Elmer Fudd began hunting Bugs Bunny, that wascally wabbit, in 1940's "A Wild Hare." Perhaps Tex Avery, Bugs' official creator, was inspired by a story like this one, which originally appeared in 1901 in the North Platte (Neb.) Semi-Weekly Tribune, the Philadelphia Times, the Davidson (S.C.) Dispatch, the New Bern (N.C.) Daily Journal and the Hawaiian Star of Honolulu.
It's one of the most memorable achievements in the history of Minnesota high school basketball. More than a half-century ago, tiny Edgerton – population 900 – beat Austin 72-61 to capture the state title at Williams Arena.
Minnesota's centennial brought out the stars back in 1958, led by Judy Garland, who fought through a case of laryngitis to entertain 20,000 people at the U's old Memorial Stadium. Also baking in the sun on that hot Sunday afternoon in Minneapolis were Secretary of State John Foster Dulles, Princess Astrid of Norway, Prince Bertil of Sweden, the prime ministers of Denmark and Finland, and ambassadors from West Germany, Iceland and Yugoslavia.
South High goalie Tony Julin, who lost an eye when a shot hit him in the face during practice, returned to the ice seven weeks later with a glass eye and a renewed determination to stop pucks. His greatest difficulty: the high shots. "I still can't get the angles right. And I don't always know where the net is," he said.
In 1977, Gerry Spiess began building a 10-foot plywood-and-fiberglass sailboat in his garage in White Bear Lake. Spiess, a technical instructor at 3M Co., had designed and built other boats and was an experienced sailor. He had sailed down the Mississippi River and crossed the Gulf of Mexico to South America. But two attempts to sail around the world were scuttled by illness and bad weather. He designed little "Yankee Girl" to set a world record as the smallest boat to cross the Atlantic Ocean.
Phoebe Fairgrave, an 18-year-old St. Paul high school girl, who had not ridden in an airplane six months ago, yesterday broke all existing records for women parachute jumpers, when she leaped from a plane at a height of 15,200 feet over North Minneapolis, and landed safely 20 minutes later in a field about a mile from New Brighton.
The newspaper career of Wisconsin native Winifred Bonfils spanned five decades, beginning in 1890 at the San Francisco Examiner. Her syndicated pieces for Hearst ran under the byline "Winifred Black," but Examiner readers knew her as Annie Laurie. The Minneapolis Star carried her syndicated column in the early 1930s, including this swell musing published a few years before her death.
Thirty-two men accused of kidnapping and assaulting a German-American farmer they suspected of holding "disloyal" views received a hero's welcome in Luverne, Minn., after a U.S. District Court jury ruled in their favor. Their defense: He had it coming.
Two eye-catching stewardesses, Gladys and Gloria Thorvaldson, landed on the cover of the Minneapolis Tribune's Sunday Picture magazine in January 1966. The identical twins, natives of Manitoba, joined Northwest Airlines during the golden age of air travel. The pair teamed up to serve hot meals, fill drink orders and turn heads aboard the sleek but smoke-filled jetliners of the era.
In the summer of 1962, Sherri Finkbine of Phoenix, Ariz., discovered that she had inadvertently taken thalidomide during her pregnancy. Fearing her fetus might be deformed, she decided to seek an abortion, first in Phoenix, then Japan and finally Sweden. Her story drew intense national coverage and prompted the Minneapolis Tribune to send a reporter to North Dakota to interview a 12-year-old boy with the kind of birth defect that led her to seek an abortion.
Minnesota's first Renaissance Festival, which opened 40 years ago this week in Chaska, was promoted as a "Celebration of Nature, Art and Life." It as much a celebration of tie-dyed costumes and black-velvet paintings as it was of life in 16th-century Europe.
Without major league sports or even a decent shopping mall, entertainment options were somewhat limited in these parts in 1915. Twin City Lines, which ran the streetcars, used this three-column ad in the Minneapolis Morning Tribune to drum up interest in trips to the "wonderful" new state prison outside Stillwater.
"We're bringing her to the hospital now! Have the doctors ready! We'll be there in five minutes!" When the foregoing message in an agitated woman's voice rang in her ear over the telephone, Miss Olive Johnson, night superintendent of nurses at St. Barnabas Hospital, got into action with the speed of professional system. She sensed at least a serious automobile accident. Within the stipulated five minutes two physicians, the night surgeon, two nurses and three or four attendants stood mobilized in the operating room.
Mrs. Helga Estby and her daughter, Clara Estby, of Spokane, Wash., who last year performed the marvelous feat of walking from Spokane to New York city, arrived in Minneapolis last evening on their way home, and are at present at the Excelsior-Scandia house. They came from Chicago, which city they left May 5.
A century ago, the Minneapolis post office hand-sorted a half-million letters a day. More than 2,000 arrived with mangled or incomplete addresses. Here's how patient specialists dealt with letters that "would baffle an expert in hieroglyphics."
In a United Press story published in the Minneapolis Tribune, a Yale man who probably managed to avoid frat houses during his undergrad years demonstrates that you can be right about all the facts and still come to the wrong conclusion.