley as the re­ them out to Snelling Avenue, where they turn route. Back home, Freddie’s mother usually slowed down again. We’d jump was sweeping her back stoop. When she off and walk to the fairgrounds. We could saw us, her mouth dropped open and we sneak in and because we were so thin we The house on Sherburne Avenue, near sensed that Freddie was in big trouble. could squeeze through the bars. In 1934 Grotto. We helped him back the car into the we sneaked into the grandstand as well, garage and quietly disappeared. It was and that required agility, speed, and split- die last we saw of Freddie that summer. second timing. It was one of my finest the car radios. We found we could move On those long summer evenings, we’d moments as an eight-year-old. the cars back and forth by putting them in play “Duck on the Rock,” a version of Our goal was to see the tremendous gear and stepping on their starters. Of “Cricket” and “Two O’ Cat,” in our alley race car duels between Gus Schrader and course, both manuevers ran down their until it got dark and a cacophony of Emory Collins, who always thrilled the batteries and sometimes a watchman mother’s voices filled the air. I’d be in by crowds with their daring driving skills. would try to catch us, but we always 7:30 and we’d be allowed to read for a The following year, security was in­ eluded him. One Sunday morning, Ben­ hour, or listen to the radio. creased and we had to pay to see the nie and his cousin, Eddie, decided to up­ Wedding receptions were big events races. Another important event that year grade vehicular movement. They ran two for all the neighborhood kids because of was seeing John Dillinger’s get-away car streetcars together at the car bams on the possibility of a chivaree. To save on display. University and Snelling. They were money, many receptions were held at the The hitching of trains also ended in caught and took an involuntary trip to the bride’s home and after the ceremony the 1935 when a train failed to slow down at Boys Farm. Fortunately, while they were children would gather outside with cans the Dale Street bridge. One by one we doing this, I was serving at the altar at St. filled with stones and pots to bang on to jumped and rolled in the gravel, but Philips Episcopal Church. make a racket. The shaking and banging Buddy continued to hang on. Finally, he The Rocklitz brothers were the two would increase until the groom and best flung himself down an embankment just “mad scientists” on our block. They were man threw coins and candy to the throng before the train reached the bridge. He about fifteen and seventeen years old and outside. rolled over and over in the gravel. He had spent a great deal of time in their base­ Every summer I retained my racial some scratches and small cuts, but other­ ment carrying on chemical experiments. identity by attending a two-week summer wise he was all right. Both of the brothers were very intelli­ camp sponsored by Hallie Q. Brown One Saturday a month I would accom­ gent and loved science. Most of their Community House on Kent and Aurora. pany Louis and Benny to St. Agnes chemicals came from Chicago via mail My first camp, when I was eight, was Catholic Church for their monthly con­ order. Their father had died and left their Camp Rock, somewhere on the St. Croix fession. It was a German-speaking parish, mother a 1932 Packard that sat in the River. We had a wonderful leader, Joe

RAMSEY COUNTY HISTORY 21 Harpole, and our swimming instructor eagerly awaited the publication of John was Rudy Grimitra, star halfback for the Gunther’s Inside Europe. Golden Gophers, national champions After Ardyce there was Ruthie. Our that fall. Much of the day was organized, romance had lasted only a month when a but we often had afternoons to ourselves. Golden Glove aspirant named Cyrus lay Once we found a five-foot bull snake in wait for me one night and warned me which two instructors could barely hold. to stay away from her. I knew Cyrus from On a hike, we came across a dead man the Boy Scouts, from which he’d been lying beside the trail. A blanket of se­ expelled. We walked toward St. Albans crecy was immediately thrown up and we hill discussing the matter. When I told never heard a word about it. him she had a right to decide, he threw a The next two years I spent at St. John’s left hook on my blind side and the lights Landing near Shakopee. It wasn’t as nice went out. When I came to, I told him it a camp as Camp Rock, but I had good was a cheap shot and went home. I de­ friends there from St. Philips Church: cided that, in the interest of good health, I Larry, Norm, and Gene. should look elsewhere for companionship. That fall when I was ten and entering Sherburne Aces Louis and Buddy gardening. In 1939, when I was thirteen, we spent fifth grade, I was called to the office by a lot of time at the movies. That was the the principal, Mrs. Dunne. She told me year for some of Hollywood’s greatest she and her staff had decided that both delicious dinners of my life. films. One of my favorites was “Tarzan.” I Benny and I—the two smartest students Larry and I played basketball at the was thrilled by Johnny Weissmuller’s dar­ in school, she said—should skip fifth Hallie Q. Brown House the following ing feats, and my curiosity was aroused grade because we were academically summer. That fall we joined the Cub by Maureen O’Sullivan’s costume, which ready for sixth. I had mixed feelings. My Scouts, who were led by a man named I suspected had certain inadequacies. immediate regret was that my prayers Duke Corum, a pleasant, conscientious, After a third viewing of the film, I felt my had been restricted to gender. My mother caring man. He took us on hikes and suspicions had been confirmed. I left the felt I might miss something by skipping a camp-outs and we swam at the YMCA theater feeling that it was a matter I grade, but she went along with the rec­ (but only on Wednesdays because the should immediately bring to the attention ommendation. I later found, in math, that “Y” was still segregated). The boys all of my fellow patrol leaders. I had indeed missed something and my admired Duke Corum. Our den became In front of the theater was a police car mother had been right. one of the best in the city and we always with two officers leaning against it. They The 1936 new year ushered in a year had to turn away boys who wanted to join. asked me my name. I soon discovered of extremes, with temperatures plunging W hen! was twelve, I joined the Boy that my mother had been worried about to 36 degrees below zero that winter, ris­ Scouts and again I was blessed with a my prolonged absence and had asked the ing to above 100 for ten days straight that wonderful leader—Mr. Manning, dedi­ police to conduct a neighborhood search. summer, and topping off at 114. The ice cated, fair, always willing to lend a help­ I rode home that night in the squad car. house on Grotto was soon sold out and ing hand, and the kind of man I wanted to At the end of the summer, I thought of my sister and I ranged far and wide with be when I grew up. A good judge of char­ the nine A’s I’d received in June and how our coaster wagon trying to find ice to acter, he also chose good patrol leaders. little that would mean when I entered keep our food from spoiling in our ice We learned camping skills, and we had Mechanic Arts High School. I would no box. I’d try to sleep with pajamas and overnights and camp-outs. We learned longer be “big man on the playground” sheets soaked with perspiration. The knot-tieing,compass-reading, map-reading, but a lowly freshman in a huge school. I Faust Theatre, which was cooled by arte­ and how to build a fire without matches. realized my formative years were almost sian water, provided a haven for some. That summer I got my first two-wheel over but, as I looked back on them, I felt Three hundred people in Minnesota died bike, and it certainly expanded my range they had truly been happy days. that summer from heat-related causes. of activities. My friends and I took trips In 1937 the Sherburne Aces disbanded to Indian Mounds Park, the Battle Creek Arthur Me Watt went on to graduate from and I began to spend time with Larry, an ski slide, Harriet Island, and the Como the University of Minnesota with a bach­ African American boy who lived on Park Golf Course where we occasionally elor’s degree in education and social Charles, between Dale and Kent. We caddied. studies and a master’s degree in history. both were altar boys at St. Philips. I’d At school that fall, romance arrived. He also did graduate work at the East- often go home with him after church as Ardyce was from Czechoslovakia, and I West Center at the University o f Hawaii. he had a nice pool table and all the began walking her home. Her father was He retired in 1989 after teaching history newest games. After our games, the pool concerned about getting his parents out and social studies for thirty-three years table would be converted into a dining of Europe, and this really sparked my in the St. Paul school system, twenty-five room table where I ate some of the most first interest in the study of history. I o f those years at Johnson High School.

22 RAMSEY COUNTY HISTORY