Finding Traces of Henry David Thoreau's 1861 Visit to Minneapolis

Our Lady of Lourdes Church, built 1854-1857, with later additions.

In May 1861, Henry David Thoreau visited Minneapolis. He was terminally ill, and would die within a year.

I found myself wondering if there are any traces of places or institutions Thoreau would have seen or visited.

There is very little contemporaneous documentation about his visit to Minneapolis: no newspaper articles, no subsequent book. We do have Thoreau's handwritten field notes, and letters written by his 17-year-old companion Horace Mann, Jr.

Dubai by Rail and Foot

I checked in to my Dubai hotel at 2:00 a.m. this morning, fresh off an eight-hour flight from Guangzhou.

In the lobby, people were still enjoying the night. Two thirtysomething expatriate women emerged from the pub in summer frocks, looking like they were on their way to an English garden party.

A Shanghai Urban Hike

I deliberately chose a creaky 1920's era hotel for my base in Shanghai, which made it all the more shocking to emerge into 21st century Shanghai.

"Do you need the company of a woman?" asked a conservative-looking thirty-something woman, pacing the street outside.

Today, I walked a twelve mile, somewhat random loop from my hotel. The billboard at the top of this post confronted me early in the walk. It would have brought death to the perpetrators in the Mao era. 

Today, old Shanghai, the Shanghai where families had one room apiece, is quickly fading under the wreckers' ball. My first priority was to catch that world.

Marcy-Holmes Neighborhood: Architectural Sculptures and Actual Buildings

Each week, I enjoy a walk or a cycle ride with a friend.

This week we started at a street lined with twenty-four architectural sculptures on plinths. We had passed the end of this street many times, but had no idea these sculptures existed.

Then we went on a hunt for some of the buildings depicted by the bronze sculptures. My friend's blog post nicely describes our walk this week.

An Indoor 9-Mile Urban Hike

 

A fierce rainstorm had hit California. People had died, a reservoir was bursting at the seams, evacuations had been ordered in several counties.

The storm weakened as it crossed the Rockies on its way to Minneapolis and points east. On Monday, Presidents' Day, the storm finally hit Minneapolis, dropping 0.6 inches of rain. This may sound wimpy, but the average precipitation for Minneapolis for the whole of February is just shy of 0.9 inches.

I decided this was a good day to walk nine miles of the Minneapolis skyway system.

My America

Today I waited at Cedar Riverside light rail station for a friend. We were going to walk and chat about our memories of the area. He, and his father before him, had attended the nearby Augsburg College. [See his blog post.]

100 years ago, the Cedar Riverside area of Minneapolis was the first American home for waves of Scandinavians. Augsburg College, with its Norwegian/Lutheran roots was well situated here.

Back then, the prevailing culture sometimes stereotyped the newcomers as dumb, clumsy, heavy drinkers who talked with a funny accent.

A Carny's Final Journey

If I die in a distant place, my instructions are simple. No coffin, no embalming, just have me cremated then shipped back in a generic box to Minneapolis.

That's it: one final flight to MSP, then scatter my ashes somewhere.

Lakewood Cemetery would be a fine place for The Scattering. It's beautifully maintained by a nonprofit, it's beside a Minneapolis lake, Lake Calhoun, and I'd be in the company of the likes of Hubert Humphrey and Paul Wellstone. Oh yes, and Tiny Tim.

I have a physical place to return to, but what about people who do not have such a place?

So today, I left a track in the fresh snow as I walked the 6,000 steps from our front door to the southern corner of Section 28 of Lakewood Cemetery. Here I hoped to learn something about people who have no physical place to return to when they die.

Trek to Tiny Tim's Tomb

In 1968 Tiny Tim released his first album, God Bless Tiny Tim, and his falsetto Tiptoe Through the Tulips became a worldwide phenomenon. In 1996 he had a heart attack on stage at the Minneapolis Women's Club, and was pronounced dead at the nearby Hennepin County Medical Center.

It seemed strangely appropriate to start my hike to Tiny Tim's tomb outside a factory that makes jingle machines for ice cream trucks. On the way, I would pick out other points of interest, including the former home of a pathologist whose name is known to millions of men around the world, the home of an elf, and a former fast-food outlet which is now on the National Register of Historical Places.

My Shortest Urban Hike Ever

Around the turn of the nineteenth century, movers and shakers built some standout homes on Lowry Hill, Minneapolis.

Last week I decided to get to know part of the neighborhood a little better. I'd had surgery the previous week, and the chosen day promised to be the hottest in four years. This would be my shortest urban hike, ever.

I walked from our home to the 1925 Elizabeth C. Quinlan House (pictured above). Quinlan operated a successful department store in the Young-Quinlan Building, a gracious structure that still adds heart to downtown Minneapolis.

Urban Hike: Early Nordeast Houses

If I didn't know better I would walk right past this unassuming house. It looks to be about the right size and style for Nordeast (Northeast Minneapolis), and it's in a typical neighborhood.

A typical Nordeast neighborhood has a bunch of churches and bars. There's five churches within a couple blocks of this house, and plenty bars within staggering distance.

The house was built some time in the 1850's through 1870's making it one of just a handful of houses in Minneapolis surviving from that time. The Minneapolis fire of 1893 destroyed more than 23 surrounding blocks, but somehow spared this house.