Northeast is one of the most storied parts of Minneapolis with its crazy quilt character. Three well written books entertain a capsule history of the development of Northeast Minneapolis from its earliest days through the 1940s and 50s, a time when everyone knew their neighbors and felt safe on the streets after dark. Each book features the exploration of a community through interviews, photos and research that capture the spirit and soul of the area. The residents tell the stories of their lives, the businesses they created, their parks, schools and old fashioned values. Filled with memories and family names. Come walk the streets of Northeast and enter the churches, homes, small stores, and even a shoemaker shop.
My Background and Why I Wrote
About Northeast Minneapolis
I wanted to read about
Northeast where I was raised. I wanted to know what was it like in the old
days and who were the first settlers. I started digging around, asking
questions. I was fascinated with immigrants and the stories surrounding
their coming over. I had seen other neighborhood books and hoped that
there had been one done on NE. I was surprised that there wasn’t and it
was such a unique area. Before long I had acquired a sizable three ring
notebook containing all my findings with photos, articles, anything I
could find. Then I began to carry my little red notebook around, showing
it to anyone that was interested. So what started with a curiosity had
become a hobby.
Then I got interested in writing and took some classes. My writing always led me back to Northeast Minneapolis where I grew up. It started with little vignettes. I wrote a short piece about Bessie and Joe, the couple that ran the corner store in my neighborhood. A cute little Jewish couple that were so nice and treated my family so warmly. People really seemed to love them. And wanted more stories.
My mother used to tell me these little stories, real short things that happened in the old days. She would say things like "I remember the ragman. He would come down the alley with a horse and buggy, hollering rags! And people would chase him and try and barter.” There were other stories too about the iceman, ice cream cones for a nickel, and the trolley tracks. She kept a diary from 1956 to the time she died in 1984. I think it was her love of history that was passed on to me.