Life Is Like a Box of Sausages

I've seen this one before, but wasn't sure whether it was still an operating business (it must not have been as at one point this was an Asian seafood business). But having read that this building is to be the future home of a brewery or distillery with a rooftop patio, this time I knew it's a ghost and thus qualifies for inclusion here.

The sign is on the side of the former sausage factory at 427 Harrison St. NE, right up against the train tracks (train-people tell me this particular configuration of tracks is called a wye). Street View gave me a bit of initial confusion as the sign was not visible when last Google went by in 2014. Upon closer inspection, it seems there used to be siding on the end of the building that has now been removed.

Obviously, I hope they decide to keep the sign as they renovate the building. Unfortunately, it's painted over with a generic mural of wheat in the rendering included with that Business Journal article. Here's hoping the brewer/distiller has more appreciation for the character a sign like this offers than the architect.

As for the sausages, Ambassador is still an existing brand of Scandinavian-style hot dogs that's been around since 1932. Today it's part of Wimmers Meats, which itself is a division of Land O'Frost (and here I'd only head of Land O'Lakes and Land-O-Nod). Before all of that, however, Ambassador was associated with a 2014 inductee into the Minnesota Women Business Owners Hall of Fame (I did not know there was such a thing, but sounds cool to me).

Ethel Arnold began working at what was then called the Sanitary Sausage Company (mmmm... sanitary) in the 1930s, later moving into the front office as a bookkeeper. After the drowning death of her first husband, Ethel got remarried, this time to the company's founder. Once he too passed on, Ethel inherited the company, but it was in bleak shape. She used her experience in all aspects of the business to turn the company around and work out of its debt. She also renamed it. Maybe she thought sausages would sell better if they sounded fancy rather than just clean.

Ethel sold the company in 1991, ending the last remaining independently owned sausage company in the Upper Midwest. She died in 2000.

The Hennepin County Library's tumblr (I did not know it had one, apparently there are a lot of things I do not know) has a post on Ethel, including some old images of the inside and outside of the factory. Here's another shot of the sign from flickr.

We've Been Over This Before

I've got three signs on the side of one building in an alley off Lake Street of varying degrees of legibility.  The first one we can make out, and in part because we've seen that yellow-hewed ad style before.  It's Lee's, but this time it's not just overalls.  This one seems to be co-sponsored by something called Jack's Toggery.  

If you're like me, you weren't so sure about that second word.  It sort of sounds like British legal term/slang for alternative sexual behavior.  But I guess maybe it used to mean clothing store in the vernacular.  Somehow, that's disappointing.  So is what I've been able to find about Jack's.  I'd guess there was a clothing store by that name in this area, but I've not been able to turn up any evidence, so, on to the others:

For the next one, we know what they do, but we're missing the name.  Apparently someone around here offered window trimming, show card writing and advertising.  My first thought was that this was a another decorating outfit, but I think that's wrong.  I think these folks were instead marketers.  Maybe they were the original Mad Men.  Sadly, if they wrote their own name on the side of this building, I can no longer read it.

The last one leaves us with the opposite problem.  I think that first line says "Van Camp's."  I can't read the rest, but it seems there is a famous brand of canned beans with that name owned by ConAgra.  I don't think I've heard of them, but that has to be what we are looking at.  Apparently I don't eat enough canned beans.  I've seen Blazing Saddles, so I do not regret it.

The brand dates to 1861 in Indianapolis, and there's a pretty cool collection of Van Camp ads from the period when they were owned by a company called Stokely here.  Local Google results for the last name seem to be dominated by doctors with that last name.   Do you think any of them focus on the gastrointestinal system?

Just for good measure, here's a guy named Van Camp hoisting anchor with some friends somewhere in Minnesota in 1941.

Ghost Fails

I'm afraid, dear reader, that I've utterly failed you.  That "glass and plow" building I just recently talked about?  Yeah, well, I got it wrong.  And now I'm compounding the error by giving you shot in which you can't read it anyway (but it's better than the blurry, poorly-lit shot of the whole sign I was originally going to use).  The horror.

But it turns out that it wasn't "rch."  It was "rgh," as in, "Pittsburgh" and as in "Pittsburgh Plate Glass Co."  And the building with that name has a story to tell (and its own Facebook page).  It's also called the "Northern Implement Company," thus explaining why it says "plow" on the side.  I'm guessing PPG, short for Pittsburgh Plate Glass, is the successor company, which seems to be going strong.  If so, it seems they no longer have local operations.  The rather generically-named implement company is hard to investigate, as its main presence on the internet is pointers to this building.

The Historical Society has a bunch of interesting images.  Here's the leaded glass department at the very beginning of the 20th Century.  It doesn't look that much different a decade later.  Finally, here's the outside of the building, and the cobblestone street, another decade after that, or another, or in the 1970s.

In news of other failures, I also can't believe that I told you the story of Wilbur Foshay without checking on what's available from the Historical Society.  Not surprisingly, there are tons of pictures featuring this Twin Cities landmark.  Go look at all of them.  I'll just highlight a few: 1926 before there was a tower, excavation for the tower in 1927, the Foshay football team in 1928 with the Tower on their uniforms, the skyline during construction, brand-spanking new tower the same year, the dedication ceremony in 1929 featuring "scantily" clad women, and the auction of the building in 1930.  And, of course, things would not be complete with out shots of Wilbur himself before the trouble, at the time of arraignment, at trial, and in Leavenworth prison working on a pardon while wearing a shirt, tie and cuff links.

Finally, in failures past, perhaps you remember the "Witt's" saga.  It turns out that if I had walked through the alley behind it, I might have been able to make out this very dilapitated sign and known what I was looking at:

Perfect Harmony

Coke's "It's the real thing" slogan seemed familiar to me, so I was surprised that it can apparently be dated fairly specifically to 1969, leading into the famous "I'd like to buy the world a Coke" ad and song. I would have thought that such a famous slogan would lead to an abundance of online trivia, so I was a little surprised when I didn't get much beyond wikipedia and that image searching lead me pretty directly to two Flickr entries for this very sign. It's on Washington Ave. N. near Broadway.

My Google image search also turned up this, which I had to use because it features "Buddy Christ" from Kevin Smith's Dogma. I can't tell for sure, but while the site seems sincere, I would guess that the author knew the source of this image. But it's more fun to think that he wasn't in on the joke.

On an unrelated note, it seems the Witt's mystery needn't have been quite so puzzling, at least if I had been able to ask the folks who decorated the Lund's in Nordeast. I snapped this iPhone shot of the vintage photographs behind the cashiers:

Pizza! Pizza! (sorry, Little Ceasar's)

This is a good one! Okay, so, even if you aren't local, you know these people's products. If you are local, you may not know the history. I'm sure all of you think of Minneapolis as the natural source of all your frozen Italian foods options.

This is the original location for Totino's, which started in the 1950s as a local take out pizza place. Eventually it grew into a restaurant, and then a frozen food empire. It's amusing to me that here, on the original Nordeast location, which closed some time ago (maybe 15 years?? or not quite that long), relocated to my neck of the woods, not far from where I grew up, in Mounds View.

I'm sure we went there once or twice when I was growing up, but I can't stress enough how extraordinary it is for tomato, onion and garlic based food (YUM!!) to have had so much success in the heart of meat-and-potato land (although had they still featured fried shrimp, my dad woulda been a regular). It's inspiring enough that I might have to pick up some pizza rolls and watch some hockey! Go North Stars!

Um. Okay. Well. Lest we all leave with all warm feelings, I have to mention that the founders of Totino's also are name-sponsors of Totino-Grace. I'm sure it's a fine institution, but for half of my high school sports career, and the lead up to it, it was a cross-conference rival (darn you Iker Iturbe!). I will eat my frozen snack foods with a bitter aftertaste of thwarted teenage competition.

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:

One Big Pepper

Not all interesting old signs need be made of paint on brick. I've never heard of it (perhaps I'm sheltered or something), but the Snoboy brand is apparently still in use by what is now Amerifresh Corporation, a produce marketer. The brand dates to 1925, and this particular trademark was in use from 1960 to 1985.

The sign is in front of what is now a Sharing and Caring Hands location, apparently appropriately being preserved for posterity. According to this Flickr user, this used to be the headquarters of Pacific Gamble Robinson, a predecessor of Amerifresh. 525 N. 7th St.

I Thought This Would Be Easier

But I can't really make out what this one says either. Once again, it looks like maybe it's been painted over or modified over time. It looks like the top of the signs says "Witts," which may be an add for Witts Liquor around the corner (I'll have to go by to see if it's still there). It looks like it may now be Team Liquor (watch out for sounds).

I can only make out "Lan" at the beginning of the word superimposed over that, so I don't know to what that refers.

This one is at 705 S. Hennepin, directly above the Chevy's (the roof of Chevy's is at the bottom of the picture).