Maybe Sesame Seed Bun but No Special Sauce

Meanwhile back in the warehouse district, we've got the McDonald Bros. Co. a wholesaler of china, crockery and glassware.  It was the business of Matthew McDonald "who for a considerable period was one of the owners of an extensive wholesale and retail china, crockery and glassware." He was born in Pennsylvania in 1848 to Irish immigrant parents and started his china business there before relocating to Minneapolis in 1884. It sounds like they were on Nicollet first, but moved down Fifth Street to this location near First Avenue, where they apparently expanded into retail. Matthew died in 1910, leaving the business in his brother's hands.

Members of the McDonald family apparently prospered enough to house themselves on the lovely Lake of the Isles Parkway, where Frank McDonald, a department manager, lived in 1917. Millard McDonald, one of Matthew's sons who graduated from law school and served in the aviation forces in the first world war, lived over on Blaisdell Avenue in 1910.

The building apparently had a major fire in 1895, which lead to the death of five firemen, at the time the deadliest fire in the history of the Minneapolis fire department.

There's a cool shot here and a close-up on Fickr and here's the building in 1902.

Not That #2

I feel like I've been straying from the mission a bit too much lately (what's up with all those foreign signs, eh?), so let's get back to it.  We're in Minneapolis again, and we have an honest-to-goodness ghost sign.  And as an added bonus, we get to see a little glimmer of summertime blue sky and green leaves.

This building is veritably wrapped in signage on all sides (see below), but I put the best one up top.  It's on the southeast side of the building, and under the "for lease" sign you can see that it says "Cameron Transfer & Storage Co." who were agents of Allied Van Lines (a brand now owned by Sirva, which brings up professional memories I will keep to myself).

It turns out that I found much more than I expected about this building and about Cameron.  It seems that Schafer Richardson has (or had) plans to redevelop the site and claims that the building was built in the early 1900s and is eligible for the National Register of historic places.

The company name seems to come from Carlisle Cameron, a Canadian-born businessman who took over what sounds like a carting business in here in 1884 and was still at it 42 years later.  It seems the company was active in something called the Central Warehouseman's Club in the early 1920s. Now that sounds like an antitrust problem waiting to happen.

At least one other blog has shared the more generic signage on the opposite side of the building.  One has to wonder both how you make storage truly fire-proof, and just how rampant fires must have been at the time to make avoiding it such a popular point of advertising.

The business also shows up in a Minnesota Supreme Court decision from 1910.  It seems that someone made the foolish decision to remove their goods from the fire-safe premises of Mr. Cameron and lost them to a fire on a train.  Tsk, tsk.


Others have posted this building to Flickr here and here.

Florists And The Hendersons

Here we have a pair of signs for florists, next to a small parking lot at 1 Ave. N and 3rd St. N. The colors and trade dress look similar (at least in their faded state), but one says "Lakeland Florist Supply Inc." and I think the other says, "Greenland Wholesale Florist" (could be Greenleaf too). Perhaps they were related. This must have been the parking lot for those businesses, but in looking around a bit, I didn't see much other evidence of anyone selling flowers.

A bit of Googling suggests that I am a poor reader, and that it is in fact, Greenleaf Wholesale Florist. The business was opened as a wholesale branch of a California flower grower in the late 1960s, but it seems they no longer have a Minneapolis location.

Lakeland Florist Supply, however, is still around, but seems to have moved to Edina. The historical society has a shot from 1974, which reminds me that I've seen the "Lakeland" sign on the front of the building but didn't manage to connect the dots. I'll have to go back and get a picture of that as well.

Writing On the Wall says these were painted over in gray, but I think he/she/they have their walls mixed up (they also give the wrong intersection). The signs are still there, but the businesses aren't.

Bet He Had A Rad Helicopter

Back in the warehouse district, could this be an early prototype of iconic Minneapolis Skyways? Presumably, C.J. Duffey had offices and/or warehouse space on either side of the street, and really, who wants to go outside during a Minneapolis winter?

Even though it sounds like a 1980s cop show sidekick, the company is a paper wholesaler and "sister company" to Falk Paper. Perhaps old C.J. got sick of being assistant to the regional manager (note: yes, that's a gratuitous Office joke) and decided to break off from the mother ship.

The company's address is on Washington Ave N, but walkway here is over 3rd St. There's another sign on a different part of the building. The clock tower in the background is City Hall.

Dedicated Followers of Fashion

I started to put this one up the other day, so I had to double-check that that I didn't actually post it. I'm not sure why I like this particular shot so much, except that I like the parallel lines of the sign for Nate's Clothing and the street sign. So, yeah, that's me pretending to be arty.

Nate's is no longer operating from this location, but apparently was downtown for 92 years before moving on out to the suburbs in 2008. At the time, the space was to be converted to offices (what else), but I'm not sure what's there now. A Flickr user got this cool shot of the old sign out front. I don't recall seeing it, so I'm betting its no longer there.

The building, at 401 1st Ave. N., is apparently also known as the Manufacturers Building, and dates to about 1910.

They Should Have Stopped For Directions

These are both a bit hard to read and mysterious. This building is across the street from Commutator Foundry and up a block from the Distributor building, so it's fertile territory for ghost signs. These say Chicago House. You will no doubt not be surprised that Googling Chicago House yields little beyond references to dance music in the Chicago style. Apparently that's popular with the kids today. They don't tell us old people.

The ambiguous signage is on either side of 124 1st St. N.

Addenda

So as it turns out, going by more than once (and in better weather) can prove fruitful and enlightening. A closer look at the front (which is likely hard for you to read but is clearer here) says that Witt's is actually Witt's Market House. The historical society gives us a cool shot of some ladies shopping for meat at the market around 1942. Like grocery shopping, one should not blog about meat while hungry. Especially as Witt's, which at the time had six market locations, was convicted of food safety violations in 1932 relating to fresh meat, before reason and the state Supreme Court saved the day.

Here's another picture from that era, of customers in standing in line outside, showing the street cars and the view across the street. I'm guessing the volume of people means that there was war-time rationing going on. This triptych from 1923 may show a glimpse of the sign, and here's the store with a new paint job in 1948.

Here's a Witt's ad from a 1901 Minneapolis Journal that's just too cool of an interweb find not to share. Anyone want 5 pounds of butter for $1? Going back even earlier, I have to wonder whether the store was an outgrowth of Witt's stockyard and slaughterhouse, which was established in Crystal Lake (now Crystal) in 1879.

This rather random website may explain the over-painted "L" word in that it describes someone with the last name "Lash" as having been a baker at Witt's. I've not yet been able to find what became of Witt's, but I have to run, so I will leave with the speculation that perhaps Mr. Lash took over for the Witt family and repainted the sign.

Finally, here's the fourth Commutator Foundry sign that I missed the first time around:

A German Selling Leather Is Too Easy

The sign says C.F. Albricht Company, Leather & Shoe Store Supplies. But I believe it refers to the commercial undertaking of Mr. Charles Frederick Albrecht, who immigrated from Germany in 1881 at the age of 24. I have no explanation for why the spelling differs (and yes, dear readers, this time it isn't just my typo). After a rather varied career, he was president of and treasurer of a company bearing his name that was a wholesaler of leather goods and was described as the "only exclusive shoe findings business in Minneapolis" that grew to one of the largest of its kind in the "northwest." Like our undertaker friend, he passed away in 1921 (I guess Melby didn't handle the embalming).

As usual, someone else snapped and uploaded before me. This one's on the side of 118 N. 4th St.

Tidying Up

There's little left to be found about the The Ideal Broom & Brush Factory, in the alley between 1st & 2nd Avenues and 3rd & 4th St. Even the building itself seems to be completely abandoned. The front of the building has a faded awning that says, "The New French Bar" that definitely doesn't look, well, new.

Aside from a few Flickr photos (one of which tempts me to steal a line about Dickensian street urchins), I don't know much about this company or from where in the mists of time this comes to us. Instead I will give you a two cool Historical Society photos of a fire and its aftermath in 1937 at the Ideal Laundry that was a few blocks away, which had a cool sign of its own at the time.

Yippie Ki Yay [Expletive Deleted]!

This one says H.A. Juster Co., distributor, which seems to be a clothing/textile company. Below that are ads for Mayo Spruce, which seems to have been a t-shirt company from the 1950s, and Blue Bell Wrangler, reflective of the early days of the Wrangler jeans company.

Assuming that this is the same company or a predecessor or ancestor of Juster Brothers, there are also many interesting photos available from Historical Society. Several of them are interiors from the 1920s of a textile factory, although the main store front seems to be at nearby but different location. I'm not sure where the interiors are. Also the old store front looks really familiar, but isn't at the listed location anymore. Juster Bros. apparently sponsored a Gopher football radio show in 1948. 1942 apparently was a good year for writing strange sales letters.

There are a bunch of shots of this one available of Flickr and elsewhere, including several that caught better light and weather than me. It's at the back of 319 1st Ave.

Throw Some Venison On the Barbie

I promised my own shot of the front of the Deere & Webber building, and I'm a bit short on time, so I'll throw it up quickly here. Perhaps it will give me a chance to make up for the horrific double pun in that post title, for which I've taken some gentle crap on the personal front.

All I'd like to add is that I've recently discovered Bar La Grassa, which is in the building immediately to the left of this photo. If you haven't been, you should go. I looooove the gnocci.

Industrial Product Selling Company Inc.

Right across the intersection from Commutator Foundry, is a mysterious distributor of unknown products at 200 N. 1st St. Writing On The Wall caught the Visitor Parking and Shipping signs on the 2nd Ave. side of the building, so we know they had visitors and they shipped stuff. You can also see that significant renovation work has been done since WOTW came buy, and the building encouragingly looks close to returning to productive use.

Actually, Google Street View has outdone me, as you can actually see that it says Coal Burning Equipment Company on 2nd Ave. as well. I'm not sure how I missed that, but perhaps I will have to go by again. Of course, a name that generic doesn't do much to help us learn about its past either.

Edited to add: Vindication! The identifying sign is currently covered up and illegible:

Foundering

This might be my favorite. The combination of the clarity of the signs and the period authenticity of the building compels you to wonder about its history. There are signs on at least three sides (I guess there's actually a fourth one I missed) and the building is the subject of quite a few pics on the interwebs. The historical society has two shots, one of which is clearly dated to 1936.

I've not found a ton on the company behind the signs, but here is an interesting article from the Downtown Journal (via Writing on the Wall) from 2004. It's primarily about the building's then (and current?) owner, who at the time promised to preserve the building without renovation for some time. It looks like he's kept that promise. I was surprised, though, at the implication that the foundry apparently was in operation until 1979, when the gentleman in the profile purchased the building.

Apparently a commutator is a type of switch for certain types of motors. It's also a mathematical term (that I don't understand). I'll leave it to you to decide which inspired the name. I'll also leave you with one last shot:

You can find them all at 125 1st St. N.

Hedgehogs and Hellscapes

This one is definitely a ghost as it's barely legible. What I can make out says "Sonic Tires" and "Tire Distributor." It's also a ghost in that I can't find much about it on the internet (during the limited time allotted to Googling).

To state the obvious, it used to be a tire distributor. Sonic seems to have been a tire brand that the internet mostly forgot. All I can find are an eBay auction for a '70s-vintage brass belt buckle and a vintage painted metal sign (way cool) touting the "tire of the future today" that is more than a little reminiscent of something out of a Fallout landscape.

It's in the middle of a multi-block complex of warehouses turned into apartments on the 600 block of 1st St. N. (To read the sign, you might need to click on the pic to enlarge)

Deere Grylls?

The Deere & Webber Company, according to one source, was an offshoot of John Deere that sold bicycles. Another source identifies it as simply the branch office, or distributor, based here in Minneapolis, providing a trademark or logo used by Deere & Webber in 1880. Deere & Webber may also have made buggies and carriages in the pre-tractor days. The company was apparently named for Christopher Webber (along with Deere of course), who ran Deere interests in Minneapolis from 1881 onward before getting his name in lights in 1893. Collection suits were apparently still being brought in the Deere & Webber name at least as late as 1942. Mr. Webber apparently married into the Deere family and came to have significant positions within the company along with prominence within the Minneapolis community.

This sign is actually on the back of the building, facing 2nd Ave. N. The front of the building, which I will feature with my own picture at some point in the future, is also quite interesting.

Invasion of the Body Snatchers

One more block down Washington there are ghost signs covering an entire side of a building. The two on the right are for warehouse space (big shocker here in the warehouse district). I can't make out the top, but spanning the building in the second row of signage we have "Martin Parry Commercial Bodies." Sounds pretty cool, right? Like maybe back in the day you could buy cadavers for TV commercials or something? Awesome!?

Okay, so not quite that macabre. Martin Parry was once a vehicle manufacturer, but by 1915 was specialized in building truck bodies for the Ford Model T (click the link for a great set of illustrations from the company's 1926 catalog). An analyst report from 1923 says the company was formed in a combination of two predecessors in 1919. The company was bought by GM in 1930 (more great illustrations) and renamed the Chevrolet Body Division. This sign was therefore likely painted sometime between 1919 and 1930, and probably graced a distributor of Martin Parry bodies. You can find it at 607 Washington Ave. N.

Party Like It's 1884

Okay, so this one is both less of a ghost and a little too easy. The good folks at Gardner Hardware Co. tell us they have been serving Minneapolis since 1884. That probably means that their fairly freshly-painted sign is covering other of their older signs, including the one for The Maytag Company (in whose demise as an independent company I played a minor role, but let's not get into more of that antitrust stuff).

The store is at 515 Washington Ave. N.

Layers

This one's also been covered by Writing On The Wall. Or, more accurately, the main sign has been. The main sign is for Appliance Parts Inc., distributors of goods described in the name. The name is a bit too generic to have much hope of learning the history of the company, but here are a pair of interesting shots from Flickr.

There are other intriguingly vague whispers surrounding that which is visible. Below the appliance parts, I think I can read McGuire Plows. The McGuire Manufacturing Company (later McGuire-Cummings) was apparently a 19th Century maker of railway cars and railway snow removal equipment. Which means that those letters could be more than 110 years old.

These are at N. 3rd Ave. & Washington.

Meanwhile Down On The Farm

This building at 312 N. Washington Ave. appears to be mostly empty, although the first floor seemed to be the home of the Institute of Production and Recording. Clearly it was once a farm implement dealer in the heart of downtown Minneapolis. There are two signs for Van Brunt Seeder, founded in the 1850s by inventors of an automated seeding machine. The company was apparently the largest farm implement manufacturer in the world as of 1911, the same year it was consolidated into John Deere. The absence of that famous name may mean that this sign dates to even earlier times.

The other ad is for Milwaukee Harvester Company, which was part of a major consolidation in the farm machinery business in 1902 that formed International Harvester and that was eventually challenged under the federal antitrust laws. The New York Times published a notice of the company's acquisition on August 13, 1902 saying that the buyer was unknown.

Agriculture is still big business in Minnesota, but its place at the heart of our culture is fading. I've watched how the Minnesota State Fair has changed over my lifetime. The machinery part of Machinery Hill keeps shrinking. Farm commodities reports are gone from the local news (although as I don't listen to WCCO anymore, maybe I just miss them). TV isn't dominated by agricultural ads. These signs are a reminder of how central farming used to be.

Eh, Just One More Thing

This one is apparently only a ghost via its age. Falk Paper Co. seems to still be a going concern, although its website says that the company dates to 1898. I can't help but picture something like Dunder Mifflin, but it looks more like industrial and custom commercial paper and packing materials.

Here's another shot from Flickr, and here's a bit more info on the building itself. 618 N. 3rd St.