April

By Diego Vázquez Jr., April 2, 2012
(Photo: Tobechi Tobechukwu)

nature abhors
taxation
as does the
populace...

FacebookTwitterDiggDeliciousMySpaceYahoo BookmarksBlogger PostGoogle BookmarksLinkedInPosterousTechnorati FavoritesStumbleUponShare
Print This Post Print This Post

Pig's Eye Island Adventure

By Cynthia Schreiner Smith, March 28, 2012
Cynthia (right) and her sister on the way to Pig’s Eye Island City Dump (Photo courtesy of Cynthia Schreiner Smith)

When I was growing up near Mounds Park during the fifties and sixties, fresh milk was delivered to our stoop like clockwork; however, no one came to haul away the refuse. A big, rusty metal drum in our back yard received the trash instead. When it got full, my father lit it on fire. Items you couldn’t burn—bottles, cans, old plastic toys—were driven to the Pig’s Eye Island City Dump. My brother almost always got to go with Dad to the dump, a fact that he lorded over his little sisters. But sometimes we got to go too.

FacebookTwitterDiggDeliciousMySpaceYahoo BookmarksBlogger PostGoogle BookmarksLinkedInPosterousTechnorati FavoritesStumbleUponShare
Print This Post Print This Post

Keys Café

By Arlo Beckman, March 28, 2012
Keys Café in downtown Saint Paul. Keys is also on Raymond Avenue. (Photo: Henry Jackson)

When I lived in California, my favorite restaurant was Tomatina’s. Then I moved to Minnesota, and I went to Keys. Keys is on Raymond Avenue, and it is my favorite breakfast restaurant in Minnesota! Usually, we only go there for special events. Once, my friends from California visited us, and we went to Keys. That was the second time I had been there, and it was better than the first time.

FacebookTwitterDiggDeliciousMySpaceYahoo BookmarksBlogger PostGoogle BookmarksLinkedInPosterousTechnorati FavoritesStumbleUponShare
Print This Post Print This Post

Oreo Cookie

By Ms. Patricia Black, March 28, 2012
Patricia Black at Aurora/St. Anthony Neighborhood Development Corporation offices. (Photo: Deborah Torraine)

I am proud to make Saint Paul my home, as I feel the African American people of Saint Paul are strong, proud people. The first sixteen years of my life were spent in Minneapolis in a poor White neighborhood. My siblings and I were the only Black children in the schools we attended. Yes, there was a great deal of prejudice in our community. Little children don’t know hate; they have to be taught. Even though my White friends’ parents may not have liked their children being friends with us, most of them accepted it because they loved their children more than they hated us.

FacebookTwitterDiggDeliciousMySpaceYahoo BookmarksBlogger PostGoogle BookmarksLinkedInPosterousTechnorati FavoritesStumbleUponShare
Print This Post Print This Post

How Max Shulman Got to College

By Steve Trimble, March 28, 2012
“Centennial gesture”; men for whom certain Minnesota lakes were named: Max Shulman, Daniel D. Mich, Herman Salisbury, Sig Michelson with Governor Orville Freeman. (Photo courtesy Minnesota Historical Society)

Max Shulman (1919–1988) grew up in a Jewish community in Saint Paul’s Selby-Dale neighborhood. After graduating from Central High School, he earned a journalism degree from the University of Minnesota. His writings were invariably humorous and were published in novels and magazines. He eventually became a successful writer for theater and television. His novel Potatoes are Cheaper was a portrayal of life in the city in the late 1930s. Extract from Max Shulman, Potatoes Are Cheaper (Doubleday and Company, 1971): 1–4, 23.

FacebookTwitterDiggDeliciousMySpaceYahoo BookmarksBlogger PostGoogle BookmarksLinkedInPosterousTechnorati FavoritesStumbleUponShare
Print This Post Print This Post

Meridel LeSueur Recalls Swede Hollow Before Prohibition

By Patrick Coleman, March 21, 2012
Keg delivery wagon, Hamm’s Brewery (Photo courtesy Minnesota Historical Society)

Patrick Coleman writes: "LeSueur was perhaps Minnesota’s most famous proletarian writer, so it is not surprising that she wrote about the humble people of Saint Paul’s Swede Hollow. The following selection was written during Prohibition, ushered in by passage of the Volstead Act in 1919." Extract from Meridel LeSueur, “Beer Town,” Life in the United States: A Collection of Narratives of Contemporary American Life from First-Hand Experience or Observation (Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1933); pages 31–33, 40.

FacebookTwitterDiggDeliciousMySpaceYahoo BookmarksBlogger PostGoogle BookmarksLinkedInPosterousTechnorati FavoritesStumbleUponShare
Print This Post Print This Post

Life in the United States and Life in My Country

By Paw Ree Say, March 20, 2012
"Immigrants", painted by Peter Wedin, 1894-1980. (Photo courtesy Minnesota Historical Society)

When I arrived at the airport my sister and her family came to the airport to pick up my family, and when I saw them, they said “Welcome to Saint Paul.” My first surprise was the snow. Before I came to the United States, I heard people talk about snowfall. I thought, if I go to America, I will eat snow and I don’t need to do anything—just put it in a cup and mix it with sugar and milk, and then we can eat it, because in my country we eat ice a lot in the summer. But in the U.S., no one eats snow.

FacebookTwitterDiggDeliciousMySpaceYahoo BookmarksBlogger PostGoogle BookmarksLinkedInPosterousTechnorati FavoritesStumbleUponShare
Print This Post Print This Post