Hi Roger,
I love Duluth. It’s amazing. I live downtown with a view of the lake and South Shore, a three-minute bike ride from a twice-daily swim in our grandmotherly lake. I talk to my kids about how we shower in her, cook with her, drink her, swim in her, fish in her, water our tomatoes.
I mean, Duluth Coffee Kitchen is right there. What a blessing.
I love Duluth in all it’s menace and beauty. I see it growing. I see it flourishing. And I see it floundering.
I am always excited by the Minnesota State Fair. At one point I had attended every year for a 20-year stretch. I attended six days in one year; another year, I returned home from England early just so I could squeeze one day in.
You’ve probably noticed most things are more expensive these days. But reading Perfect Duluth Day is just as free as it has always been.
Keeping Duluth’s Duluthiest website running with new content every day, however, comes with a price tag. That’s why we occasionally toss up a post like this one to remind everyone that PDD can always be better or worse based on cash flow, so donations are a big help.
Testimony of Mary Nettleton, from the 1898 Annual Report of the United States Life-Saving Service, chapter heading “Log of the Park Point, Duluth Station” (Lake Superior Maritime Museum archives):
I sailed for a year aboard a sunken ship, the wooden schooner-barge Ophelia. She sank on October 15, 1897 in Canadian waters, downbound for Duluth from Thunder Bay. I was finally rescued from the air pocket in her drowned saloon on October 12, 1898, having drifted 150 miles underwater to Duluth. The Ophelia arrived a year behind schedule, crossing the open border between the living and the dead. As to my miraculous survival, doctors and scientists set upon me to solve it. I have become an object of curiosity; fear also.
Sinking
I first encountered the Ophelia on a dock in Buffalo where I signed to be the ship’s cook. I was the only woman aboard. Originally a passenger ship, she couldn’t compete against steam power, so her owners ripped out the passenger suites in favor of three large cargo holds. The windjammer-turned-barge retained classy touches like her oversized saloon. We sailed three of the five Great Lakes in tow of the wooden steamer Harlow, who rode heavy before the gale that snapped the towline and drove us apart. The blow ripped away what rigging could be raised and then downed both our masts. But it wasn’t the mountainous seas that sank us. It was a spar snapped off the deck of the Harlow that staved a hole in our bow. The pumps couldn’t keep up.
Tomorrow, FinnFest starts in Duluth. It is an annual event that has been held all over the United States. According to the website, “FinnFest USA creates a broad national community involving all Finnish Americans, Finnish citizens living in America, and all Americans interested in Finland and/or Finnish America.”
While I often avoid politics in my public writings, I want to take a few minutes to explain the life of someone different from most people, in a small way, that may reveal the complexities of some recent legislation proposed at the federal level.
I’ll call him John.
He lives in a doorway near Chum, which is apparently where he obtains enough nutrients to survive. If John is not in his doorway, he’s usually circling the neighborhood yelling at the invisible people who are yelling at him. They must be saying terrible things, because he is always telling them how it is they who are the worthless fucking motherfuckers, not him.
Duluth’s Duluthiest website was launched 21 years ago today. Join us for a party on the beach at Park Point at 5 p.m. as the Park Point Art Fair wraps up.
On Saturday, June 29, Perfect Duluth Day will be 21 years old. Because the anniversary falls on a day loaded with events, we’ve decided to loosely piggyback on one of them and hold our little birthday party on Park Point Beach as the Park Point Art Fair wraps up. We hope you’ll join us.
It probably happens everywhere just as much as it happens in Duluth. Someone intentionally replaces the name of a well-known person, place or thing with a similar sounding word or words, almost always in a belittling way, and other people think it’s funny and repeat it.
There should be a list of those, right? Well, here it is.
When I’m out walking and I see a plastic bag stuck in a tree, I always point it out to anyone who might be around and say, “Hey look, a West Duluth owl.” It’s a stupid joke that doesn’t get much of a reaction, but hey, so am I.
Making cheesy remarks might be the best action in that situation. There’s a clump of ugly garbage stuck in a beautiful tree, and my options for how to deal with it are to climb the tree or use a long device of some kind to somehow remove the bag, ignore the situation altogether, or pretend like I wanted that bag to be there all along to support the comedy of life.
I have similar statements I repeat all the time. If my childhood friend is telling me about her cancer diagnosis, for example, I’ll say, “I told you not to go swimming downstream of the steel plant.”
The tragedy behind the comedy boils down to something pretty simple: I want a clean environment, but I know that’s unrealistic. It’s also confusing, because a clean environment contains a lot of dirt. And seriously, a clean planet and a polluted planet are made up of the same things; the difference is how those things are arranged.
Nichol and Tony Hommerding, owners of The Vintage Hideaway. (Submitted photo)
A thrift and antique store in Hermantown has brought a fresh take on antiquing and thrifting in the Twin Ports. The Vintage Hideaway focuses on uniquely staging items, restoring pieces looking for a little bit of love and creating a welcoming environment by offering coffee and snacks in its pantry.
