I'm Not Even Supposed To Be Here Today!

After reading the article I linked to in yesterday's post, about how Bloomington Avenue between Franklin and Lake used to be one of the city's most troubled streets, I got to thinking about the fact that I chose to walk on it precisely because it seemed less sketchy than some of the surrounding area.  I was curious about whether the renaissance that was projected in 2003 was real, or whether the bursting of the housing bubble set the neighborhood back.  There was only one way to find out.  That's right, I needed to give it another pass in the middle of the day on a bright, sunny, weekend afternoon.  Don't pretend that you don't know that's when the real heavy sh*t goes down.

Conveniently, having put in a hard half hour's worth of blogging, I decided that I should go get some beer (is there ever a bad time?) and headed over to Harriet Brewing to bolster my hipster street cred (only to undermine it again by not buying anything because they only had the West Side "Belgian" IPA which is way too hoppy for my taste even though I love Beligian beer and have never encountered anything from Belgium that is that heavy in hops).  I've brought home growlers from Harriet at least a half dozens times, but still I can never figure out the most efficient way to get there from my house.  But now that I know that Bloomington connects Franklin and Lake, I figured why not swing by and see how things are going, and then hook a left on Lake to get some tasty beverage?

So, I guess I won't keep you in suspense any longer.  Things looked fine.  I didn't see any noticeable prostitution or drug dealing, so, you know, yay! for urban redevelopment. (ETA: Apparently the heavy stuff was on the other side of town that afternoon.)

I did, however, find out that I had been delinquent on my last trip because I didn't even notice, much less snap, this sign that's just down the block from Welna's.  It's on the side of the NAWAYEE Center School, and alternative high school focused on American Indian youth.  With my priorities clearly focused on beer, I didn't bother to get out of the car to take this picture, which unfortunately means that it's a little hard to read (ah, the limitations of iPhone photography on an outdated phone).

But if you look closely you can see that it says "John A. Dalsin and Son" and "Sheet Metal And Roofing Contractors."  Turns out, the company's still around, or was whenever that website was built.  We are apparently on the third generation of Dalsin's, and the company dates to 1912. The Historical Society has a photo of the installation of shelves at a Dalsin Hardware at this address in 1949.  Finally, it seems our Mr. John A. Dalsin purchased some land somewhere in Minneapolis for $2,400 in 1906, but I don't know if that lot in "Petter's addition" is this property.

There is no word on Mr. Daslin's views about the innocence of the roofers who were slaughtered upon the destruction of the second Death Star.

Yeah, You Blend

Here we have Welna Hardware in the Phillips neighborhood on Bloomington Avenue in South Minneapolis.  There's not much mystery to this sign, and there is a newer, larger version of the store across the street.  But for now the old store and its old sign are preserved, if somewhat under-utilized (it seemed to be only used for storage when I went by).  The store was apparently in this building for at least fifty years before remodeling the new building across the street, although the building has gotta be older than that.  Back in 2003, MPR described this street as one of Minneapolis's most rundown and crime infested, with the remodeled Welna's as part of its renaissance.  I didn't see any overt prostitution or drug selling when I went buy one weekend in the early afternoon, but it still didn't feel like the greatest neighborhood for a stroll to me.

I got this one after wandering a bit too much in the 'hood.  While crossing through the park at the Cedar Avenue Fields, a young gentleman, after asking me for a cigarette that I didn't have, decided that I was with the police.  He announced to people in the park, "don't f*ck with that n*****, he's a narc").  It didn't really seem like anyone was preparing to f with me, and I really think I would make for a crappy undercover cop in a predominantly Native American neighborhood, but whatever.  It gets the blood flowing, you know.

ETA:  Upon further reflection, the young gentleman in question may actually have asked me if I "smoked."  Only after thinking about it yesterday did it occur to me that he probably did not mean cigarettes, and that his interest in the question may not have been solely driven out of curiosity.  Hmm.  Another way in which I did not blend, I guess.

Tiny Hardware?

We are in Dinkytown for the first time, with this sign for William Simms Hardware. It's not actually been a hardware store for some time, but I haven't been able to find when it started or stopped functioning in that capacity. I lived not too far away for a couple of years while in college in the late 1990s, so I know the fun ended some time before that. I don't know whether Our Own Hardware was the chain of stores or a franchiser or cooperative, but it was sold out of existence in 1997.

As for origins, Mr. Simms was to be a member of the entertainment committees for the the 1915 National Retail Hardware Convention at the St. Paul Hotel, so it goes back at least to then. Apparently he lived quite close to work (how green of him), near 14th and Hennepin, at least as of 1922. Robert Simms, apparently a descendant of William, owned and operated the store before dying in Wisconsin at the age of 85 in 2003.

The store, on 14th Ave. SE, has been posted to Flickr a few times.

UPDATE:  Apparently I was wrong and it was still an operating hardware store when I lived in the neighborhood.  It closed in 2002.  My excuse is that one does not do many home improvement projects on the crumbling houses of the area that are rented pretty much exclusively to poor college students.

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.