Odd, obscure, historic, humorous, random and/or relevant items from the archives of the Duluth News Tribune. Duluth News Tribune and Herald file photos are copyright Duluth News Tribune; direct questions to akrueger(at)duluthnews.com.
Flames erupt from the upper windows and roof of the Chinese Lantern shortly after 7 a.m. on Jan. 16, 1994 as firefighters pour water into the three-story structure from their hoses and aerial trucks. Twelve units and up to 50 firefighters were at the scene in downtown Duluth. (Dave Ballard / News-Tribune)
Today marks the 20th anniversary of the fire that destroyed the landmark Chinese Lantern restaurant in downtown Duluth. The fire on Jan. 16, 1994, burned “one of the places – like the Aerial Bridge, like Glensheen – that comes to mind when people think of Duluth,” the News Tribune reported the next day.
Here’s a brief excerpt from the fire story that appeared in the Jan. 17 DNT:
“The Chinese Lantern, a landmark supper club popular among Northland residents and visitors for 30 years, caved into a shambles of scorches timbers and ice in little more than three hours early Sunday.
Up to 50 firefighters were called out in 18-below weather at 5:45 a.m., battling a downtown Duluth fire of unknown origin that started in the kitchen and quickly burst through the rooftop in a wall of flames that threatened the lives of a dozen firefighters inside. …
Owner Wing Ying Huie opened the Chinese Lantern in 1964 at the Superior Street level of the Palladio Building, immediately behind the structure that burned. He was following a Huie family tradition of serving authentic Chinese specialties that began when his father, Joe Huie, opened a restaurant near the entrance of Canal Park in the early 1900s.”
Jan. 17, 1994: Workers remove heavy items from the wreckage of the Chinese Lantern a day after a fire destroyed the downtown Duluth restaurant. (Dave Ballard / News-Tribune)
After the fire, the building was repaired and a half-dozen bars and/or restaurants tried to make a go of it at that location: Blue Water Bar & Grill. Bella Vita Ristorante. Champps Americana. Duluth Athletic Club Bar & Grill. Score Sports Bar & Grill. R Bar. None lasted for the long haul.
In late 2011, it was announced that the Minnesota WorkForce Center, Duluth Workforce Development and partner agencies would move into the entire vacant building, ending – for now – any attempts to try yet another restaurant at that location.
Share your memories of the Chinese Lantern – or any other long-gone Duluth restaurant – by posting a comment.
Comedian Louie Anderson, in character as Duluth psychotherapist Louie Lundgren, in a CBS publicity photo for “The Louie Show” from January 1996. (Cliff Lipson / CBS / News Tribune file)
There’s been some discussion over on Perfect Duluth Day recently about “The Louie Show,” a short-lived 1996 CBS sitcom set in Duluth and starring Minnesota-raised comedian Louie Anderson.
I dove into the archives here at the News Tribune and present here what may be the most extensive collection of Louie Show-related content ever assembled online. While the show’s handful of episodes aired in early 1996, the story in Duluth started back on March 9, 1995, when word of the prospective sitcom made the front page of the News Tribune under the headline “Pilot episode of Anderson sitcom will be filmed in Duluth” (with all of these, click on the image for a larger version):
Well…. the “pilot episode filmed in Duluth” part didn’t happen. What did happen was a film crew shot scenes in Duluth for an opening to the show, on April 30-May 1, 1995. The sequence featured the News Tribune; here’s an account from the May 2, 1995, News Tribune, headlined ” ‘Louie Show’ offers momentary fame to Duluth paper boy”:
Here are the photos that ran with the story:
Jason Koskinen, Duluth News-Tribune carrier and actor in the opening scenes of an upcoming Louie Anderson sitcom, is seen in Duluth on May 1, 1995. (Kathy Strauss / News-Tribune)
Jason Koskinen, 15, of Duluth walks through his role as a paper boy for the opening scene of “The Louie Show,” on Fifth Street East in Duluth on May 1, 1995. A sophomore at Marshall School, Koskinen had done some modeling and just a bit of acting which helped him get the part. (Kathy Strauss / News-Tribune)
The articles above are images, not text, because they predate the News Tribune’s electronic archive by just a few months. I was able to find them on (and take photos of) microfilm thanks to some other clues. There may have been additional stories about “The Louie Show” in summer or fall 1995, but the next one I could find is from the Eh? column on Dec. 12, 1995:
‘Louie Show’ update
There’s still no word on when a based-in-Duluth sitcom starring comedian Louie Anderson will hit the airwaves, but producers have asked for more local footage.
And so, a film crew from Duluth’s Parthe Film & Video Production will brave the winter winds today to shoot more scenes in and around Duluth that will be folded into “The Louie Show.”
Filming is scheduled around the house at 1601 E. Fifth St. this afternoon. The Victorian-style duplex owned by Jane Koskinen was chosen last spring as Louie’s house — at least for the purposes of the show’s opening credits.
Shukovsky/English Entertainment Co., the show’s producer, hasn’t been given an airdate for the show. CBS — the network that picked up the show as a mid-season replacement — also is keeping mum as to when the show might air.
On Jan. 11, 1996, the News Tribune reported big news – an air date for “The Louie Show”:
LOOK FOR `LOUIE’ JAN. 31
Dominic P. Papatola, News-Tribune staff writer
Duluth and “The Louie Show” will go national this month.
CBS announced Wednesday that the set-in-Duluth sitcom featuring Minnesota comedian Louie Anderson would begin airing at 7:30 Wednesday nights starting Jan. 31.
Louie climbs into the prime-time lineup over the corpse of “Bless This House,” a comedy starring Andrew (formerly “Dice”) Clay that was canceled after finishing 75th out of 92 shows in last week’s Nielsen ratings.
Six episodes of the show featuring Anderson as a Duluth psychotherapist have been filmed and will run Wednesday nights during the February rating “sweeps” period. The show will air locally on KDLH-TV Channel 3.
But it’s highly unlikely that “The Louie Show” will be picked up as a full-time series this season, said John Whitman, executive in charge of production at Shukovsky/English Entertainment Co., the show’s producers.
“If there was an instant attraction to the show in a big way, then other variables would pop into place,” Whitman said. “But the likelihood of that happening is small.”
More likely, Whitman said, is that the show’s six episodes will run this winter, then possibly be rerun at a later date. “If it gets reasonable (ratings) numbers, then it’s got a shot in the fall with a legitimate launch.”
Just how prominently Duluth is featured in the program won’t be known until “The Louie Show” actually airs.
Riki McManus, a local casting agent who’s been working with the show, reported that the set designer requested several photos of Duluth, including images of the Aerial Lift Bridge, of locals ice fishing, even of a men’s room in Duluth’s City Hall.
Here’s the next update, which ran in the Eh? column on Jan. 16, 1996:
LOUIE LOVES DULUTH
More than two weeks before the premiere of “The Louie Show,” Duluth is already in the national spotlight.
Promotional ads for the show feature Louie Anderson wearing a dusty blue sweatshirt with “DULUTH” screaming across his chest in bold, white letters.
The ads have been airing on CBS affiliates across the country, including KDLH TV-Channel 3 in Duluth, which will carry the show.
The show, which will debut Jan. 31, features Anderson, a comedian and native Minnesotan, as a psychotherapist working in Duluth.
Louie Anderson (center) as Louie Lundgren and Kate Hodge (right) as Gretchen Lafayette during filming for “The Louie Show.” (CBS publicity photo / News Tribune file)
The News Tribune got an advance screening of the pilot episode, and ran this review on Jan. 29, 1996 – two days ahead of the series premiere. The Duluth-filmed opening sequence was nowhere to be seen:
REVIEW: SHOW’S EARNEST, FOLKS LIKABLE, BUT …
`THE LOUIE SHOW’ WON’T LAST UNLESS IT’S REVAMPED
Dominic P. Papatola, News-Tribune staff writer
In his new situation comedy, “The Louie Show,” Louie Anderson stars as a hinterlands psychotherapist whose ingenuous instinct for truth-telling often gets him into trouble.
If this show is to last beyond the six episodes already commissioned by CBS, it will need — like Louie’s patients — a little self-examination and a little help.
Because this is the ’90s, Louie earns his salary working for an HMO. Because this is a TV sitcom, his friends come from a variety of eclectic and interesting professions.
His best buddy is Curt (Bryan Cranston), a gung-ho, anal-retentive but well-meaning detective on the Duluth Police Department.
Hanging around in Louie’s house or in the corner coffee shop is Jake (Paul Feig), a wise-cracking physician who works with Louie.
Into this mix breezes Gretchen (Kate Hodge), a high-octane, slightly ditzy certified massage therapist. She moved to Duluth from Los Angeles after she saw a billboard on Santa Monica Boulevard that said “Duluth: Think About It” and interpreted it as a cosmic sign.
Clearly, the aim here is to develop an ensemble-type comedy around a successful stand-up comedian — a la “Seinfeld” or “Ellen” — but things don’t immediately jell with this batch of characters.
In the early, character-establishing episodes, there are laughs, but the writing rambles and the jokes feel forced. One of Curt’s first lines, for instance, is a complaint to Louie about a loose board on his porch that could cause a twisted ankle. “Instead of chasing the criminals,” he deadpans, “I’d have to drop ‘em with my .45 . . . wouldn’t that be a shame?”
Anderson himself sometimes seems to be vamping, literally dancing around to maintain some sense of energy as the scripts drag along.
The humor is neither especially pointed nor particularly witty. Though Louie’s clearly the center of the action, his laugh-lines and those of the supporting characters seem to exist in a vacuum.
There’s little sense of how these characters will play off each other. There’s even less sense of how Anderson’s kinder, gentler, more introspective brand of humor will translate into weekly television.
With the exception of Anderson’s endearing and amiable presence and Hodge’s full-speed-ahead adrenalin shot of a character, “The Louie Show” feels cumbersome and in need of streamlining.
Local viewers might be disappointed in the relative lack of northern exposure in the show. Except for a few shots of the Missabe Building, passing references to the Vikings or the occasional joke about our Minnesota Nice attitude, there’s not much of Duluth in these early episodes.
That much-ballyhooed opening sequence featuring Duluth landmarks, for instance, has been replaced with a dizzying montage of Louie in hip-waders, a barbecue apron and an immense blue Duluth sweatshirt.
As the “outsider,” though, Gretchen speaks in the show for what is evidently Los Angeles’ perspective of life here on the tundra: The people are emotionally frostbitten and it’s hard to track down a good half-caff mocha latte with nonfat milk.
The characters in the show have a good start on their Midwestern sensibilities and they’re earnest and likable.
But earnest and likable only get you so far in Sitcomland. Good television comedy is fueled by offbeat ideas, sharp writing and bright performances.
Given a chance, “The Louie Show” might evolve in that direction. But it’s not there yet. Right now, the only thing inventive or special about the show is its Northland setting.
Here’s a clip of that dizzying montage opening sequence, posted by Paul Lundgren over at Perfect Duluth Day. It’s preceded by a clip of Anderson interacting with a patient played by Valerie Mahaffey, who won an Emmy for her work on “Northern Exposure”:
On the same day as the review, the News Tribune also ran an interview with Louie Anderson:
COMEDIAN WANTS SPOTLIGHT ON HIS HOME STATE
Dominic P. Papatola, News-Tribune staff writer
Of all the places on the planet, how would you ever get the idea to set a television show in Duluth, Minnesota?
It helps if you’re a native of the state, as is comedian Louie Anderson, who stars in “The Louie Show” premiering Wednesday night on local CBS affiliate KDLH-TV Channel 3.
Anderson grew up and cut his performing teeth as a stand-up comedian in the Twin Cities. But he’s been to Duluth several times and under a variety of circumstances.
“In about 1979, I drove my friend to Duluth to read letters to his father at his grave,” Anderson said. “I thought it was kind of an interesting city.”
That experience was the inspiration for “Dear Dad,” one of Anderson’s two autobiographical books. It also set him thinking that Duluth might make a good springboard for his entrance into situation comedy.
“I thought there was a lot of character there,” Anderson said, speaking from his car phone somewhere on the Los Angeles roadways. “And there were a lot of characters there.”
Home-state pride plays into the equation, too.
“I think people think that people in Minnesota don’t have much going; that they’re just shoveling the walk all the time,” he said.
“But in Minnesota, there’s something very much like me in the sense that, no matter how hard things seem to be, you can see it through and you might even be able to get a laugh out of it.”
In “The Louie Show,” Anderson plays a psychotherapist at a fictitious Duluth health maintenance organization. The character is close to the heart of the performer.
Anderson was a social worker in the Twin Cities before becoming a stand-up comedian. He also spent a large part of his adult life in therapy dealing with his own chronic depression.
“There was a lot of mental illness in my family, and had I not found comedy, I think I would have been dead,” he said.
That perspective, Anderson believes, gives his show more humanity than other situation comedies.
His character “is something I could have very easily have been. I think it’s believable that I’m in a position where I care about people and their problems.”
The first half-dozen episodes of “The Louie Show” have already been taped and were pretty much devoted to establishing the characters of the ensemble cast.
That didn’t leave much room in the spotlight for Duluth or the moods of Lake Superior. But that’s something Anderson plans to change if the series gets picked up for a full-scale run in the fall.
“If the show goes, we’ll come up there this summer and shoot the main titles,” Anderson said. “We wanted to do it (for the pilot episodes), but the lake was frozen.”
It’s even possible that portions of a couple episodes could be shot on location in Duluth. The show’s writers are considering a story line, for example, that would feature the Duluth-Superior Dukes, the community’s minor-league baseball team.
Another idea for a show has Louie running for mayor of Duluth — and winning.
Although “The Louie Show” is coming on the air as a mid-season replacement series, Anderson is optimistic about its prospects.
“I think people have been waiting for me to do a sitcom and I think I have a lot of fans out there,” he said. “The show’s a lot better than most of the shows on TV. With the dedication and the work, it’ll be a classic TV show.”
His prediction? “The Thursday after the third week of the show, (CBS will) order more shows,” he said.
And if not? Anderson said that would be a disappointment, but he’s learned that life goes on.
“Then,” he said, “I’ll be off the air and I’ll be on to something else.”
Louie Anderson as Duluth psychotherapist Louie Lundgren in “The Louie Show,” a short-lived 1996 CBS sitcom. (CBS publicity photo / News Tribune file)
On the day the show premiered – Wednesday, Jan. 31, 1996 – the News Tribune ran this item seeking viewer / reader feedback:
WILL `LOUIE’ FLY? YOU CAN BE THE JUDGE
Tonight’s the night that “The Louie Show” moves from the imaginings of its creators and to a few million television sets across the country.
Louie Anderson’s career as a sitcom actor rides on tonight’s 7:30 premiere episode on KDLH-Channel 3 and the five shows that are scheduled to follow Wednesday nights on CBS.
Too, Duluth’s place in the pop culture firmament rests on how well “The Louie Show” does. Will the Northland be thought of in the fond glow that the “Mary Tyler Moore Show” brought to Minneapolis? Or will the Twin Ports become like Portland in the wake of the disastrous and little-remembered McLean Stevenson sitcom, “Hello, Larry” — merely the answer to a trivia question?
The Nielsen households and their little ratings diaries will decide, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t have a say.
Watch the show tonight. And then, from 8 to 9 p.m., call in to our special “LouieLine” and give us your review. What did you like? What did you hate? Will the show live? Or will it die?
The number is 723-xxxx. Be sure to leave us your name and your phone number in case we need to get back to you. We’ll publish some of your responses in Thursday’s News-Tribune.
Here was the response from Northland residents, as reported in the News Tribune on Feb. 1, 1996…
Jane Koskinen and her son, Jason, watch the premiere episode of “The Louie Show” Wednesday night, Jan. 31, 1996, at the Amazing Grace Bakery and Cafe. Footage of a house in Duluth owned by Koskinen was used to give the show some Duluth flavor. (Josh Meltzer / News-Tribune)
`LOUIE SHOW’ KNOCKS ‘EM OUT IN NORTHLAND
Dominic P. Papatola, News-Tribune staff writer
“The Louie Show” was a big hit Wednesday night at the Amazing Grace Bakery and Cafe, where Jason Koskinen and a group of about 25 friends watched the premiere episode of the set-in-Duluth situation comedy.
The 16-year-old Koskinen spent a day last May in front of the camera, filming what he hoped would be the show’s opening credits. Those scenes didn’t make it into Wednesday’s broadcast on CBS, but Koskinen proclaimed himself satisfied with the result nonetheless.
“It was interesting to see how they portrayed Duluth and Duluth people,” Koskinen said. “I’m hoping that they’re going to be able to get us in the next time, as well as some other Duluth stuff, instead of just showing Louie spinning around.”
If Koskinen’s enthusiasm for the show was tempered a bit by missing his national television debut, most of the rest of the Northland was wowed.
Dozens of Northlanders flooded the News-Tribune’s “LouieLine” to offer their comments. By their estimation, “The Louie Show” is a smash . . . at least in the community where it’s set.
Here’s a sample of the local reviews:
Marjorie Lake, Duluth: “Thumbs up for Louie!”
Jan Melton, Duluth: “We love `The Louie Show.’ We want to see more of Duluth in it, but definitely want to see it stay on the air.”
Pat Martin, Duluth: “ `The Louie Show’ ” had a lot of charm. Problem is that it didn’t have sex and violence so it won’t go. It did a lot to make Duluth look kind of nostalgic.”
Pauline Palmer, Superior: “Both my husband and I like the show. If we’re not home on Wednesday night, we’ll tape it. My only suggestion would be I would like to see more of the Duluth locale.”
Dave Wittke, Superior: “Louie Anderson and his show both kick.”
Mary Overlie, Duluth: “It would be nice if we could all be that happy throughout the year, but it’s not realistic. No one in Duluth is that happy right now. I’d like to see it make it, but I think he’s probably going to do his six weeks worth and then it’ll be over with.”
Peg Campbell, Pike Lake: “We’re a lot of a `bit over 60′ and we loved it. Everybody is believable except Louie’s friend who’s a doctor. We don’t have such flaky, flaky doctors here.”
Judy Helgesen, Duluth: “Louie’s very real. He could be someone who lived up here.”
Dawn Mankoski, Superior: “Louie has done it again. He’s shown us we can laugh at ourselves and we just might make it through this winter.”
Joe Howard, Duluth: “I thought the show was boring, pretty dry. He needs better writers.”
Phyllis and Art Barschdorf, Duluth: “Very gentle humor and good family viewing.”
Terie Suliin, Duluth: “The roofer with the Swedish accent was too fakey. Louie doesn’t pronounce `roof’ like he used to when he lived in Minnesota.”
Lucy Wills, Barnum: “It’s so nice to have a show without a lot of dirty talking.”
Pat Bergholm, Duluth: “I thought the characters were real, especially the female housemate and detective. I hope they won’t make fun of Duluth.”
Rick Klemond, Duluth: “I hope people on the East Coast and West Coast can understand it. Keep it on.”
R. Warren Peterson, Cloquet: “It’s got good humor and good energy. If he can keep it going, I think it’s got a chance.”
Florence Anderson, Duluth: “We loved the interesting and appealing characters, the funny story line and it was great to see Duluth in prime time.”
Nancy Johnson, Superior: “The only thing: It should have been an hour long instead of a half-hour.”
A couple weeks later, things were not looking good for “The Louie Show.” The Eh? column had this to say on Feb. 14, 1996:
LOUIE SHIP LISTING
Quick: Call a Nielsen family and tell them to tune into “The Louie Show” tonight.
In its second week on CBS, the set-in-Duluth sitcom starring Minnesota’s own Louie Anderson fell eight places in the prime-time ratings as compiled by Nielsen Media Research for Feb. 5-11.
The show finished 75th with a 7.4 rating, representing about 7.1 million households. The premiere episode posted a 8.6 rating, good enough for 67th place.
The bad news is that “The Louie Show” seemed to lose ground to ABC’s “The Drew Carey Show” and finished ahead of only four shows in CBS’ limping prime-time lineup.
The bright spot? Well, Louie still beat Montel Williams, whose hourlong drama on CBS, “Matt Waters,” finished the week tied for 84th place in the ratings.
Comedian Louie Anderson, in character as Duluth psychotherapist Louie Lundgren, in a CBS publicity photo for “The Louie Show” from January 1996. (Cliff Lipson / CBS / News Tribune file)
Two weeks later, the News Tribune’s Eh? column reported this news on Feb. 28, 1996:
LOUIE LEAPS UP
Don’t start singing the dirge for “The Louie Show” just yet.
According to the weekly prime-time ratings compiled by Nielsen Media Research for Feb. 19-25, Louie Anderson’s set-in-Duluth sitcom bounced up nine places to finish in 72nd place.
It was the second-best finish for the show in its month on the air. The premiere episode of the comedy placed 67th in the weekly ratings.
“The Louie Show” is still among CBS’ lowest-rated programs, but the sitcom finished above network-mates “Due South” and the special “Wynonna: Revelations.”
And here’s a little news that will make you either laugh or cry. Louie even did better than Dan Rather, beating out the network’s coverage of last week’s New Hampshire primaries.
The last episode of “The Louie Show” is set to air April 3. The show’s fate after that is in the hands of CBS honchos.
Then there was this longer update the next day, Feb, 29, 1996:
WHAT WILL BE THE FATE OF `THE LOUIE SHOW’ COME MAY?
SITCOM PRODUCERS STILL HOPEFUL
Dominic P. Papatola, News-Tribune staff writer
“The Louie Show” didn’t make it to the airwaves Wednesday night, but that doesn’t mean CBS has pulled the plug on the situation comedy starring Minnesota comedian Louie Anderson.
This week’s episode of the set-in-Duluth sitcom was bumped off the air so that the network could broadcast the annual Grammy Awards production. “Louie” will return next Wednesday for the fifth of its scheduled six episodes.
The show will also be preempted on March 13, meaning the last episode of the show will air on March 20.
“Louie” has never finished higher than 67th in the prime-time Nielsen ratings. Those numbers disappoint the show’s producers, but they’re not ready to give up on the show yet.
“We knew that, going into Wednesday evening, we were never going to be a breakthrough hit,” said John Whitman, executive in charge of production at Shukovsky/English Entertainment Co., the show’s producers.
Wednesday night has been a poor night for CBS this season, Whitman said, as the network struggles to recover ground lost from its disastrous last season.
Whitman also said “Louie” also suffers from a weak “lead-in,” the show that immediately precedes it in the schedule. “Dave’s World,” finished last week in the 66th slot in the Nielsen ratings. “The Louie Show” finished 72nd.
“The Louie Show” is “a show that’s worth being on the air,” Whitman said. “But it has to have substance around it to help it launch.”
Anderson’s program was roundly praised by television critics in the Twin Cities but received mediocre to negative news from other critics around the country.
A spokeswoman at CBS would say only that “it’s too soon to say” what will happen to“The Louie Show.” The networks generally announce their fall lineups in May.
Whitman, too, said it was too early to make a call on the eventual fate of “The Louie Show” — or to determine if the show’s cast or setting needed to be retooled.
The network’s decision would be based on a number of factors, including the show’s relative strength against other similar shows, the network’s need for another comedy and the crop of new shows proposed for the coming season.
“It’s up for grabs,” Whitman said. “I would not try to put a probability or even a thought” on what the network will do.
For now, he said, “we wait till May.”
Minnesota-raised comedian Louie Anderson portrays Louie Lundgren on “The Louie Show,” a 1996 CBS sitcom that was set in Duluth. (CBS publicity photo / News Tribune file)
On March 7, 1996, the Eh? column reported that “The Louie Show” ran up against tough competition in Duluth:
LOOKING FOR LOUIE?
Everything seems to be conspiring against “The Louie Show”: It’s stuck on a bad night with bad shows surrounding it. Now, the Minnesota high school hockey tournament is getting in the way.
KDLH-TV Channel 3 preempted Wednesday night’s broadcast of the set-in-Duluth sitcom in favor of the tourney. Die-hard fans of the show can catch the program at 5 p.m. today on Channel 3.
Another ratings report, from the Eh? column of March 13, 1996:
‘LOUIE’ LEAPS AGAIN (TO 67TH)
In Duluth, “The Louie Show” got bumped from its regular Wednesday night slot last week in favor of the high school hockey tournament. Other markets, however, carried the episode that made a strong showing the Nielsen ratings.
The show finished the week at number 67, its best performance since the Jan. 31 premiere episode that also ranked 67th.
And remember that the set-in-Duluth sitcom will be pre-empted again tonight. The sixth and final episode will air March 20.
And that is where the News Tribune files end on “The Louie Show.” The show was canceled after six episodes.
The show included several notable names among its cast members – Bryan Cranston, later of “Malcolm in the Middle” and “Breaking Bad”; Laura Innes, who played Dr. Kerry Weaver on “ER”; Paul Feig, who was directed episodes of “The Office” and “Arrested Development,” and who created the show “Freaks and Geeks”; and Kimmy Robertson, who played Lucy Moran on “Twin Peaks.”
Also notable – the casting of Nancy Becker-Kennedy as Louie’s assistant, Helen. According to a 2009 CBS News story, it marked the first time an actress in a wheelchair had a regular role on a sitcom.
I wish there was a full cast photo in the DNT archives – or at least one of pre-stardom Bryan Cranston – but there is not.
Louie Anderson has made several trips to the Northland to perform in the years since the sitcom was canceled.
What do you remember about “The Louie Show” and/or the local buzz surrounding it? Share your memories by posting a comment.
Every so often I take a spin through YouTube to see if any old clips from Duluth TV stations have been posted – newscasts, commercials, etc. On my latest visit, I found these three brief clips from 1991, showing the openings of the newscasts for KDLH, KBJR and WDIO:
Wish we could have a few more minutes of each of those clips… but still interesting to see.
There are a number of old Duluth TV news clips posted to YouTube, and over the years we’ve featured several in the Attic. Here are links to a few of those posts:
Bob Dylan – then Bobby Zimmerman – as a sophomore in the Hibbing High School yearbook, circa 1957. (News-Tribune file photo)
Today, May 24, 2013, is the 72nd birthday of Northland native and music icon Bob Dylan, born Robert Zimmerman in Duluth in 1941 and raised on the Iron Range, in Hibbing.
Two years ago, on the occasion of Dylan’s 70th birthday, I posted a collection of text and photos of Dylan from the News Tribune files. If you have not yet seen that – or even if you have – you can find the post here.
Duluth’s Homegrown Music Festival, which opened Sunday, celebrates its 15th anniversary this year. Here is a gallery of News Tribune photos from – or associated with – Homegrown Festivals of years past:
Galynn White of the duo Gabel and Galynn sings Thursday night at the Red Mug in Superior during the 2008 Homegrown Music Festival. (Derek Montgomery / News Tribune)
Andy Gabel of the duo Gabel and Galynn performs Thursday evening at the Red Mug in Superior during the 2008 Homegrown Music Festival. (Derek Montgomery / News Tribune)
Galynn White of the duo Gabel and Galynn plays the violin Thursday night at the Red Mug in Superior during the 2008 Homegrown Music Festival. (Derek Montgomery / News Tribune)
The Keep Aways perform at the NorShor in April 2005. The all-girl punk band will be performing at the 2005 Homegrown Music Festival. (Amanda Odeski / News Tribune)
Zach Stofer fronts the Hardcore Jollies during the semi-final round of Grandma’s Sports Garden’s “True Music Nights” competition in April 2004. The Hardcore Jollies also will play their first Homegrown Music Festival. (V. Paul Virtucio / News Tribune)
Pizza Luce is one of several stops for people attending the 2002 Homegrown Music Festival. (Renee Knoeber / News Tribune)
People groove to the music of Super D and the Double Chucks at the Norshor Theater in April 2002. The Norshor will be one of several venues for this year’s Homegrown Music Festival. (Renee Knoeber / News Tribune)
Mayfly performs during the 2001 Homegrown Music Festival at the NorShor Theatre. (V. Paul Virtucio / News Tribune)
Al Sparhawk of the Black Eyed Snakes grits out a tune as Brad Nelson drums in the background during the 2001 Homegrown Music Festival. (V. Paul Virtucio / News Tribune)
The band Both performs at the NorShor Theatre during the 2001 Homegrown Music Festival. (V. Paul Virtucio / News Tribune)
Ann Forsman belts out a tune while Jason Loop accompanies her during their band Mayfly’s performance at the 2001 Homegrown Music Festival. (V. Paul Virtucio / News Tribune)
Bryan Johnson (left) breaks into a solo on the congas during a performance by the band Crazy Betty in front of a tightly packed crowd at the Norshor Theatre on Friday night. Crazy Betty is one of 10 Duluth bands that will perform in the first Homegrown Music Festival at the NorShor in spring 1999. (Josh Meltzer / News Tribune)
Zack Cannon, whose rap name is simply “Cannon,” performs early Friday morning at Twins Bar in Duluth as part of the 2007 Homegrown Music Festival. (Derek Montgomery / News Tribune)
A sign at Twins Bar reveals the lineup for the opening night of the 2007 Homegrown Music Festival. For Thursday, the Twins Bar would host hip-hop bands from the Duluth area. (Derek Montgomery / News Tribune)
Adam Baumhardt of Smokey Bogart plays the guitar late Thursday night at Twins Bar in Duluth, MN as part of Homegrown Music Festival 2007. (Derek Montgomery / News Tribune)
Jiggity Jaze (left) and Bliss (right) perform as part of Kritical Kontact early Friday morning at Twins Bar in Duluth, MN as part of Homegrown Music Festival in 2007. (Derek Montgomery / News Tribune)
Kritical Kontact performs early Friday morning at Twins Bar in Duluth as part of the 2007 Homegrown Music Festival. (Derek Montgomery / News Tribune)
Mike Hietala of Smokey Bogart gets into the music Thursday night at Twins Bar in Duluth as part of Homegrown Music Festival 2007. (Derek Montgomery / News Tribune)
DJ Derek Delgado works on the turntable while rapper Cannon, whose real name is Zack Cannon, performs Thursday night at Twins Bar in Duluth as part of the Homegrown Music Festival in 2007. (Derek Montgomery / News Tribune)
Eeirearq’s Amy Ugstad (right) bangs away on the drums as Bret Walczynski and Jason Szumowski play at the Red Lion in Duluth on Friday night during the 2006 Homegrown Music Festival. (Justin Hayworth / News Tribune)
Dylan Kesti, drummer for Anti-Anne, attacks the cymbals during their performance at the Electric Fetus Friday night during the 2006 Homegrown Music Festival. (Justin Hayworth / News Tribune)
Low’s Mim Parker shares a quiet moment with Al Sparhawk before they take the stage at the NorShor Theatre on Thursday night as part of the 2006 Homegrown Music Festival. (Justin Hayworth / News Tribune)
Sam Rodman of Anti-Anne plays during their set at the Electric Fetus Friday night during the 2006 Homegrown Music Festival. (Justin Hayworth / News Tribune)
A large crowd turned out to watch Low perform at the NorShor Theatre’s reopening after an 8-month closure imposed by the city for fire code violations Thursday night as part of the 2006 Homegrown Music Festival. (Justin Hayworth / News Tribune)
The NorShor Theatre re-opened Thursday night, May 4, 2006, for the first time in eight months after being closed for fire code violations. The theatre played host to Low and the Homegrown Music Festival. (Justin Hayworth / News Tribune staff)
“It’s tough to celebrate someone dying, but the figurehead of terrorism is gone now,” said Adam Depre (left) of Duluth in reaction to late-night news of the killing of Osama Bin Laden. “Now it’s time to look at the underlying reason for terrorism.” He was getting his hair trimmed by stylist Diane Fernholz of Duluth after attending a 2011 Homegrown Music Festival concert at Pizza Luce late Sunday night. (Bob King / News Tribune)
Coyote band members Marc Gartman (from left), Jerree Small, and Matt Mobley perform Friday evening at Sacred Heart Music Center in Duluth as a part of the 2011 Homegrown Music Festival in Duluth. (Clint Austin / News Tribune)
Leane Marie performs Thursday evening at the Red Mug in Superior during the 2008 Homegrown Music Festival. (Derek Montgomery / News Tribune)
Mike Wilson will be playing three instruments in seven bands during the 2008 Homegrown Music Festival in Duluth. (Derek Montgomery / News Tribune)
Doug Lefebvre of Die(ode) enters a shaft of light Thursday night at Twins Bar in Duluth as part of the 2007 Homegrown Music Festival. (Derek Montgomery / News Tribune)
You may notice that the captions are pretty sparse on a few of these photos; if you can provide any names where they are missing, please post a comment.
Duluth native Lorenzo Music uses the studios at Minnesota Public Radio in downtown Duluth in April 1998 to tape commercials and other voice-over roles. “Cartoon (characters) are very hard to do remote,” he says. “Everyone has to be sitting in the same room. You really have to react to each other. That’s one thing I no longer have a shot at. But I’m willing to give it up to be here in Duluth. It’s worth it for what I have instead.” At the time, and for many years, Music preferred not to have pictures taken that showed his face. (Bob King / News-Tribune)
THE VOICE IS FAMILIAR, BUT WE CAN’T QUITE PLACE THE FACE
By Chuck Frederick, News-Tribune staff writer
In a downtown Duluth recording studio, Lorenzo Music snaps a headset over his ears, smooths out a script and leans into the microphone.
“Do you wanna know what I’m wearing,” he teases as producers and engineers in both Los Angeles and Duluth wiggle patch cords and adjust sound levels before taping a radio commercial.
A voice from California considers Music’s question. Her short, startled laugh spills out of the overhead speakers and fills the Minnesota Public Radio studio inside the Holiday Center.
“Uh, let’s see,” she says. “Hawaiian shirt?”
“Hey, this is Duluth!” Music declares, smiling broadly.
“Oh yeah,” she says. “Denim?”
Lorenzo Music has been wearing his comfortable jeans and loose-fitting denim shirts a lot lately. He has a Duluth Pack slung over one shoulder, a spectacular view of Lake Superior over the other, and in between, the contented, easygoing smile of a man at home.
One of Hollywood’s hottest sitcom writers of the 1970’s, Music left the grind of L.A. in December to visit his old hometown.
And now, like someone reluctant to trade in a favorite pair of sweatpants after a long weekend, he’s finding it hard to leave.
The man who helped create “The Mary Tyler Moore Show,” who co-created “The Bob Newhart Show” and “Rhoda,” whose voice is that of Rhoda’s never-seen-but-beloved Carlton the doorman and later of Garfield the cartoon cat, is rediscovering his roots.
He also is writing his autobiography and a slim volume of poetry and he is working as a voice actor, taping commercials and voice-overs in Duluth via digital telephone lines.
“I came back to Duluth because I wanted to remember my memoirs,” said Music, whose visit in December was a birthday gift to his wife, a chance for her to visit her mother, Margaret Johnson, in West Duluth.
“I just felt so good here,” he said. “This place is where I was formed and it’s so far removed from the stress of L.A. I felt I could come here and be here. (A friend’s) house was available on the lake. All I had to do was write and listen to the waves — and be here. I had to do it.”
Duluth roots are deep
Music came to Duluth for the first time in 1942. He was 5 years old then and had moved from Brooklyn, N.Y., with his parents, Harry and Sophie Music. A master mechanic, his father worked in the Superior shipyards during the war and played a drum in the company band that marched each time a new ship was launched.
Performing and comedy filled the Musics’ home in Central Hillside. “I was even forced to entertain as a child — or they wouldn’t feed me,” Music deadpanned, slipping into that goofy, Carlton-like, singsong voice of his. “I was a stand-up baby.”
He graduated from Central High School in 1955 and went to the University of Minnesota-Duluth to study speech and English.
But he spent more of his time playing banjo and performing comedy in the UMD cafeteria. He also performed for the Owl’s Club, the Eagle’s Club, pretty much anywhere that would have him, even the faculty wives’ tea.
He took to acting, too. During rehearsals for “Guys and Dolls” at UMD he met Myrna Johnson, the West Duluth woman who would become his wife.
Jerry and Myrna Music pose for a publicity photo in 1961, they year the former UMD students appeared at the school’s Homecoming dance in October. They later changed their names to Lorenzo and Henrietta. (News Tribune file photo)
Chases his dream
“I remember wanting to be an actor when I was 7, or maybe a comedian,” said Music, 60, a short round man with a smooth head and a quick wit. “I always knew I was a performer.”
In 1959, he chased his dream to Los Angeles and then to San Francisco. One night, he watched the yet-undiscovered Smothers Brothers perform.
“I can do that,” he thought.
The next morning he auditioned, performing the same little folk music and comedy act that had underwhelmed the Owls back in college. It went over better this time. He landed the nightclub gig.
“It was a cute act in the UMD cafeteria, but I didn’t know if I could do it in front of the Smothers Brothers and the owners of the club,” Music said. “To me, this was the big time.”
Hours before his first performance, he blacked out with fear. His bride-to-be fed him chicken soup and helped him dress. She drove him to the club and literally pushed him onstage.
He was a hit. The two were married, and not long after, she joined him on stage.
Together, though, the act didn’t gel. It was hard to tell who was funny and who was playing it straight, Music said.
The club fired the Musics. They hit the road, intent on making another run at the limelight. They played coffeehouses and nightclubs across the country. They toured with the USO, doing shows in the Far East, Europe and the Mediterranean.
By 1967, they liked their act. It was good. It was ready.
But it was too late.
The Byrds were hot and the Beatles had all that hair. Rock ‘n’ roll was in. Their folk-music-and-comedy act was out.
Myrna and Jerry Music use a Japanese tea service they brought back from their USO tour of the Far East, during a visit to Duluth in fall 1963. (News-Tribune file photo)
Lands Smothers Brothers job
The Musics wound up in Las Vegas, opening for Julie London. On the other end of the strip, the Smothers Brothers were on the verge of mega stardom. They had been signed by CBS to do a weekly series and were looking for writers. They remembered Music. He had never written professionally, but accepted the job.
“I didn’t think you needed to be professional to be a good writer,” Tommy Smothers said from his car phone in Burbank, Calif. “I flavored the writing staff with new guys. We all learned our craft as we went along.”
Music was one of 15 writers for the Smothers’ show. Others included Steve Martin and Rob Reiner. In 1969, they won an Emmy Award for Outstanding Achievement in Comedy Writing.
“(Music) was one of the fun guys,” Smothers said. “I was a big fan of his. I always loved his delivery and his act. I figured he’d be a good television writer because he was funny. He and his wife had a great act.”
Two and a half years later, Music left “The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour” to become head writer of the new “Glen Campbell Good Time Hour.” He bounced to another variety show and also started moonlighting, writing in evenings and on weekends with longtime friend David Davis. Davis had been a director of “The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis” and associate producer of the spy spoof “Get Smart.”
The moonlighting paid off. The new writing team sold scripts to “Love, American Style.”
Helps create ‘Mary’
And in 1970, when Davis was asked to produce a new show based in the Twin Cities about an independent-minded TV newswoman, he brought Music along as his writing partner. For 2 1/2 years, Music and Davis wrote or contributed to nearly every script of “The Mary Tyler Moore Show.”
“Everyone working on the show was from somewhere not Minnesota,” Music said. “I was their Minnesota expert. Things like, ‘How long does snow stay on your shoulders after you come in out of a storm.”‘
“He didn’t even have a desk at first,” Davis said of Music. “He sat in my office and I pulled out one of those boards that come out of desks for your typewriter. That was his area.”
“The Mary Tyler Moore Show” was a huge success. The network was eager to cash in. “Why don’t you guys come up with another show,” a CBS executive asked Music and Davis. “If you guys could write a new show for any actor, who would it be?”
“Bob Newhart,” they said in unison. They had written for him before, including a sketch he performed on the Smothers Brothers’ show. They knew his stammer. And they loved his dry, straight humor.
“He was easy for us to write for,” Davis said of Newhart. “I had grown up with him on the radio.”
So they started writing, back at the same secluded Santa Barbara, Calif., beach hotel where they had written their first Mary Tyler Moore episode and where they would later write the pilot for “Rhoda.”
“The Bob Newhart Show” was another hit, thanks in large part to Music and Davis, the show’s star said.
“If their concept hadn’t worked, the show wouldn’t be on the air. It wouldn’t have done so well,” Newhart said from Los Angeles. “The best tribute is it’s still on (in reruns). It’s still being watched and it’s finding a new audience.
“Being a writer myself, I always felt the most important thing in the world is the written word,” Newhart said of Music’s and Davis’s scripts. “If you don’t have the words on the page, nothing is going to work. And this show worked.”
Lorenzo (Jerry) Music, right, the Duluth Central High School graduate voted “wittiest” of the Class of 1955, returned home in June 1976 to give the commencement address for his alma mater at the Arena. He was welcomed at the Duluth airport by a delegation which included, from left, Central Principal Richard Carlson, Joanne Maddox and Mary Forseth. (News-Tribune file photo)
The show also prompted one of the 1970s more unusual and talked-about drinking games — “Hi Bob.” To play, participants took a drink each time someone on the show said Bob’s name or “Hi Bob.”
Music insists he and Davis didn’t invent the game, though they may have helped it along. They did write all those “Hi Bobs” and “Bobs.”
But for good reason, Music said. Actress Suzanne Pleshette had a habit of calling Newhart, her on-screen hubby, “honey.”
“The ‘honeys’ bothered us and we thought they’d annoy the audience,” Music said. “She put them in when we didn’t write them and they made her character sound whiny, so we started writing fewer and fewer ‘honeys’ and more and more ‘Bobs.’ “
Rhoda and Carlton
Newhart was a ratings machine, and CBS was hungry for more. The executives wanted a Mary Tyler Moore spinoff based on best friend Rhoda Morgenstern. They tapped Music and Davis to develop and produce “Rhoda,” a show that forever changed Music’s life.
It was based in New York and needed a New York feel, Music said. The characters lived in an apartment building. And down in the lobby, there was a doorman — Carlton the doorman.
In the debut episode, Carlton’s now-famous slow, somewhat-drunk-or-stoned voice stumbled from an intercom box in the apartment of Rhoda’s sister, Brenda. “There’s a woman here who says she’s your sister,” Carlton said. “She doesn’t look anything like you.”
“The lines weren’t necessarily funny,” Music said. “It was the way they were done. The guy was gooney. He was out there. I do good gooney, I guess.”
Music and Davis had tried to hire a different actor to deliver Carlton’s lines. But no one did it quite right. They either played him too big. Or too drunk.
Music delivered the lines during rehearsals. “You should have seen him,” Davis said. “He was practically falling over, he was trying to do the lines so sleepily. The first time he did it, everyone just busted out laughing.”
With auditions going poorly, it was Mary Tyler Moore who finally suggested Music stay with the part. She was a guest star on that first episode.
Music did. And got huge laughs from the live studio audience during taping.
Carlton’s appeal can be traced to the days before television, when families huddled around the radio. Imaginations painted pictures of the characters. Carlton allowed Americans to do that again.
“It was a fun thing that people tuned in for. I thought it was hilarious from the very beginning,” actress Valerie Harper, who portrayed Rhoda, said from her New York home. “Lorenzo was great. He’d do the voice live on the side with a microphone so the audience could hear. And it was always incredible. I can’t remember a line from Carlton that didn’t work. I don’t remember Lorenzo ever bombing out.”
One hot doorman
Carlton the doorman was one of Hollywood’s hottest stories that television season of 1974-75. An air of mystique surrounded him. Who was he? What did he look like? A fan club started. Several hundred fans joined.
In the final episode of the season, “Rhoda” viewers thought they’d finally get to see the mysterious character.
A knock on Rhoda’s door. It was him. Rhoda cracked open the door but didn’t unhook it. Upset with Carlton, she delivered a severe tongue-lashing. When she finished, Carlton, played by Music, stuck in his arm, extended his hand and asked, “Will there still be a tip?”
The two characters worked well together, Harper said. The contrast of the out-of-it, laid-back Carlton against the high-strung, speak-her-mind Rhoda made for many comic moments.
“It was another character to play off, another super, funny character,” Harper said. “He just had a terrific voice for Carlton. He didn’t do a trick voice. He did a character. He used his own voice and that’s what helped make it work. It was honest.”
In 1976, Music was on top of the world. He had four hit shows on his resume and two Emmys, the second for an animated CBS special he created and produced called “Carlton Your Doorman.” He returned to Duluth that summer a hero, the guest speaker at graduation for his old high school.
But just three months later, the bottom fell out. “The Lorenzo and Henrietta Music Show,” a syndicated daytime talk, comedy and musical variety show starring Music and his wife, fell flat.
It was a “suicide run,” Music said. “It was a total disaster. An absolute bomb. I was always good on my feet, but I wasn’t that good.”
The show was canceled after six weeks, its ratings abysmal.
Lorenzo and Henrietta Music in a publicity photo for their short-lived “The Lorenzo and Henrietta Music Show” in 1976. (News-Tribune file photo)
Now a top voice actor
About that time, Music’s phone rang. It was an agent who provides voice actors for radio commercials, cartoons and other voice-overs. He said he had been getting requests for the Carlton the doorman voice. Was Music interested?
Two decades later, Music is one of the top voice actors in the business. Of the thousands of actors available to do voices in the Los Angeles area, Music is one of only a few who works consistently, said casting director Carroll Day Kimble.
“He’s a love. And he’s very well respected in the business,” said Kimble, who runs Carroll Voiceover Casting Co. in Los Angeles. “He’s extremely creative behind the microphone. He can change a couple little things and really make a spot sparkle. He’s a genius in the booth.
“And in the advertising world, people love to know they just booked Carlton the doorman,” she said. “They like to say, ‘Hey, I booked Garfield the cat.”‘
After Carlton, Garfield is probably Music’s best-known voice role. In 1983, he won another Emmy Award for co-writing a Garfield TV special. And from 1988 to 1995, he provided Garfield’s voice for the Saturday morning cartoon series.
Music’s other voice characters have included a crash test dummy in those you-can-learn-a-lot-from-a-dummy public service announcements that encourage motorists to buckle up, and, more recently, a store announcer on “The Drew Carey Show.”
“I believe voice actors should be heard and not seen,” Music said. “If you don’t know what I look like, I can be the crash test dummy. I can be Garfield the cat. I can be anything. But if some kid knows what I look like, then Garfield becomes me, and I don’t want to be Garfield. Garfield should be Garfield.
“As a voice actor I can be an ugly frog or I can be a handsome prince,” Music said. “If I worked on-camera, I could only be the handsome prince. You know?”
All of which helps explain why Music doesn’t like his photograph published. And why he was reluctant to be interviewed for this story.
He craves anonymity. It’s good for his career, he said, to maintain that mystique about his identity that started with Carlton the doorman.
Music wants you to know the voice, not the face. It’s the voice, after all, that puts lunch in his box, gas in his car and his kids in college.
“All I need is a studio, and this is the studio here,” Music said between takes at Minnesota Public Radio. “We have everything we need here. And this is all I need to bring. A pencil and my reading glasses. And if I didn’t bring a pencil, it wouldn’t matter.”
He doesn’t even read the script before arriving.
The radio commercials he is taping this day are for a casino near San Diego that’s giving away a pair of Volkswagen Beetle cars. Music portrays an excited caller who asks an exterminator if they’d heard about the bug infestation.
His head bobbing, his hands waving, his eyes popping to emphasize certain words, Music performs the lines. Between takes, he sips from a glass of milk left over from lunch. After one run-through, he pauses.
“At the ‘heck no,”‘ he says into his microphone, talking to the producer in California, “I feel like I could do that line a different way. Should I just do what I feel is best?”
“Always,” says the producer.
And the next time, Music does it differently. He drops some words, adds others, changes the emphasis. He does the lines better. No question.
“This is feeling really good,” the producer says. “The character sounds fine. The acting sounds fine.”
One more time.
“Wonderful. That was awfully good,” the producer says. “I can’t imagine anything else I’d want. Except for you to come back to L.A.”
Music smiles again.
“Oh, please don’t make me come back to L.A. just yet,” he says.
And this time, there’s not even a hint of teasing in his voice.
— end —
Lorenzo Music died from cancer on Aug. 4, 2001, at age 64. He was survived by his wife and four children.
Here are a couple of YouTube clips featuring Lorenzo Music’s voice acting. The first is from the pilot episode of “Rhoda” – you can see his name in the opening credits, and then hear him as “Carlton the Doorman” at about the 1:10 mark:
And here’s a short “Garfield” clip from the 1980s:
Share your memories and stories by posting a comment.
Joyce Campbell (from left), owner of the Recycla-Bell in Duluth, stands in front of the building with regular visitors Malahn Amend, 20, Genevieve Gaboriault, 16, and Leah Smith, 17, in February 1996. (Josh Meltzer / News-Tribune)
RECYCLA-BELL PATRONS FIND FUN, RESPECT AT OLD BUILDING TURNED MUSIC VENUE WHERE DRUGS, VIOLENCE AREN’T TOLERATED
By Zita Lichtenberg, News-Tribune staff writer
Cutting lyrics and a raging electric guitar blast through giant speakers. In a room with black walls, a band is pounding out music and a group of kids are “moshing” — pushing against one another, trying to get to the center of the group.
In the other room the kids are more subdued, sitting and talking in booths that look like leftovers from a ’50s diner.
This is the Recycla-Bell in Duluth’s Endion neighborhood, and on this particular Saturday, around 200 14- to 20-year-olds have come to listen to music, talk and just hang out.
Once a Northwestern Bell telephone building at 1804 E. First St., it’s now a music venue for Northland bands and the only place in the Twin Ports these young people feel belongs to them.
A young woman in flowing clothing with glitter in her eyelashes stands next to the booths talking to Joyce Campbell, the Recycla-Bell’s owner.
She is Michelle Pesek, a 20-year-old pre-med student at the University of Wisconsin-Superior, and she is thanking Campbell for keeping the Recycla-Bell open.
“There’s a feeling of peace and camaraderie and the freedom to be ourselves here,”‘ Pesek said.
Despite minimal supervision — Joyce and her husband, Chris, are the only chaperones — the crowd at the Recycla-Bell is calm and self-controlled.
“The owners are very good-hearted and respectful, and the kids don’t feel they are being repressed,” Pesek said.
“If they are repressed, they will rage against it,” she added, “but if they are treated like thinking, respectful teen-agers, they will act like thinking, respectful teen-agers.”
Some of them have dyed their hair unnatural colors and pierced their bodies in socially incorrect places. Others look like the kid next door in flannel shirts and blue jeans.
Regardless of their fashion statements, they defy some of the negative stereotypes adults hold about today’s young people.
Recycla-Bell patrons dance to live music in the dance area in January 1996. Young people of all ages crowded the dance floor. (Josh Meltzer / News-Tribune)
Freedom through responsibility
Recycla-Bell kids cooperate with and appreciate the Recycla-Bell rules: no alcohol, no tobacco and no drugs.
“It just doesn’t fly if you break the rules,” said Joel Hardesty, 19, whose band played at the first concert at the Recycla-Bell in 1991.
There is one compelling reason: the music. It is one of the only places teens in the Twin Ports can see local bands, along with occasional groups from Canada and other parts of the United States, playing music they like — rock, alternative, punk or ska (the precursor to reggae).
The young people here know they will decide the fate of the club themselves, and nobody wants to mess things up.
As insurance, John Stone, a Recycla-Bell regular, acts as the unofficial bouncer. He has kicked out people only one or two times. Drugs, alcohol and violence are not problems, he said.
Besides making sure the moshing doesn’t get out of hand, Stone, 20, recruits bands and runs the sound system. He said it’s important that the music and the environment at the Recycla-Bell are largely controlled by people under 21.
There is no decor except for a few posters, and the music room’s black walls and empty floor provide the perfect backdrop for bands and dancers who are attempting to escape the trappings of the adult world — if only for a few hours.
Besides having the minimalist atmosphere they crave, young people say the Recycla-Bell is a place to go and feel respected and accepted.
“It’s a place where kids can be in charge while still respecting some rules,” said Joel Monsaas Kilgour, 19.
“Anyone who comes in here isn’t labeled,” said Jessie Huard, 17. “The Campbells accept any group.”
Superior High School students Adam Frink, 14 (left), and Amy Brandt, 17 talk with their friends, seated behind, at the Recycla-Bell in Duluth in February 1996. (Josh Meltzer / News-Tribune)
Owners’ attitudes key
“Young people need what we all need: love, respect, hope and to feel like we have some choices. I started with this basic premise,” Joyce Campbell said.
She and her husband bought the old Northwestern Bell Telephone building in 1991, made an apartment for themselves on the third floor, and turned it into an activist center for anti-violence and environmental causes and a music venue for young people on the weekends.
Joyce often plays the part of mother to the “Bell kids,” as she calls them. She knows many of them well, gushes with praise over their accomplishments and snaps their pictures, telling them to pick them up the next time.
The kids smile or fidget with embarrassment — many of them are not used to having an adult earnestly compliment their dyed hair and eccentric outfits.
“My opinion has always been that hair color or length and clothing styles are some of the safer choices that young people trying to figure out who they are can make … they don’t have the dangers of other choices like drugs, alcohol, sex and violence,” Campbell said.
Political activities still take place at the Recycla-Bell, but they are separate from the concerts, the Campbells said.
There are some political signs in the building promoting peace and opposing a couple of military programs, but most kids are oblivious to them and say the owners have never tried to open political conversations with them.
But Campbell does live by her principles, and tries to instill a sense of respect in the young people who go there. Besides the anti-drug, tobacco and alcohol rules, she will not tolerate ill treatment of others or discrimination.
Setting such rules and still giving kids room is a delicate balancing act. Campbell described one band she prohibited from playing because it had what she considered a sexually explicit, offensive name. But she gave in when the band changed its name, for one night, to “Appeasing Joyce.”
The kids respect her authority and her flexibility, and Campbell has had little need for discipline.
The music stops playing around 10:30 p.m. and, with few exceptions, the kids shuffle out quietly and are gone by 11 p.m. Many of them call their parents on a bright orange phone, Campbell’s private line, that sits on a piano in the main room.
Campbell has had parents call her on that same phone, asking what the Recycla-Bell was all about.
She always invites them to stop by, and many of them take her up on it.
“I’m really happy about it,” said Roxanne Stahl of Duluth, whose 14-year-old daughter frequents the Recycla-Bell.
Stahl went in to check the place out for herself and said she was glad the crowd was young, explaining that she felt uneasy when her children went to places where the patrons were older.
“If there’s a place these kids can go and hang out for a few hours, then I’m all for it.”
A surprising number of Recycla-Bell kids share Stahl’s relief that there is an “under 21″ place to hang out.
Ask around, and the majority of them will tell you they are glad there is no smoke or drunken people to deal with (and most of them say they have experienced both at parties elsewhere).
Coffeehouses and cafes, the only other places in the Twin Ports where under-age people can enjoy live music, are all filled with smoke, complain many of the kids at the Recycla-Bell.
Recycla-Bell visitors move about the large gathering room on a crowded Saturday night in January 1996. (Josh Meltzer / News-Tribune)
Community rallies to protect the ‘Bell’
The hangout almost disappeared a few years ago when the city of Duluth brought charges against the Campbells of disturbing the neighborhood and of committing zoning violations for running a commercial establishment in a residential zone.
The disturbance charge was dropped quickly as people in the neighborhood, rather than complaining, rallied to support the Campbells. The Duluth police had only a couple of complaints about loud music while Campbell was able to produce letters of support from several neighbors close to the Recycla-Bell.
Supporters wrote letters to the city and Mayor Gary Doty, and young people collected more than 1,000 names on petitions supporting the Recycla-Bell.
Campbell argued that she was running a charitable operation, which is allowed in her neighborhood. She makes no profit from concerts and spends her own money to keep the place heated.
Nearly two years and seven court appearances later, the Campbells were informed in April 1995 that the city had dropped all charges “in the interest of justice.”
City Attorney John Smedberg said one of the deciding factors was the overwhelming support of the community. He said the message he heard was that, in this day of gangs and drive-by shootings, it made no sense to close down a place where kids gather peacefully.
“Yeah, you do listen to stuff like that,” Smedberg said.
The police department has not experienced any trouble with the Recycla-Bell since the lawsuit.
“As far as I’m concerned, we feel they’re trying to do a great thing there,” said John Christensen, license officer for the Duluth Police Department. ““For a group of young people, that age group, they don’t have anyplace else to go to be together, listen to music, dance and hang out.”
Mark Kuiti, bass player for the band “Lift”, plays and sings at the Recycla-Bell in Duluth in late December 1995. (Josh Meltzer / News-Tribune)
Recycla-Bell looks for real support
With the legal difficulties past, the Recycla-Bell is back to the business of being the music scene for young people.
The Campbells are there every concert night as chaperones, counselors, supporters — whatever the “Bell kids” need.
Support from the community is great, but Joyce Campbell says she wishes some tangible support would back it up.
“We are committed to keep doing what we are doing and we are going broke,” said Campbell, whose income is from two small “Ma and Pa-type” motels she and her husband own.
“The kids, who organize and plan events, usually give us a donation from money collected at the door, but this small amount doesn’t begin to touch our expenses,” Campbell said.
She strongly encourages the bands to keep admission down to $3 per person to keep the concerts open to all income levels.
Campbell said if the Recycla-Bell were run by an organization such as a church or the city, it would not be as free and open as it is. But that lack of affiliation also means lack of regular funding.
If she had one wish for the Recycla-Bell, it would be that adults in the community who support it would get involved — stop by to help chaperone and clean up. Give a few financial donations. In the past two years she has received only around $100 in private donations.
“The typical parent says, ‘I’m really happy for what you are doing for the kids,’ ” Campbell said. “My response is usually, ‘Get involved, we could use some help.’ ”
Most have yet to accept her invitation.
— end —
Joyce Campbell sits in one of the booths at the Recycla-Bell before the visitors arive on a Saturday night in March 1996. Behind her are some of the many political messages that some of the visitors have put up on the walls. (Josh Meltzer / News-Tribune)
Here’s one more article from a couple months earlier – Jan. 6, 1996:
ANYTHING GOES IN MUSIC, DRESS AT DRUG- , ALCOHOL-FREE RECYCLA-BELL
By Zita Lichtenberg, News-Tribune staff writer
If you have nothing to prove and don’t take your fashion statement too seriously, check out the live music and atmosphere at the Recycla-Bell in Duluth.
Fluorescent dye-jobs mix easily with baseball caps and bandanas at this all-inclusive gathering place which features live bands in an environment free of tobacco, drugs and alcohol.
The rules may seem conservative, but the atmosphere and the crowd are not. The music ranges from loud rock to alternative, and the dancing ranges from too-cool-to-move to moshing and body passing.
Walk in the door and you’ll probably see a fair share of black leather and dredlocks but you also will see representatives from the sweater-and-jeans crowd and some who would be hard to put into any group.
The lack of group identity is the main pride of regulars at the Recycla-bell. They get especially annoyed if you call them “alternative.”
“Alternative is almost popular now, like preps and jocks are,” said Jessie Huard, 17, who has been coming to the Recycla-Bell for about three years. “We are very much our own selves.”
The only people who would feel out of place at Recycla-Bell, according to Malahn Ament, are those who put down a certain group or style — or those who might come in looking for drugs.
“We are not trend-setters. The only statement we try to make is that we’re not drug users,” said Ament, 19.
The Recycla-Bell building, in a quiet East End neighborhood, was owned by Northwestern Bell before Joyce and Chris Campbell bought it and transformed it into a meeting place and music venue.
Two rooms in the basement are open when bands play. One is jammed full of booths right out of a ’50s diner where people gather to talk. The other room is usually dark except for the stage lights that illuminate the bands and the giant American flag hanging over the stage. The only other noticeable decor: a few political signs promoting peace.
The bands are a mixture of local high school and college groups, and traveling bands from the Twin Cities and elsewhere.
The Recycla-bell is only open for concerts. The next is Jan. 27 and will feature several “ska” bands including Flux Capacitor and Slapstick. The music is a mixture of reggae and punk.
On Feb. 17, several alternative bands will play including Puddle Wonderful, Blind Shake, Life of Riley and Omega 2000.
Doors at Recycla-Bell, 1804 E. First St., usually open about 6:30 p.m. with music from 7 to about 10:30. Doors close at 11 p.m. Cover is usually $3 but may go up a dollar or two depending on who is playing.
— end —
Carla Garber, 15, laughs with some of her friends after returning from the dance and band area at the Recycla-Bell on a Saturday night in January 1996. (Josh Meltzer / News-Tribune)
I’ve been meaning to do an entry on the Recycla-Bell, also listed as the RecyclaBell and the Recyclabell – for some time. I was reminded by a recent Perfect Duluth Day post about a reunion concert coming up later this month.
The News Tribune does have some earlier material on the Recycla-Bell, in a folder I set aside a while back – and now can’t locate. When I do, I may post some more items.
The paper’s electronic archives don’t contain any more full articles all about the club (there’s no mention of when the Recycla-Bell closed), but they do have a number of mentions of the club in passing, noting upcoming shows. Here’s a sampling of bands and DJs who played the Recycla-Bell in the 1990s:
December 1995: Puddle Wonderful, Fromundas, Sourpuss and Omega 2000
May 1996: Flux Skapacitor
January 1997: Acidine Solution, U.S.V., the Riff Randells and the Krammies; Ferd Mert, the Rydells and Edible
February 1997: House of Large Sizes, Puddle Wonderful, Unbelievable Jolly Machine and The End; Doutang, the Swingtones and Alex Mac; O2, J. Hendrixson, MVP, Stonz’, DJ Boo and Elam
March 1997: The Dames; Area 51 (mister e and grandmaster kevin), Xaq from the Shack of Xaq, the House of Tod and Demonica Del Rio from the S & M Mausoleum; Blind Shake, Apathy, the Dames and Da Sonics
April 1997: Shapht vs. Shaft and Buggin’ Out
Spring 1997: The Sellouts
As always, share your memories by posting a comment.
Thursday, Oct. 25, 2012, marks the 10th anniversary of the plane crash near Eveleth that took the life of U.S. Sen. Paul Wellstone (D-Minn.), his wife Sheila, and six others. Read the News Tribune’s coverage of the anniversary here.
Here’s a selection of News Tribune file photos from Wellstone’s many trips to the Northland, leading up to his election to the Senate in 1990 and in the years that followed:
Democrat Paul Wellstone ratchets up his U.S. Senate campaign against incumbent Republican Rudy Boschwitz during a stop at the Duluth Labor Temple on June 9, 1989. (John Rott / News-Tribune)
Senator-elect Paul Wellstone reacts to the approval of the crowd during a standing-room-only town hall meeting at the Marshall School cafeteria in Duluth on Dec. 5, 1990. (Steve Stearns / News-Tribune)
As Sen. Paul Wellstone jokes with locals at Maggie’s, a popular restaurant in Nashwauk, on April 5, 1991, owner Margaret Breuling looks on and smiles. (Charles Curtis / News-Tribune)
Sen. Paul Wellstone greets people who gathered for the opening of his office in Virginia, Minn., on April 5, 1991. (Charles Curtis / News-Tribune)
Sen. Paul Wellstone, D-Minn., speaks at a rally at the Duluth Labor Temple on London Road on April 13, 1991. (Dave Ballard / News-Tribune)
Sen. Paul Wellstone answers questions from the audience during a meeting about health-care issues on Feb. 13, 1992, at Duluth Central High School. (Clara Wu / News-Tribune)
Sen. Paul Wellstone addresses DFL delegates from across Minnesota on June 5, 1992, the first day of the state DFL convention at the DECC, Interpreting was Kim Olson of Minneapolis. (Bob King / News-Tribune)
Marilyn Pribyl of Chaska and Terry Selle of Bloomington listen as Sen. Paul Wellstone, D-Minn., pauses to chat with them during a stop at Grandma’s Restaurant in Duluth on Jan. 15, 1994. (Steve Stearns / News-Tribune)
Sen. Paul Wellstone addresses a gathering of people in low-income situations during a news conference Nov. 21, 1995, at Emerson School in Duluth. The event was held to bring attention to the plight of low-income people in need of housing assistance. (Dave Ballard / News-Tribune)
Aimee McIntyre (left) and Sen. Paul Wellstone, D-Minn., share a laugh during a rally for Wellstone at the Federal Building in Duluth on July 1, 1996. Supporters wore shirts with red targets and the words: “Proud to be a Republican Target.” (Kathy Strauss / News-Tribune)
Sen. Paul Wellstone speaks to the crowd gathered at a rally at the DECC’s Pioneer Hall in Duluth on the morning of Oct. 23, 1996, as Vice President Al Gore applauds in the background. (Dave Ballard / News-Tribune)
U.S. Sen. Paul Wellstone answers a question from a student in the audience during the Democracy in Action forum April 9, 1999, at the College of St. Scholastica. More than 600 students from the three high schools in Duluth attended the forum, which gave them an opportunity to challenge and ask questions of elected officals. Listening to Wellstone on stage are state Sen. Sam Solon and Duluth Mayor Gary Doty. (Dave Ballard / News-Tribune)
Sen. Paul Wellstone speaks to a crowd of about 100 gathered Sunday at the entrance of ME International in Duluth on Oct. 31, 1999. Wellstone voiced his support of the United Steelworkers of America Local 1028 strike that has been in effect since August. (Renee Knoeber / News-Tribune)
Sen. Paul Wellstone visits Denfeld High School in Duluth on Nov. 16, 2000. (Rick Scibelli / News-Tribune)
Sen. Paul Wellstone meets with a full auditorium of Denfeld High School students on Nov. 16, 2000, at the school. Wellstone took questions and comments from students regarding the recent election and the issues surrounding it. (Rick Scibelli / News-Tribune)
U.S. Sen. Paul Wellstone greets members of the Duluth Denfeld singing groups Solid Gold and Steppin’ Up on Nov. 16, 2000, during a visit to the school. Wellstone engaged the students in a town hall-style meeting, discussing the previous week’s presidential election. (Rick Scibelli / News-Tribune)
Sens. Paul Wellstone and Mark Dayton talk in Superior on March 9, 2001, with employees of Partridge River Inc., the company whose Hoyt Lakes plant was destroyed by fire earlier that month. The meeting took place at Partridge River’s Superior facility. (Charles Curtis / News-Tribune)
Share your memories and stories by posting a comment.
Unused cartons of Barnum’s milk show the old Golden Guernsey labels, which were phased out in 1990, the same year production of the 4-percent variety (right) stopped. (Dave Ballard / News-Tribune)
Requiem for a heavyweight
Diet craze kills an institution built around Golden Guernsey 4% milk
By J.P. Furst, News-Tribune staff writer
This has been a lean year for “4-percent drinkers” in the Twin Ports, the hard-core consumers of a heavy, old-fashioned milk bottled in Duluth for nearly 40 years.
Barnum’s Golden Guernsey Milk – a creamy, high-fat milk produced only by Guernseys and packaged in Duluth’s West End – disappeared from local dairy cases last spring.
For longtime connoisseurs, it left an empty spot in the refrigerator and on the kitchen table.
It marked the passing of a Duluth institution, a local custom that harked back to the days when every neighborhood had its own dairy and the milkman brought glass-bottled milk to your door.
Like it said on the carton, “Guernsey cows are the only cows that give you milk like this.”
“There were a lot of true 4-percenters out there,” said Art Massie Jr., an ex-employee of the 49-year-old family business that distributes Barnum’s milk. “That milk had a real richness and ‘tastability’ to it. It was a unique product.”
In the heyday of high-fat milk, about 20 years ago, Massie said the Barnum’s line distributed about 5,000 half-gallons a week to corner groceries and the new supermarkets coming of age in Duluth.
“Those were the days when you had a grocery on every corner,” said Massie, 59. “You got to know the grocer and build a relationship, and you got to know your customers. The Barnum’s line was the only one that was in every Twin Ports store through those years.”
Art Massie Jr. is shown on Dec. 6, 1990, in front of the family business, which distributes Barnum’s milk. (Dave Ballard / News-Tribune)
“It was mainly older people who bought it, people who may have grown up on creamier milk,” said Harvey Winthrop, owner of the Ideal Market in downtown Duluth. “They were looking for a richer milk, and Golden Guernsey was the richest on the market.”
It certainly was. Pure Guernsey milk contains 4-percent milkfat or more, at least 1 percent more than Holstein milk. It has 10 percent more milk solids in it. It has the consistency of half-and-half – almost like a thin milk shake.
It tasted great.
“Fat tastes good,” said Wally Gronholm, president and general manager at Franklin Foods in Duluth, which bottled the milk for Barnum’s. “It’s a fact. Most of us who like good food like fat. That’s why we like hamburgers and fries. they’re full of fat and they taste good.”
But most Americans are trimming fat out of their diets and that’s becoming obvious in milk-drinking habits. “Skim, 1- and 2-percent milks are the ones people are buying now. The average fat content of all the milk we bottle is less than 2 percent now. That’s a big change from 10 years ago.”
The demand for Golden Guernsey milk was drying up, said Steve Massie, Art’s nephew, who now owns the family business. They were distributing only about 1,000 half-gallons a week earlier this year.
The number of Guernseys milked by Northland farmers was also dwindling, and it was getting more expensive to truck the milk to market.
“It became unprofitable after a certain point,” said Massie, 40. “But you miss having something so completely unique on the market.”
Half-gallon cartons of Barnum’s milk roll down the production line at Franklin Foods in Duluth on Dec. 6, 1990. (Dave Ballard / News-Tribune)
For some people, it was like when Fitger’s quit producing beer, or when Joe Huie’s cafe locked its doors for good. “We still get calls now and then, asking how come it’s not bottled anymore,” he said.
“They had their loyal customers, all right,” said Mark Miller, co-owner of Snow White Food Center on Wopdland Avenue. “That’s all some people would drink. They’d come in and buy the Guernsey milk religiously – until their doctors told them to drink lower-fat milk.”
The Barnum’s label itself is representative of the changes in the local milk business. It exists on paper only – or on wax cartons. The milk is actually packaged by Franklin Foods, as are Arrowhead and Kemps milk. The Massies’ company simply owns the right to the Barnum label and is a distributor.
Since dropping the Golden Guernsey line, Barnum’s milk is now similar to its competitors’ products, but people remain loyal, Steve Massie said.
“Barnum’s still exists because we have very loyal customers and we give good service,” said Massie, who remembers helping his grandfather, Art Massie Sr., package cottage cheese in his basement on St. Paul Avenue in the ’50s. “That’s been our family’s tradition since 1941. It’s the main ingredient in our success.”
Steve Massie of Massie Distributing, distributors of Barnum’s milk, loads a truck at the Franklin Foods Dairy in Duluth’s West End on Dec. 6, 1990. (Dave Ballard / News-Tribune)
The only place in the Northland where 4-percent milk is still in the stores is around Ashland, Wis., he said. “We thought about buying our Guernsey milk from a bottler over in Waukesha, Wis., but it didn’t seem feasible to bring it in here.”
There’s a certain amount of Guernsey milk in all of the milk packed at the Franklin plant in Duluth, but it’s nothing you can taste. “All milk tastes pretty much the same once you take the fat out,” said Gronholm. “A Guernsey drinker might give me an argument about that, but it’s true.”
Were the Massies “true 4-percenters”? Did they pour that heavyweight milk, as viscous as 10W-40 motor oil, on their corn flakes at home?
Steve said, “Nah. We were down to 2 percent milk at my house.”
Art, a wiry man with a long memory, chuckled. “That’s what I’m down to, too.”
Even the milkman has to go with the flow.
– end –
After typing in this archive article, I’m a little confused about the lamentations over the loss of 4-percent milk. You can still buy whole milk – is that not the same thing? Was the “Golden Guernsey” variety something unique, unlike other brands of whole milk? If you remember – and if you know any more about when the Barnum’s brand name disappeared from local shelves – please post a comment.
And while we’re at it, can you think of any other unique, Northland-favorite food products, past or present? Over at Perfect Duluth Day there have been occasional discussions about Connolly’s Tom and Jerry Batter. What other local favorites can you think of? Again, post a comment to contribute to the conversation.