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:

Muse News

This is illegible, but it's one of the paint on brick events that first got me thinking about this little exercise, so I thought I'd throw it up here. I've got nothing to say about the unreadable sign itself, so, with apologies to Jason Mewes, I thought I'd use this space for some updates on territory we've already traversed.

The Downtown Journal has a handy interactive map about what's going on in property development, which touches on several of the buildings we've covered. In no particular order:

The Pillsbury A Mill has a new proposal for loft style apartments (no surprise there). No word on whether or not this is the kind of "piecemeal" redevelopment that worried some.

The Nicollet is still off, and the developer isn't talking.

Our mysterious distributor of mystery products, which the Journal calls the Marvel Rack building, has a new restaurant owned by the governor's sons, with plans for additional retail.

Next door to Witts, which used to be a Chevy's, could now be getting a deli. That seems fitting for the area.

Also in neighborly news, this time in the space next to the Grain Belt Brewery, the city is looking at proposals for residential and/or mixed use development (my vote, as always, is for the latter).

Finally, it's not really an update, but for me the best news is that the on again, off again Lunds in my neighborhood is back on again. I could really use a place to stop for groceries on the way home from work (that isn't Target).

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:

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).