By Peg Guilfoyle, Molly LaBerge Taylor ● 2019
We remember it as a time of great energy and excitement in the city, when it seemed that anything could be accomplished, and everyone was ready to pitch in. It…
By Robert Tilsen, Noah Tilsen ● 2019
as interviewed by Noah Tilsen I was born in January 1925. My father and mother, Edward and Esther Tilsen, thought it would be too difficult to get a doctor in…
By Louis DiSanto ● 2019
When I turned ten in April of 1958, I thought I was pretty wise to the ways of the world, especially when it came to adults, girls, trading marbles and…
Doc Bozeman tried to concentrate on that bullet—black and glistening with blood—and not on the fact that it was lodged in John Dillinger’s shoulder. Muscle and tissue gripped it like the gangster didn’t want to give it up, and Bozeman maneuvered to get a grip with his forceps.
Dorothy Day and I go way back. Granted, I never met her, but I can’t help but feel a connection after volunteering every third Saturday for the past twenty years at the Dorothy Day Center in downtown Saint Paul.
Billy Peterson has left his impression on Saint Paul baseball for more than five decades.
I was seven years old, in second grade, and tired on a daily basis. Most mornings I arrived at Highland Elementary School after limited sleep. I was robbed of sleep by…
The “sizzling sixties” stands out as one of the most dramatic seachanging decades in the annals of American political and social history.
Hi there! Everyone talks about the good old days—how they used to be—what a difference from today. Remember when gas was 25¢ a gallon? And cigarettes 26¢ a box with a 1¢ tax? Wow!
Pig’s Eye Island owes its name to a nineteenth-century trader, Pig’s Eye Parrant, who sold liquor and guns along the Mississippi’s watery highway.
I grew up in the Dale-Selby neighborhood of Saint Paul. To be more exact, we lived in the upstairs of a duplex just off the corner of Dayton and St. Albans, one block from Dale and one block from Selby.
Art by Maya Rose
By Martin Devaney ● 2016
Where I first put my arm around you. Clad in red coats and autumn hats, we walked from the Farmers’ Market, bags of basil in hand, then arm in arm. The dog waited.