Sample Minnesota newspaper articles, photos and ads dating back more than 140 years. Fresh items are posted weekly. Go here for tips on how to track down old newspaper articles on your own. Follow the blog on Twitter. Or check out "Minnesota Mysteries," a new book based on the blog.
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In the 1950s, before pro football and major league baseball arrived in the Twin Cities, pro wrestling had a place on the sports pages of the local newspapers. The story below is from the Minneapolis Morning Tribune.
There’s a lot to admire about old-time pro wrestling. As far as I know, grapplers did not use steroids or demand new arenas at public expense. But I can’t get the rules straight. It was legal to give your opponent a ferocious eye gouge, sleeper hold or pile driver. But rub a little salt in the eye? That was cheating.
RIP, Verne Gagne. The pro wrestling legend died this week at age 89, surrounded by his family in Minnesota.
|Verne Gagne in about 1953.|
Marjorie Burns, a young reporter for the Minneapolis Star in the late 1930s, excelled at an offbeat beat. She tried out scores of occupations – clown, lion tamer, stewardess, farmer, ballerina — and wrote about them. Her first-person accounts were engaging, funny and often insightful. She also covered society news, interviewed movie stars and occasionally wrote about fishing.
Marjorie BurnsBurns left the paper in 1940 to marry John Shanard, later a Cargill executive, and moved to Washington, D.C. She went on to play leadership roles in state Republican politics, helped plan a Republican state convention and headed former Laker George Mikan’s congressional campaign. She died in May 2006 at age 92.
|This little bather from about 1935, identified in the archived caption as the “Nascher baby,” looks like she had plenty to sing about. (Photo courtesy of mnhs.org)|
An editorial in the Minneapolis Sunday Tribune:
|A 1912 wedding portrait of Mr. and Mrs. Chris Tormandsen gives little indication of how the bride or groom might vote. (Photo courtesy mnhs.org)|
As efforts to ban the sale and consumption of alcohol gained steam in the early 1900s, liquor interests banded together to tell their side of the story. One group, the South Dakota Retail Liquor Dealers Association, published a newspaper supplement, Both Sides, which appeared in the Minneapolis Journal in October 1914. The eight-page insert consisted of essays, light feature stories ripped from the wires and lots and lots of liquor ads. This piece by G.K. Chesterton, the celebrated British writer and lay theologian, originally appeared in the Illustrated London News.
The Famous English Essayist Ridicules the American Form of Prohibiting the Use of Liquors.
I am glad to see that the protests are beginning to rise against those crazy exaggerations of the philanthropists, who are always wanting us to sacrifice the natural to the unnatural and the certain to the possible. Our social reformers have a wonderful way of manufacturing fifty fresh vices in the pretence of suppressing one.
For instance, there is the maze of immorality that spreads whenever a state attempts the ridiculous experiment called 'total prohibition." I was told by a friend who had traveled in what the Americans called a 'dry state," that his innocent request for a glass of whisky in a hotel had been answered by radiant and animated directions as to where he would find "the hat room." His first feeling was that the hat room was the headquarters of the Mad Hatter, who evidently ran the hotel. His second was a dim speculation as to how whisky tasted when drunk out of a hat. At last it occurred to him that "hat room" was American for what we commonly call "cloak room," but even then he could not imagine what it had to do with whisky.
He soon found out; for everything was quite ready, and the custom was clearly in full swing. In the cloak room were stored a number of strapped trunks and suit cases labeled in the name of various fictitious American citizens and crammed with bottles of beer, wine or spirits. From these he was handsomely regaled; and the trunk was then strapped up again, so that if the police entered that temple of abstinence, the management could profess ignorance of the contents of luggage left in its charge. Now, suppose my friend had drunk four times as much whisky as he wanted and rolled dead drunk down the front steps of the hotel, could he have fallen lower than the lowness of that exquisite legal fiction?
See what a number of new sins the "dry state" succeeds in creating in the course of failing to cure that of drunkenness. The man going to the hat room has all the drunkenness he wants with the following agreeable additions:
1. He has become a liar; calling things by false names and doing one thing while pretending to do another.
2. He has become a rebel and bad citizen, intriguing against the law of his country and the efficiency of its public service.
3. He has become a coward, shrinking through personal fear of consequences from acts of which he is not morally ashamed.
4. He has become a seducer and a bad example, bribing other men to soil their own simplicity and dignity.
5. He has become a most frightful fool, playing a part in an ignominious antic from which his mere physical self respect would hardly recover.
6. He has, in all probability, come much nearer than he would in any other way to having a craving for alcohol. For anything sought with such horrible secrecy and pertinacity has a great tendency to become magnetic and irresistible in itself; a sort of fetish. And all that brought about in order to prevent a man getting a glass of whisky — which he gets after all. People who support such prohibitions can have no care for human morality at all.
Minneapolis native Patty Berg, who took up golf at age 14 and went on to win 88 pro and amateur tournaments, was a founding member of the Ladies Professional Golf Association. In this story, the Minneapolis Star caught up with her for an interview at her parents’ home two days after she won her first national title, the U.S. Women’s Amateur. She was 20 years old.
Patty Berg Gets Some Rest
Liked the campaign, but likes to get home to her own bed.
FRIENDSHIPS While Playing More Fun Than CHAMPIONSHIPS, Says Patty After Her Biggest Year
She has fashioned the greatest win streak in the history of women’s golf in these United States.
She has started 13 times this year and come home a winner 10 times.
She performed a feat Saturday equaled by only two others.
She won the National Women's golf title by a 6 and 5 score just after turning the corner into the adventuresome twenties.
But all Patty wanted to talk about was the mechanics of registration at the University of Minnesota.
|At age 20, Patty Berg hoisted a trophy that looked more like a beer stein after winning the U.S. Women’s Amateur title at Westmoreland Country Club in Wilmette, Ill., in September 1938.|
Tomorrow she will move to the university along with some 1,500 others and become a full-fledged freshman.
That’s her big moment right now and, relaxing at the home of her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Herman L. Berg, 5001 Colfax avenue S., for the first time in five weeks, she was far more excited about that than being the first Minneapolitan to win the women’s title.
She’s going to enroll in the College of Science, Literature and Arts. Her favorite study is history. She’s just a bit dubious about her university interests, however, because most of her pals are at private schools. But from now on it’s classwork, with golf only in interludes.
Wednesday night she’ll be honored by her home club, Interlachen, at a victory dinner. On Oct. 5 the junior Association of Commerce and other civic organizations will toast her at a citywide celebration.
Then she will settle back and forget pretty much about golf until she swings into the winter play. The extent of that depends upon her dad and “coach.” She knows she won’t play in as many tournaments as she has the pasy year.
“It’s too tough,” she explained.
Playing All Year
It has been just one endless round of tournaments for her since she started competitive play soon after the first of the year in Florida.
And no that she has established such a phenomenal record, has the whole business palled on her?
“Not at all,” she explained. “I wouldn’t care if I won another thing. I still would be as thrilled. The winning is only incidental.
“The real kick I get out of the tournaments now is the opportunity to get together with my golfing friends, meet new ones, and the sociability it all means. I like the thrill of competition and like to win as much as anybody, but friendship right now is more important.
“As a matter of fact, I like the practice rounds more than the actual tournaments. Then we get together, and really have a great time. Some might get the impression that there is a bitterness in this tournament business, but there isn’t. For instance, Mrs. Estelle Lawson Page, the defending champion whom I was lucky enough to beat Saturday, had her locker right next to mine, and we had a great time all week – yes, right through the championship match, too.
“You can emphasize that luck, too. I just happened to have more of it this year than the rest. Or maybe it was my faith in ‘13.’ I was born on Feb. 13, you know, was playing in my 13th tournament, won on the 13th hole Saturday.”
While winning 10 of 13 tournaments, including 45 match play rounds and three medal meets. Patty is 45 strokes under women’s par for the whole distance. In the National Women’s meet last week she was 11 under women’s par in the match play rounds and five under regulation figures for the entire week.
The young lady has taken on remarkable poise since she won the state women’s tournament at Rochester last June.
The personable Patty has lost 11 pounds, is down to a low for her of 124, which she intends to build up.
School Has Thrills
But now it’s school – and one more thrill, her biggest to come. She’s looking forward to seeing her “kid” brother – six feet one – play football at Washburn high school.
And she wouldn’t be surprised if she saw those Gophers, too. Because, you know, football was her first love, until her father called her off from the corner lot game with the boys, and she turned her mind to golf.
|Before her father steered her toward golf, Patty Berg quarterbacked her neighborhood football team in south Minneapolis. The caption on the back of this well-worn photo noted her age — “about 13″ — but failed to identify the boys in the pile. But according to Sid Hartman, that’s football legend Bud Wilkinson in the center of the photo, grinning at the camera. Sid had this to say about Berg: “She was an amazing lady. She made women's golf what it is today.” She also remembered to send Sid a Christmas card every year for the past 50 years.|