One minute, there are no “ladybugs” in Duluth. Then one sneaks up and nibbles your arm. Suddenly Asian lady beetles are swarming everywhere. And then it’s over. The 2017 invasion happened on the afternoon of Oct. 8.
Asian lady beetles tend to cluster and swarm when daylight hours shorten and a sudden warm spell occurs. They eat aphids while conditions allow, then they quickly disappear.
The World Wrestling Federation — now known as World Wrestling Entertainment — brought a card to Duluth for the third time on Oct. 8, 1987. In the video clip above, Randy “Macho Man” Savage declares his enthusiasm for his first trip to the Zenith City.
Announcer Gene Okerlund mentions Bam Bam Bigelow and Nikolai Volkoff in his opening remarks, but neither of them appeared at the show.
Thirty years ago I attended a World Wrestling Federation card at the Duluth Arena … because that’s something teenage boys did in 1987. I went with a group of friends that included Barrett Chase, who co-founded Perfect Duluth Day 16 years later. Seated directly behind us was a complete stranger. Eventually, the three of us ended up in business together … if you count goofing off on the internet as “business.” I certainly do.
As far as wrestling cards go, this one was pretty mediocre. “Macho Man” Randy Savage was in the main event, which was enough to make it worth the twelve bucks or whatever it cost to get in. A number of other well-known wrestling names were on the bill — Honky Tonk Man, Killer Khan, Junkyard Dog, Sherri Martel, Koko B. Ware, Dan Spivey — but the Macho Man was unequivocally the legend in the room.
Years later, all memory of who won or lost those wrestling matches faded. Barrett and I would end up going to five WWF cards in Duluth during a one-year timeframe spanning May 1987 to May 1988. Those events became mostly mashed together in our brains, but we could somewhat distinguish them by remembering main event matches or which other friends came with us to the shows.
The number of broadcast television stations in Duluth has reached 14. Keeping track of them started getting confusing in 2016, when reorganizing at KBJR/KDLH led to “CBS 3” broadcasting on channel 6.2. In an effort to prevent the whole thing from turning into an Abbott & Costello routine, Perfect Duluth Day periodically provides an updated list of channels.
There have been two changes since the 2016 KDLH/KBJR shuffling. In early 2017 WDSE-TV dropped its “2nd Chance” programming on channel 8.2 and adopted a new broadcasting stream, PBS Explore, which is focused heavily on programs for children. On Sept. 27, WDIO-TV added subchannel 10.3, broadcasting the Ion television network. An updated list is below.
Just because this old photo was stored with a bunch of Duluth pictures doesn’t necessarily mean it was shot in Duluth or features Duluthians. Still, the odds are pretty good someone will recognize Jerry and/or Becky. They looked like pretty cool customers back in August 1970, that’s for sure.
Were they Duluthians? Are they still Duluthians? Who are these hot-rodding sweethearts? All the back of the photo indicates is their first names and the month it was shot.
Duluth’s Jay Sonnenburg found these 1922 photos among his grandfather’s collection. They depict scenes at Athletic Park in West Duluth, where Duluth Central and Denfeld did battle on the gridiron.
Promotional brochure from back in the day. Click the image to view it at a readable size.
Here is yet another “Dutch Kid” pennant postcard, similar to “I hafe a feller in Duluth,” “Mit best wishes from Duluth,” “Vilkome to our city of Duluth” and “Iff you vill come to Duluth ve vill lock up all de cops.”
Because nothing illustrates Duluth exceptionalism better than a postcard gimmick where the same cards are distributed in various places with different city names printed on the pennant, right?
Two years after U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt died in office, First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt traveled to Duluth. While here she was made an Honorary Ambassador Extraordinary of the Dushy of Duluth — the ambassadors program of the Duluth Chamber of Commerce. The photo above shows her receiving the citation from Arthur C. Young, “Prince of the East.”
I had one simple objective that fateful day in December 2016. I just wanted to walk my dog before the sun went down. It seemed like a realistic goal.
After a morning spent working, I had a quick lunch, resumed working and before I knew it the clock read 2:30 p.m. So much for my realistic plan.
I had a dental appointment at 3 p.m. and that was a 20-minute drive away, so it was already time to leave. Since the sun sets around 4:30 in Duluth during December, my opportunity to walk in the daylight had pretty much already passed. Still, I clung to hope.
I actually had two dental appointments back to back that day — a scheduled cleaning and a checkup on the progress of a recent implant, which replaced a molar that had collapsed a few months earlier due to the incredible bite-resistance of a simple graham cracker. Stories of dental calamity aside, by the time I got out of the reclining chair and removed my slobber bib the sun was disappearing. I no longer clung to hope, but I had intentions of making the most of the dusk.
The postmark is smudged and appears to be from May 1913, but the message on the back of the card is dated May 12, 1912. It shows Duluth’s Board of Trade building, which still stands at 301-307 W. First St. It was built in 1894 to replace the original Board of Trade, which was destroyed by fire that year. Duluth architects Oliver G. Traphagen and Francis W. Fitzpatrick designed the new eight-story Romanesque structure.
This old photo of someone’s hot rod seems to be from the early 1970s and the scene is very likely Commonwealth Avenue in Gary-New Duluth. But if this is showing Commonwealth Avenue, where specifically?
If you read my previous essay, you already know I bought a used-but-fancy foreign car and suddenly thought I was hot stuff. Now it’s time to acknowledge I’m an idiot. But before I relate my idiocy with relevance to the car, here’s a general description of the global conspiracy against me:
In my daily life I make approximately one really stupid mistake per waking hour. It is my sincere belief that half of those mistakes occur because my brain feeds me rational information for problem solving, which hinders my performance because there are maniacs out there designing products to work in ways that are contrary to human logic. The other half of those mistakes are cases in which someone tells me to do something and explains it in a nonsensical way or assumes I know something I don’t.
So, while I acknowledge I’m an idiot, I refuse to take responsibility for my idiocy. It’s society’s problem, not mine.
For example, when my wife asks me to zip up the back of her dress, and I zip it all the way up, and then she asks, “Did you get it all the way?” I say “Yes” and go about the rest of my day. Then, at the end of the day, when she takes off her dress and points out that I didn’t connect the hinge on the inside, well, I’m an idiot for not knowing there is a hidden hinge on someone else’s clothing.
But I digress.
When the transmission went haywire on my rusty 1993 van on the day after Thanksgiving 2015, it marked the end of a beautiful seven-year relationship. The ol’ GMC Vandura cost me $1,400 to buy, and while it needed some work here and there, it was a major-league transportation bargain. My average annual cost of driving during those years was $2,200.
To clarify: From mid-2008 to the near-end of 2015 I drove wherever I wanted at an annual cost of $2,200. That number includes fuel, insurance, purchase price, repair and maintenance costs and all other fees. Six bucks a day to go anywhere – basically the same price as a daily pint of craft beer at the trendiest joint in town.
For many months after the tranny crapped out on the van, I continued to drive it short distances on flat roads, shifting into neutral when it fell out of gear, then shifting back into drive. If I needed to go somewhere involving hills or highways, I took a bus or arranged to use my wife’s vehicle. I just wasn’t eager to go car shopping. I figured I’d wait for a car to come to me.
And then a car came to me.
