Aerial view of West Duluth, 1970

Circa 1970

This News Tribune file photo shows Interstate 35 under construction through West Duluth. It has two dates written on the back – 1969 and 1970 – so perhaps an alert reader can pick out some details from this image to determine which year is correct.

This photo certainly shows how important Cody Street was as an entrance to Duluth before the freeway was completed.

Click on the photo for a much larger version of the image. Here are a couple of zoomed-in views, starting with the West Duluth commercial district (this was a time before Kmart and Super One):

And here’s the area around Laura MacArthur School, what was then Shoppers City and the long-gone railroad viaduct:

Here are links to a couple of past Attic posts on West Duluth:

West Duluth, early 1980s

West Duluth before the paper mill, 1986

What interesting things do you spot in these photos? Share your observations and memories by posting a comment.

The bars of North Fifth Street in Superior, 1978

October 15, 1978

Bars line the north side of North Fifth Street in Superior on Oct. 15, 1978. (Charles Curtis / News-Tribune)

Does the scene above look familiar? If so, you have a pretty good memory, because all but one of these bars lining North Fifth Street in Superior have been gone for years. The stop sign by the vintage van marks the corner of Ogden Avenue in this view looking east. From left to right, the bars visible here are the Heartbreak Bar, Burke’s Place, the 5th Street Hotel, High Times Saloon, Nickel Street Saloon, the Viking Lounge and the Handlebar. Click on the photo for a much larger image.

This area was largely cleared to make way for commercial and industrial development in the 1970s and 1980s. Here’s the same stretch of North Fifth Street today:

A surviving tavern is the Viking at the corner of Fifth and Hughitt, visible in the distance with the same vertical LIQUORS sign as it had in 1978. Here’s a close-up present-day view:

There may be one other tavern structure still standings – is the “Handlebar” in the distance in the 1978 photo the same building that houses Schultz’s Sports Bar today? I don’t know.

So when did all those bars get torn down? Was it all at once, or did it happen over a few years? Again, I don’t know, so perhaps one of you can fill in some details.

A March 29, 1981, News Tribune article on the redevelopment effort in the North End mentioned how “the project is creating open spaces in the once heavily settled district between Tower and Hammond avenues and North Third and the east-west rail corridor at Eighth Street.

“The 20-square-blocks are being transformed from one of old frame houses ‘so close together neighbors could shake hands through open windows’ to an area of potential high value as a commercial and light industrial district, Superior community development specialist James Kumbera said.”

The city was buying up houses as it could and demolishing them to create large areas of open land.

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What are your memories of the bars along North Fifth Street? What more information can you offer about when they were torn down? Share your memories by posting a comment.

37th anniversary of the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald

 

The freighter Edmund Fitzgerald is guided by the tug Vermont under the Blatnik Bridge and through the opening in the Interstate Bridge, circa 1960. (News-Tribune file photo)

Today – Nov. 10, 2012 – is the 37th anniversary of the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald in a powerful Lake Superior storm. The crew of 29, including several men from the Northland, died when ship, heading from Superior to Detroit with a load of taconite, sank off Whitefish Point in eastern Lake Superior on Nov. 10, 1975.

A little after 7 p.m. that day, the Fitzgerald was in radio contact with the nearby Arthur M. Anderson, and reported that they were “holding our own” in heavy seas. There was no further contact with the freighter; minutes later the ship had disappeared from radar screens.

I compiled a number of archive photos and other information about the Fitzgerald in 2010, on the 35th anniversary of the wreck. You can view that post here.

Among the items posted there is this well-done video for Gordon Lightfoot’s famous song about the wreck:

Split Rock Lighthouse northeast of Two Harbors will host its annual beacon lighting and memorial service for the victims of the Fitzgerald, and all Great Lakes wrecks, this afternoon. They will toll a bell 29 times for each man who lost his life on the Fitzgerald, and then toll the bell a 30th time for all lost mariners. After that, the lighthouse’s beacon will be lit. Find more information about the ceremony here.

Here’s a News Tribune video of the Nov. 10, 2011, memorial ceremony at Split Rock:

And here’s a photo I took a little later that afternoon, of the lighthouse shining out over Lake Superior from its lofty perch:

Share your stories and memories by posting a comment.

George McGovern in the Twin Ports

Former Democratic U.S. Senator and presidential candidate George McGovern of South Dakota died Sunday at age 90.

He made at least two stops in Duluth during his political career, mostly notably on Sept. 8, 1972, during his ultimately unsuccessful presidential campaign against Richard Nixon.

Here are some photos from that visit (and one from 1970). Some of these images from the News Tribune archives had caption information; others did not. If you can fill in any of the gaps or have memories to share, please post a comment:

Democratic presidential candidate George McGovern walks with an entourage of reporters, staff members, security and local officials at the Duluth airport during a visit to the Twin Ports on Sept. 8, 1972. McGovern made a quick campaign stop in the Northland that day, briefly meeting with supporters at the airport before taking a tour of the Farmers Union Grain Terminal Association elevator in Superior, where he donned a hard hat and watched grain being unloaded from a railroad car. Two months later, he lost the 1972 presidential election to Richard Nixon. (News-Tribune file photo)

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George McGovern (second from left) is joined by (from left) Rep. Jack LaVoy of Duluth, Bill Walker of Cass Lake (elected official? candidate?) and Wisconsin Lt. Gov. Martin Schreiber at the Duluth airport on McGovern’s visit to Duluth on Sept. 8, 1972. (News-Tribune file photo)

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Democratic presidential candidate George McGovern (left) gets a tour of the Farmers Union Grain Terminal Association elevator in Superior from general manager B.J. Malusky on Sept. 8, 1972. (News-Tribune file photo)

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The scene outside the Farmers Union Grain Terminal Association elevator in Superior during a visit by Democratic presidential candidate George McGovern on Sept. 8, 1972. (News-Tribune file photo)

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Democratic presidential candidate George McGovern (bottom center) gets a tour of the Farmers Union Grain Terminal Association elevator in Superior on Sept. 8, 1972. (News-Tribune file photo)

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Democratic presidential candidate George McGovern (second from left) walks from his plane at the Duluth airport on Sept. 8, 1972. At left is Wisconsin Lt. Gov. Martin Schreiber; others are not identified. (News-Tribune file photo)

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U.S. Sen. George McGovern (left) visits Duluth on April 12, 1970. Joining him in this photo are (from left) Stanley Breen, chairman of the city’s DFL coordinating committee; Rep. John Blatnik of Duluth; and James Glazman, 61st District (DFL?) chairman. (Charles Curtis / News-Tribune)

Explosion at Laura MacArthur School, 1982

Story printed September 28, 1982

Apprehension and excitement show on the faces of first-graders outside Laura MacArthur-West Elementary School following a boiler explosion on September 27, 1982. They’re waiting with teachers Gail Olson and Evelyn Clancy. Click on the photo for a larger version. (Jack Rendulich / News-Tribune & Herald)

Boiler room explosion rocks elementary school; 2 injured

By Barbara Kucera, News-Tribune & Herald staff writer

More than 700 pupls will stay home today from Laura MacArthur-West Elementary School in West Duluth after an explosion in the boiler room rocked the school Monday.

The school will remain closed at least two days, said Franklin Bradshaw, director of elementary education for the Duluth public schools.

Two men were injured in the explosion, which occurred about 11 a.m. Richard Meadowcroft, a school engineer, and Lyle “Butch” Seeley, an employee of General Heating and Engineering Co., were reported in satisfactory condition Monday in Miller-Dwan Hospital. They suffered first-degree burns on their faces and hands.

No pupils or teachers were injured in the blast.

Two boilers, located in the former West Junior High School at 725 N. Central Ave., provided heat for both the West and MacArthur buildings. The boilers were rendered inoperable by the explosion.

“At this point, we’re assuming that after a couple of days, we’ll have that boiler fixed,” Bradshaw said.

Firefighters prepare to remove windows damaged by the boiler explosion at Laura MacArthur-West Elementary School. (Charles Curtis / News-Tribune & Herald)

The two men were working on the boilers when “apparently there was some kind of a malfunction,” said LeRoy Moore, director of physical plant for the school system.

The explosion occurred in the stack connecting the two boilers with the chimney, Moore said.

Fire officials said the blast occurred because of a buildup of gas in the stack, but they do not know what ignited the gas. An investigation was continuing Monday. Neither fire nor school officials had a dollar estimate of the damage.

After the explosion, the fire bell sounded and the school was evacuated. Three engine companies, two ladder trucks, two rescue squads and an assistant chief responded to the alarm, but no fire followed the blast.

About 45 minutes later – after firefighters checked the blast scene – pupils and school employees were allowed back in the school.

Richard Meadowcroft, a school engineer at Laura MacArthur-West Elementary School, winces as distilled water is poured over burns on his head by paramedic Ken Danelski, Firefighter Rick Raimo assists. (Jack Rendulich / News-Tribune & Herald)

Damage was confined to the basement and an entrance to the school located on the floor above the boiler room.

The blast caused some cracks in the walls in adjoining rooms, and shattered windows at the school entrance on the next floor.

Bradshaw said school officials are not sure the boilers can be fixed in two days. Parents will be notified when they can send their children back to school, he said.

“We can’t have the children sitting in a classroom without heat,” Bradshaw said. Busing to other schools isn’t possible because not enough space is available to house the 710 MacArthur-West pupils, he said.

The hall next to the boiler room was damaged by the explosion at Laura MacArthur-West Elementary School in West Duluth on Sept. 27, 1982. Two people were injured. (Charles Curtis / News-Tribune & Herald)

The boiler room was extensively damaged by the explosion. (Charles Curtis / News-Tribune & Herald)

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Demolition is under way at the former Laura MacArthur School in West Duluth, which closed at the end of the 2010-11 school year. The new Laura MacArthur Elementary School stands across Central Avenue.

Here’s some information about the school’s history, from a May 2011 issue of the News Tribune: The original 1914 wing of the old school was the original Denfeld High School. When the present Denfeld opened in 1926, it became West Junior High. The elementary wing opened in 1957; it shared a cafeteria and administrative offices with West Junior High and was named Laura MacArthur after a longtime Duluth educator. West Junior High closed in the 1970s, and the entire complex became an elementary school.

Here are some more Laura MacArthur photos from the News Tribune files:

Laura MacArthur Elementary School, as seen from Central Avenue in 1959; click on the photo for a larger version. (News Tribune file photo)

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Community Schools students at Laura MacArthur work on a mural on July 16, 1979. The students were working with artist Mary McDunn of Duluth. Click on the photo for a larger version; note the use of Kentucky Fried Chicken buckets as paint pails. (Joey McLeister / News-Tribune)

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High fashion at Laura MacArthur-West: Modeling can be a tough business, as second-grader Jeremy Hagen found as he wrestled with a sweatshirt while trying to take it off to show a shirt underneath during a fashion show at the school on March 17, 1986. (Bob King / News-Tribune)

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Mary Holz helps her daughter Mandi Anderson, 7, put on a pair of dainty gloves prior to her getting on stage for a fashion show at Laura MacArthur-West Elementary School in West Duluth on March 17, 1986. (Bob King / News-Tribune)

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Students at Laura MacArthur-West Elementary School listen to the Duluth Accordionaires perform in the school auditorium on March 7, 1986. (John Rott / News-Tribune)

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Share your memories by posting a comment.

Newfangled ‘electronic’ mail, 1976

When I’m looking for something on microfilm of old papers, I find a lot of other interesting stories and ads – sometime much more interesting than what I was searching for in the first place.

Here’s one such item. from the Sunday, June 20, 1976, issue of the News-Tribune. It has nothing to do with Duluth specifically, but I found it amusing to see how much times and technology have changed:

Electronic mail eyed

Associated Press

WASHINGTON – The Postal Service is taking the first steps toward establishing an electronic mail system that promises overnight delivery of letters at a price no higher than current rates.

The mail agency has signed a $2.2 million contract with the RCA Corp. to study what alternatives are available to the Postal Service in the area of computerized message systems.

“We know it is technologically feasible to have a national electronic message service. We could do it today,” said Ralph Marcotte, Postal Service project manager for the RCA contract.

“The question we want answered now is whether there is a national market for it,” he said. “The chances are very good that the study will come up with at least one alternative that is economically feasible and that would be accepted by the public.”

Technology exists to use leased lines, facsimile devices, communications satellites and other devices to send messages electronically.

One possible application is for the Postal Service to establish “electronic mail kiosks” at such places as shopping centers. A person could enter a message written in block letters into a machine equipped with optical character readers that could convert the message into digital form.

The message then could be transmitted to a Postal Service receiving unit near the addressee. A computer printout of the message could be delivered with the next day’s mail.

Another possibility is for a business to link its own computer electronically with that of the nearest Postal Service message station. “His computer would talk to our computer and then ours would send the message electronically, Marcotte said.

The message could be received by computer by the addressee or a printout could be delivered conventionally.

“The cost of sending a onepage business document would be as low as a nickel per page, not including any delivery costs,” he said.

Marcotte said the chances appear good for delivering an electronic letter for the same or less than the current 13-cent price of a first-class letter.

One potential problem with electronic mail is that private companies now entering the field of electronic message systems may complain about competition from the government.

Marcotte said systems run by private enterprise ”would tend to go along routes of high profitability and high usage” while the Postal Service would try to serve all areas of the country.

Officials point out that the Postal Service already has a nationwide delivery network, an asset that companies do not have.

An electronic system would enable the Postal Service to save considerable mail handling. The Postal Service now employs about 700,000 workers, nearly 1 per cent of the American labor force, in moving the mail.

Postal officials say another possible advantage to the agency would be that electronic mail could recover business that the Postal Service has been losing in recent years. Use of the mail has been declining, partly because of rising mail rates and partly because of the increasing use of privately owned electronic communications at the expense of the U.S. mail.

The Postal Service could begin offering an electronic mail service ”as soon as three years from now if everything goes right,” Marcotte said.

”We have the obvious option of growing in steps as demand for the service grows. We could start with leased lines and then later go to satellites, for example,” he said.

Marcotte said a possible ”second generation” is for people to buy a ”black box” to receive mail electronically in his own home. This is not feasible yet, he said.

Marcotte said electronic mail ”would be a supplement to the present first-class mail and eventually might be a substitute.” He concedes that this ”would be a rather radical departure from the present postal system. It certainly would change our image.”

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Share your stories and memories by posting a comment.

Remembering KDAL overnight DJ ‘Little Joe’ Laznick

April 10, 1966

Former taxi, truck and ambulance driver turned disc jockey Joseph “Little Joe” Laznick keeps watch over his nighttime family in this photo from April 1966. (Charles Curtis / News-Tribune)

Pre-Dawn Jockey

Little Joe Spins Night Away

By Wayne Wangstad, News-Tribune staff writer

A world of grooved plastic spins away the time for a nightworker who entertains the restless during the early hours of a new day.

Between those midnight to 6 a.m. hours, KDAL radio’s “Little Joe” plies his trade as a disc jockey, keeping watch over what he calls his nighttime “family.”

Little Joe – the moniker follows the parallel of Robin Hood’s Little John, only with reference to girth – has never used his own name, Joseph M. Laznick, on the air. He prefers to be known by the self-selected name that leaves little else to be said.

Most radio listeners tune their ear to an announcer’s voice, then come up with an image of what he looks like. A woman, for instance, may hear a deep, resounding voice and, in her mind, view the man as a handsome fugitive from Muscle Beach. Oh, the disappointment when she sees he’s a scrawny, crow-like 98-pound weakling.

An image had been formed before the interview with Little Joe. But the graying, skinny, guitar-carrying man was not to be found. Looking younger than his 32 years, the DJ was surprising only because the “Little Joe” analogy had not registered. The most important thing, that friendly, smiling voice that see other nightworkers home, was there, however.

A former taxi, truck and ambulance driver turned radio announcer, Liitle Joe concurs with other nocturnal working types. He likes night work – and has more than 10 years of it under his Jackie Gleason-like belt. “Jackie Gleason,” Little Joe jokes, “and I would have something in common except that I’m fatter and he makes a million dollars a year.”

Armed with a folksy resonant voice touched with a slight nasal twang, which sometimes sounds as though he were rhythmically rolling marbles from one side of his jowls to another, Little Joe works alone yet has the company of hundreds of other nightworkers.

“Night is a lonely time,” he said with his sincere, homespun inflection. “Any person who works nights must (he emphasized that word) be a night person himself. And he must understand the motives of this type of person,” he insisted.

Little Joe’s musical format, as he describes it, is “everything.” That means he plays everything from country western to the long-hair stuff, including listener requests.

KDAL nighttime DJ “Little Joe” Laznick in the studio on Oct. 15, 1978. (Joey McLeister / News-Tribune)

Explaining that his show is best described as “public service radio” – news, weather, sports and music – Little Joe says he keeps in touch with an after-sundown family composed of doctors, lawyers, steelworkers, police and firemen and insomniacs. Unable to get desired information from the morning newspaper, which has not yet arrived, or from television, then no longer on the air, they call the night disc jockey.

Two particular occasions brought a flood of phone calls, the radio announcer revealed. Steelworkers concerned over a threatened strike phoned for information, as did parents of men stationed in Alaska when an earthquake spread trembling havoc there.

The phone calls, Little Joe asserts, make up his “family.”

“Night people are a funny family,” he offered. “Women may call me up and tell me about their husband’s job promotion, or that he got fired. Or they may want advice on a job transfer.”

No all of the “family” calls are congenial, however. “Some of the family cal me up and bawl me out when I do something wrong,” he revealed.

“These people are not kooks,” Joe said as a bit of the friendly homespun air in his voice was replaced with fiery conviction. “These people are lonely. … If they have a problem of if they’re crying, I usually try to find time to talk to them and try to help them.”

A night nurse at a Duluth hospital, Little Joe explained, is typical of the callers. “She phoned and said ‘I won’t be calling the next three nights because I’m off (work)’ ” the DJ said.

Anything unusual about the night work? “The oddity of this type of work,” the announcer insisted, “is the closeness of strangers. You have a bond that’s probably best explained by a mutual dependency.

Several Twin Ports mothers, for instance, have a certain dependency on Little Joe when their children refuse to go to bed. “They’ll ask that I tell the kids to go to bed. Surprisingly, most of the mothers call back and explain that the kids have done what they were told after I’ve talked with them,” he said.

The rotund disc jockey, who races stock cars as a hobby, stands aside from most other nightworkers’ waking-sleeping hours. Off at 6 a.m., he usually goes home then has breakfast and stays up until 3 p.m., when he goes to bed. Then it’s up at 10:30 p.m. to meet his on-air deadline when the hands of the clock are straight up. Unlike most after-sundown workers on the slumber angle, he is like others in that he can participate in most social activities because of his late working hours.

What’s his retort to the sunshine workers? “At 2 p.m., when the sun is highest, you can’t go out for a ride, but I can. And when it’s midnight and you’re just going to bed, I’m just starting to have my fun,” was his prompt reply.

In radio for nearly 2 1/2 years now, about a year of it at KDAL, Little Joe fill several slots in his solo night trick. Shagging records for requests, checking sources and preparing stories for upcoming newscasts consumes a good share of his time. Occasionally, he will interview a recording artist or entertainer on his show.

The DJ’s longest stint, 7 p.m. Saturday to 3 a.m. Sunday, is followed by his only night off.

Any conclusions about working when most people are sleeping? Little Joe used that friendly, folksy voice to paraphrase something he’d mentioned earlier. “You have to be genuinely and seriously interested in – and understand – night people.” Just what he meant by that was not clear, but it was evident that he was talking about that undefinable thing which he likes so much, his radio “family.”

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Joseph “Little Joe” Laznick, February 1974 (News-Tribune photo)

In February 1980, the Duluth Herald reported that Little Joe Laznick, then hosting the all-night “Vacationland Calling” show on KDAL, had “received a substantial bequest from an anonymous listener.”

Under conditions of the 71-year-old woman’s will, Laznick was not allowed to give her name or reveal the size of the bequest. But he said he was told the woman left him the money “because I comforted her by playing music on the radio and chatting with her on the phone” during his all-night broadcasts.

He continued on the all-night show until about 1984, and also played bass and sang with the local band the Du-Als. In June 1987, the News-Tribune reported that Laznick was suffering from kidney disease and needed a transplant; friends organized several benefits for him. He died on Dec. 14, 1987, at age 54.

Archive aerial views of the Twin Ports

I came across two (and was e-mailed a third) old aerial photos of the Twin Ports. Here they are (click on the photos for a larger view):

View over the West End and the Rice’s Point rail yards toward the Blatnik Bridge, 1970. (News Tribune file photo)

This photo shows construction of Interstate 35 (and I-535), including parts of the “Can of Worms” interchange, in 1970. The Blatnik Bridge, seen in the distance, had already been open for several years at the time of this photo; its traffic was directed onto Garfield Avenue (where you can see part of Goldfine’s-by-the-Bridge Department Store).

The photo also captures a sliver of the West End business district. Here’s a closer view of Superior Street:

From left to right, you can see a DX service station / car wash; Enger & Olson furniture (with J & J Phillips 66 service station across Superior Street); 19th Avenue West; and the West End Liquor Store, with a billboard on the side that reads “Scotch Scotch” (perhaps Ron Burgundy could have shopped there back in the day).

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Here’s a view of the Burlington Northern ore docks in Superior from 1977. The Mesabi Miner is berthed at the ore dock on the right. On the left, the nearer boat has “Inland Steel” on its side; I can’t make out the ship name, but it looks like the distinctive Edward L. Ryerson, which currently is in long-term layup at Fraser Shipyards just a few miles from where this photo was taken. The name of the third boat can’t been read in this picture.

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And courtesy of Gary Androsky over at the Superior Telegram, here’s an image from the Telegram’s files of Interstate 35 being extended through downtown Duluth in the 1980s – the tunnels are under construction in this view, which also provides a good look at much of downtown; click on the photo for a much larger image.

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Hollywood comes to Duluth, 40 years ago

Actress Patty Duke takes a break during the filming of the movie “You’ll Like My Mother” at French River near Duluth in early March 1972. Chatting with her is Jim Bishop, a public relations representative for Universal Studios-Bing Crosby Productions, producers of the film. The Duluth Transit Authority mini-bus in the background is being used in the film. Shooting continues despite inclement weather; the principal reason the company is in Duluth is to take advantage of the snow which figures in the plot of the film. (News-Tribune file photo)

At this time 40 years ago, Duluth was getting a dose of Hollywood fame as actress Patty Duke was in town, along with other actors and a full film crew, to shoot the movie “You’ll Like My Mother.” The thriller was filmed mostly at Glensheen (then the Congdon mansion), with the rest shot along the North Shore, as seen above.

Here’s an article that ran in March 1972 about locals who took part in the filming:

16 Duluthians enjoy movie experiences

By Keith Thomsen of the News-Tribune staff

“Lights! Camera! Action!”

Sixteen Duluthians, most of them actors from the Duluth Playhouse, found it hard to believe those words when they heard them. But there, right in front of them, was a real Hollywood movie dude, complete with a clapboard with the “take” number on it, just like.. well, just like you see in the movies. And they were on it!

These lucky Duluthians were all chosen to be stand-ins or extras in the film, “You’ll Like My Mother,” starring Patty Duke. Parts of the movie were shot at the Congdon Estate, a French River store, and various locations along the North Shore during the past two months.

Those who were chosen to be stand-ins did literally that; they stood in the places of the real actors while cameras were focused and lights were adjusted for the next scene to be filmed.

One of them, Miss Elizabeth Petrovic, 1914 E. 1st St., explained the qualifications of a stand-in. She said it was important that a stand-in have approximately the same height, complexion, and hair color as the actor he or she was substituting for. The stand-in walked through the actions the real actor was supposed to do in the scene while lighting men checked and adjusted the lights to make sure the film would be properly exposed when the real filming commenced.

Mrs. Peggy Stocco, 2603 E. 6th St., who stood in for Patty Duke, said this process often took and hour or more. She was never bored, but she was very impressed by all the time-consuming work and painstaking care that goes into preparing a scene in a movie even before the star appears. She estimated that she put in 200 hours as a stand-in while the film crew was in Duluth.

Most of the Duluthians in the movie were extras in a scene involving a passenger bus stopping at a country store. In the movie, there is a blizzard in progress as Miss Duke gets off the bus on her way to visit her dead husband’s mother.

The extras from Duluth played passengers on that bus. They were dressed like ordinary people and were supposed to look like typical passengers.

For example, Miss Madeline McGee, 109 N. 8th Ave. E, said she and Mrs. Myrtle Marshall, 4321 McCullough St., played “two old biddies” who stare disapprovingly at a pregnant hippie girl.

Mrs. Marshall laughed as she described herself as an old biddy and said she didn’t mind that casting at all. “I was just thrilled pink to be in the movies!”

The extras on the bus sequence didn’t have the glamorous roles that people associate with Hollywood movies, however. Their acting careers consisted of getting on and off a bus out at French River in a blizzard.

Mrs. Burnice Webb, 3710 E. 4th St., described very graphically what it was like to be an extra in a blizzard.

“The wind was blowing so hard. And it was cold! We ran through the scene three times in the morning and thought we had getting on and off a bus down perfectly. That afternoon the storm got worse. Something would go wrong every time we went through the scene. The store window they were photographing through would fog up or a snowplow that was supposed to go through the scene at a certain time would miss his cue and spoil the whole thing. Then we’d have to wait for snow to pile up so he’d have something to plow.

“By the seventh or eighth ‘take’ I was such a mess! The wind was blowing so hard! And as I was going out to get on that bus one more time, Patty Duke said, ‘Aren’t you glad you had your hair done to be in the movie?’ And I didn’t even look like I had hair by that time!”

Patty Duke (right) and others on a location shoot for the film “You’ll Like My Mother” near Duluth in March 1972. This picture carries no more caption info; do you know who the other people are? If so, please post a comment. (News-Tribune file photo)

Bill Francis of Oliver, another extra in the sequence, said some of the takes would be going perfectly and then some old farmer would drive into the store where they were shooting, just like nothing was happening there, in spite of all the policemen, technicians, actors, buses, trucks, lights, etc. sitting around. The whole movie would have to stop until he bought his ring of baloney or something and left.

It took almost 12 hours to get that scene. The extras had to report to the Radisson Duluth Hotel at 7 a.m. that morning and they didn’t get home until 7 or 7:30 that night. Much of their day was spent waiting around in the cold for the next attempt to film the scene.

For this work the extras got the Minnesota minimum wage, $1.25 an hour. Roger Oman, 430 E. 13th St., another extra, said the bus and truck drivers hired to take them out there got paid three times as much as the local actors.

Some of the extras were a little luckier and got speaking roles. The Screen Guild, an actors’ union, has rules to the effect that anyone who says anything in a movie is classified as an actor and is therefore entitled to union scale pay, about $140 per day.

As a result, Jim Glazman, 1811 Vermilion Road, got quite a boost in pay just for saying, “Just stay on the road, you can’t miss it.”

“Actually I wasn’t chosen for that speaking role because of my great speaking ability,” he explained. “I got the part because I’ve got a blue bakery truck.”

The director of the movie wanted a bakery truck to pull into the store just as the bus was leaving it. But all the bakery trucks in town are painted white, and wouldn’t photograph well in the snow storm. Then the director happened to see Glazman’s bakery truck on the street and inquired about using it. When the director found out he had done some acting at the Playhouse, Glazman got the part.

So, while some stars are discovered because of their handsome faces or charming manners, Glazman got into the movies because he owns a blue truck.

“I get kidded about that an awful lot down at work,” he admitted ruefully.

Despite the long hours and low pay, all the Duluthians who were in the movie enjoyed their experiences immensely.

All of them said they were particularly impressed by the hard work, expense, and painstaking care that the professional moviemakers put into making even the shortest scene in a movie. The Hollywood crew normally worked from 7 in the morning till 6:30 or 7 at night, six days a week. Mary Ann Modeen, 1821 Melrose Ave., a stand-in, estimated that the company had a staff of about 50 people, besides stand-ins and extras.

At the filming of the bus sequence out at French River, the movie studio had its regular crew on the job, and had chartered a number of trucks and buses, a snowplow and a store. After ten hours of work, they had covered a total seven pages of dialogue and had three and a half minutes of film to show for their efforts, said Win Dostal, 628 Spear St., an extra in the scene. Mrs. Webb added that they were all elated that they had gotten so much done that day.

Even in that 3 1/2-minute scene the movie people left nothing to chance. They would film the scene again and again to get it perfect, no matter what it cost them.

When the snowflakes in the blizzard that day proved too small to photograph well, they got out their own artificial snow.

Dostal said the moviemakers had planned so well that they even had two kinds of artificial snow with them, No. 15 and no. 20 vinyl snow. Dostal said nobody has really lived until they’ve stood in a blizzard with “the wind blowing like hell,” being pelted with handfuls of No. 15 vinyl snow.

The extras and stand-ins all said that even though the filmmakers from California were very professional, they were also very friendly. Mrs. Beverly Sturm, 2221 E. 4th St., who was a stand-in, extra, and local extra talent coordinator for the movie, said she had made many friends on the crew and had been invited to visit some of them in Southern California.

Mrs. Sturm said Miss Duke was particularly nice to everyone in the movie. According to Mrs. Sturm, she addressed everyone by their first names and invited them all to a farewell party at the Radisson last week.

Charles Jasper of Oliver, who was a stand-in, was particularly impressed by Miss Duke’s acting ability. “She could be talking and laughing with you one minute and then go and play a rape scene the next and really make you believe it!”

Those of the extras and stand-ins who had acting experience said they thought it was much easier to act in a movie. Jim Neuman, 511 N. 19th Ave. W, who had a speaking role in the movie as a clerk in a store, said he only had to learn a few lines at a time and could concentrate on putting all of his ability into a few words or even into a single emotion. On the stage, he said, an actor has to learn his lines for a whole play and has to pace himself for a whole performance, not just for a few seconds while the cameras are filming.

All Duluthians in the movie said the would definitely go to see “You’ll Like My Mother” when it premieres here early next fall. “I’ll probably see it 10 times,” said Mrs. Sturm. Mrs. Stocco said she “could hardly wait to see it.”

Strangely, only two of the 16 who were in the movie would admit that they had had any hopes of being discovered by Hollywood directors and producers and spirited off to Southern California for a glamorous film career. Most of them pooh-poohed the idea and said they never thought of such a thing.

It should be noted, however, that most of them jumped at the chance to be in the movie. They left children with baby sitters, they took days of their vacation to be in it. Some of them took emergency leave, and French leave, from their jobs in order to be in the movie. One of them even hired someone to take her job temporarily so she could be an extra.

Only Tom Torrison, 1907 Columbus Ave., and Miss McGee admitted they had thought of the possibility of being discovered. “It runs in the back of your mind,” said Torrison. “But basically you know better.”

Miss McGee said, “We can all have our dreams, you know.”

— end —

Actress Patty Duke films a scene for “You’ll Like My Mother” along the North Shore in early March 1972. (News-Tribune file photo)

Patty Duke was hospitalized at St. Luke’s for several days during the weeks-long film shoot in Duluth because of a kidney ailment. Filming started in February and continued into March.

She told the Duluth Herald during her stay here that “Duluth is terrific. … I’m not crazy about being cold, though. The best thing about it is the people here. They are all so friendly.”

The movie was shot in Duluth, the Herald reported, because of a newspaper story about the Congdon mansion. The movie’s producer had friends with relatives in Duluth, and he became aware of the story and the mansion through them – and it was chosen as the set.

“You’ll Like My Mother” opened in Duluth on Nov. 4, 1972, at the Norshor – you can see it on the marquee of the Norshor in this Christmas City of the North parade photo from later that month.

“‘You’ll Like My Mother’ will not eclipse ‘Psycho’ or ‘What Ever Happened to Baby Jane’ as thrillers go, but it’s a taut psychological drama with little love and some violence,” the News-Tribune’s Jim Heffernan wrote in the next day’s paper. “The star performer has to be the Congdon home and carriage house. For so many Duluthians who have admired it from the outside, it will be a treat to follow the color camera through its paneled corridors, carved stairways and beautifully appointed rooms.”

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Duluth’s most flammable building?

This view from the 11th floor of the Medical Arts Building shows the extent of the damage to scaffolding on the Northwestern Bell building after a fire on Nov. 27, 1983. (Jack Rendulich / News Tribune)

This is a “best of the Attic” post – something I originally posted on this blog more than four years ago, but which many of you may not have seen yet.

In the early 1980s, the Northwestern Bell building in downtown Duluth was plagued by never-ending repairs that left it sheathed in scaffolding for years. And then, twice, that scaffolding burned in what were described as “spectacular” fires. The photo above is the aftermath of the first; here’s a photo of the smoke plume from the second:

Thick, black smoke rises from the Northwestern Bell Telephone Co. in downtown Duluth on Wednesday after scaffolding on the building caught fire on Jan. 16, 1985. (Joey McLeister / News Tribune)

Read more about the fire in this previous post. And read about the construction of the building in this previous post.

The Northwestern Bell building became home to Qwest, and now CenturyLink, as companies merged and changed names. It seems to have mostly shed its flammable ways, though if I remember correctly a power transformer exploded under the sidewalk in front of the building a few years back.

So would these two big fires place this building among Duluth’s most flammable? Perhaps it would be competing with the Kozy Bar and Apartments. Or is there another, more fire-plagued structure in town?

Share your thoughts and memories by posting a comment.