I have lived in the Twin Cities for many years, and witnessed countless architects and city planners design surfaces and statuary for downtown without taking into consideration our weather conditions in winter. As a result, citizens have had to take their lives into their hands when trying to navigate some of these surfaces that become slippery when cold, wet, frosty, snow-covered, etc. In a similar vein, planted trees (ah, the beauty of greenery) have come and gone on Nicollet Mall in a revolving-door fashion. Now I read that the brand new trees are dying and will "be replaced" ("Greening of Nicollet Mall turns out to be not so easy," front page, June 7). Who pays for the replacement? And are you replacing the dead trees with the same trees? Do we KNOW why the trees died? I wouldn't replace a plant in my yard that suddenly died with an identical plant until I know more about its suitability and why it might have died. Too much sun? Too little sun? Too much pollution? Hello! Is anyone out there thinking logically about this?
Kathy Mattsson, Minnetonka
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Regarding: the story about the dying trees on Nicollet Mall. I once talked to a contractor replanting a dead tree. It was planted in a sunny location in the middle of a sidewalk. He explained that the heat from the sidewalks can be too hard on a tree. Your picture of the dying trees made me wonder. Is a gravel mound surrounded by sidewalk the appropriate planting enviroment for a tree? Would a native grass buffer around the tree work better to absorb some of the heat? With no buffer, I think the replacement trees will die as well.
Carla McClellan, Minneapolis
FOUNDATIONS
'Building community': It's easier said than done
Thank you for the thoughtful commentary by Judith Koll Healey ("Have community foundations lost sight of their North Star?" June 6). The idea of "building community" is so alluring during these raucous times, but it's not easily done. I know the trend is that city councils, police departments, faculty members at elementary and secondary schools, boards and members of any number of nonprofit organizations that look to foundations for grants to carry on some of their mission are "supposed to look like (name of city here)." And they don't. Minnesota has welcomed — and I use that word on purpose — immigrants from Laos, Somalia, Myanmar, and Mexico and other Central American countries. Add them to our African-American population and there is a sizable pool for building communities that no longer are predominantly white.
How can we get together and build real communities? Certainly, there are a plethora of hyphenated organizations — African-, Somali-, Hmong- — but they don't look like (name of city here), either.
Is it the fear of assimilation? Cultural identity lingers for decades. See Cinco de Mayo as one example or Rondo Days in St. Paul as another. Or last week's celebration of St. Boniface at the Church of the Assumption in St. Paul. When my mother was growing up in St. Paul, the Assumption was the "German Church," while St. Louis, King of France, just a few blocks away, was the "French Church." At the Assumption's celebration, almost the entire mass was in German, and it was followed by a lunch of bratwurst, warm potato salad and sauerkraut. Vestiges of those earlier times are gone, but somehow the memories remain and have blended into meaningful events for those who now make up the congregation.
To build communities that look like any city in the metropolitan area these days is a great goal, but getting there is easier said than done. Minneapolis and St. Paul community foundations, can you help?
Mary Vik, St. Paul
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