They Could Make A Movie (Probably Called "Madison")

Try control your excitement, people.  I know you never believed we'd get here.  I know this blog has exceeded your expectations in every way, and now, well, now we've finally made it.  That's right.  We made it to post #100.  Who knew there were that many signs to talk about?

So, as it's a nice, round number, we need a landmark.  I've saved a good one.  Okay, so it's not paint on brick, so maybe it doesn't fit exactly (hmm... maybe that says something about how we got here), but it is significant.  It's the building that defined the Minneapolis skyline for years.  If memory serves, it was long the tallest building in Minneapolis.

The Foshay has a bit of a dramatic history.  It was completed in 1929 just a few months before the big stock market crash.  It was the brainchild of Wilbur Foshay, who got rich buying utility companies and planned to move into a multi-level suite at the top of the building.  The building opened to a lavish dedication and featured John Phillip Sousa conducting a specially-commissioned march.  Each guest got a gold watch.  Splendor abounded.

There was only one problem.  Old Wilbur had a secret and, like Bernie Madoff, the onset of the Great Depression exposed him.  His empire collapsed, he never moved into his new home, and the check he used to pay Sousa bounced.  Wilbur was accused of running a Ponzi scheme and charged with fraud.  His first trial ended in a mistrial after one juror, Genevieve Clark, held out for his innocence.  He was convicted and sentenced to 15 years the second time around.

Only later was it discovered the Mrs. Clark's husband knew and had business dealings with Wilbur.  Rather than face obstruction of justice charges, she and her family fled.  The Clarks and their two children were later found dead from intentional carbon monoxide poisoning.

Things are a bit happier in the Foshay these days.  The tower is taken up by the W Hotel and the two-story commercial space at the base houses Manny's, arguably the best steakhouse in town, and Key's, one of the better places for brunch and/or pie.

Even more fitting, the Foshay is framed here by the IDS Center, which replaced it as the tallest building in town in 1972 and the Well Fargo Center (originally, the Norwest Center, and before that the one with the weather ball), built to be technically just shorter than IDS out of Minnesota nice or something.

Made Out Of Tungsten?

It's time to circle back and pick up a sign we skipped over from one of my earlier hunts. I'm going to keep is short and sweet, because the Edison Building is the same as the Lumber Exchange. Somebody writing for wikipedia seems to think its "now know as" Edison, but I don't think that's even remotely right. It's the Lumber Exchange, and if you happen to look at it from the right angle you might see there's a sign that says Edison on the back.

The Nemeses Of Dudley Do-Right?

The Calhoun Building, at 711 Lake St. (near Lyndale), was built by the Calhoun Commercial Club. It was completed in 1914 at a cost of $135,000, and was supposed to feature a bowling alley, an auditorium and rooms for club activities, along with commercial space for lease. I've not found much about the club and its function, except mentions in the bios of a few old members.

Over at the Historical Society, you can see the evolution of both the building and the cars parked in front of it from 1918 to 1956. The Hennepin County Library has the many women of the Red Cross Auxiliary assembled in front of the building in June 1917. Finally, check out this 1925 stag party of the club. Either wearing fake mustaches was part of the fun or you had to be Dastardly Whiplash to join it.

There is no word as to whether there is any movement to change the building's name, as there is for the nearby lake that is also named after the former Vice President and slavery proponent John C. Calhoun. Oddly, Mr. Calhoun did not wear a mustache, although he did look like a character from the muppets.

Babe The Blue Ox Was Stabled Across The Street

This one hearkens to fundamental reason we are all here. Lumber. Poised at the northernmost naturally navigable point of the Mississippi River, next to an abundant source of natural power in the form of St. Anthony Falls, it was lumber that first put Minneapolis on the map. Trees were felled in the northern forests, floated down river, and brought to the mills that lined either side of the falls. Flour, and even textiles came later, but what first made this the Mill City was saw milling.

The Lumber Exchange doesn't date to those early days, but it's a reminder that even before agriculture there were trees and there were saws. Today there are offices, retail on the ground level, and I guess a dance club of some sort as I walked by one weekend evening in February and saw all manner of deranged youths standing in line dressed to party and without coats. Ah, youth. It's frozen.

The Historical Society has quite a few pictures of this old gem. The city tells us that construction started in 1887, with a second phase completed in 1890. As the name suggests, it was meant to be a center of lumber trading, but its function drifted as the lumber industry faded. Wikipedia tells us that it's the oldest high rise in Minneapolis and that it's the oldest building outside of New York of more than 12 floors. It was billed as one of the first fireproof buildings, but I'm not sure if that was before or after the big 1891 fire that seems to have devastated it and its neighbors.

In addition to the sign labeling the building, there is what seems to be a separate sign for something that had offices in Chicago and St. Louis, but I can't make out any more of it.

The building sits at Hennepin and 5th Ave. S., but the sign is prominent near the intersection of Hennepin and Washington.

No, Not That Bakker

There are a ton of these, and I don't plan to include them all, but I liked this iPhone shot of the sign on the side of the historic Baker Building. If I'm reading this correctly, the building dates to 1925 and hosts primarily office space with retail at the skyway level.

If any of you are not from Minneapolis and have wondered what these "skyway" things are, well, there you have it. It's cold here in the winter. We need enclosed glass and metal hallways on the second story of our buildings so as not to be forced to eat our sled dogs when we leave the office to grab lunch three blocks away.

The building was featured in an ad for Carney Mortar (my personal favorite mortar supplier, use them for all your mortar and mortar-related accessory needs) in 1926, according to this vintage ad that you can currently buy from eBay. The Historical Society has a number of cool images, including of the construction and of its neighbors with the Foshay Tower in the background.

This pic was taken on 7th St. S. between Marquette and 2nd Ave.