|A yellow-billed cuckoo with the foliage and fruits of a pawpaw. (John James Audubon)|
William Allen White, editor of the Emporia Gazette, waxed poetic on “the saddest fruit in the world” in this piece, which was republished in the Minneapolis Tribune.
“PAWPAWS IS RIPE”
Bill Colyar brought us in our annual pawpaw today, and we have tucked it away where it will do us the most good. We know not how it may affect others, but we have managed one way or another to eat at least a pawpaw a year for the past 50 years. And we have noticed this: Every year that we have eaten a pawpaw we have lived until the following summer. It may not work that way with everyone; but certainly the pawpaws have kept us alive from year to year. It is a great fruit, the pawpaw; a kind of atavistic throw back to a custard pie on its mother’s side and a bullhead catfish on its father’s side, carrying the aroma and consistency of the one and the bones and sins of the father.
But it is the saddest fruit in the world, too. It recalls woods that are fields and streets now, times that are gone now, days that are memories and boys who are dead! – Emporia Gazette.
More from Star Tribune
More From Yesterday's News
Another in our series of Minneapolis Tribune stories that include the word "newspaporial."
In a convoy of six jeeps accompanied by a police escort, RCA Victor's Television Caravan rolled into Minneapolis in October 1947. Several hundred spectators packed the Donaldson's department store on Nicollet Avenue to see demonstrations of the new technology. The next year, KSTP became the first TV station in Minnesota to broadcast regularly, beaming 12 to 14 hours of programming a week to about 2,500 television sets in the metro area.
Just a year out of high school, 19-year-old Willie Mays took the field for the Minneapolis Millers on May 1, 1951, opening day at Nicollet Park. More than 6,000 fans watched the rookie notch three hits and make a "sparkling catch" against the flagpole. Another future Hall of Famer, Hoyt Wilhelm, was the winning pitcher.
A link between brain damage and anti-social behavior has been well-documented. It's unclear how well-documented the link was in 1920, when a court sent a robbery suspect to a St. Paul hospital for a bit of cranial surgery to cure his "criminal tendencies." Did it work? There's no mention of the suspect in subsequent issues of the Minneapolis Tribune, and no record of a Nobel prize for the surgeon.
Through protests and shareholder engagement, the Honeywell Project (1968-1990) sought to persuade Honeywell Inc. to start beating cluster bombs into plowshares. Molly Ivins, then a reporter for the Minneapolis Tribune, was on the scene when Jerry Rubin, one of the Chicago Seven, joined peace activist Marv Davidov and poet Robert Bly to lead the charge in Minnesota in April 1970.