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.
From the archives of the Duluth News Tribune, this full-page ad from the Nov. 26, 1890 edition of the Duluth Daily Tribune (a forerunner of the DNT):
An account of the brief life of the village of New Duluth can be found in the 1921 book “Duluth and St. Louis County, Minnesota: Their Story and People,” edited by Walter Van Brunt. It contains a report from Charles Lovett, who was involved in the development of the community. New Duluth was incorporated in the fall of 1891 and was annexed into Duluth a little more than three years later, at the end of 1894.
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:
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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:
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)
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The site of the proposed paper mill in West Duluth, south of Interstate 35 and east of Central Avenue, as seen in February 1986. (Charles Curtis / News-Tribune)
This year marks the 25th anniversary of the NewPage paper mill in West Duluth, which opened its doors in 1987 as Lake Superior Paper Industries. To build the plant, a neighborhood of homes in West Duluth was cleared. Here are some views of that lost neighborhood; click on the photos for a larger view.
Another aerial view of the proposed paper mill site in West Duluth, taken in February 1986 after plans for the paper mill were announced but before construction started. (Charles Curtis / News-Tribune)
Stan and Marilyn Wabik fought eviction from their home at 32 N. 53rd Ave. W, on the site of the proposed paper mill. They’re seen here on Feb. 8, 1986. (John Rott / News-Tribune)
The paper mill site in West Duluth with some construction under way on July 22, 1986. Jeno Paulucci’s Chun King plant is visible at lower left, with Interstate 35 at lower right in this view looking south. (Charles Curtis / News-Tribune)
The paper mill site in West Duluth with some construction under way on July 22, 1986. Jeno Paulucci’s Chun King plant is visible at center left, with the Bong Bridge in the distance. (Charles Curtis / News-Tribune)
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)
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)
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)
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)
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)
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)
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)
This undated view shows the fire hall and police station on Commonwealth Avenue in the Gary-New Duluth neighborhood. Perhaps someone more knowledgeable about cars can date the photo based on the police squad parked in front:
And, when this photo was taken the building didn’t just house a fire station and police station – it had a branch of the library in the basement:
The fire hall still stands, and still serves as a fire hall. The police station portion of the building now houses the Gary-New Duluth Community Center.
This year marks the end of the line for classes at what is now Morgan Park Middle School; students from Morgan Park will attend classes at the new Lincoln Park Middle School starting in the fall.
It’s also the 30th anniversary of the closing of Morgan Park High School in that building; the high school combined with Denfeld in 1982, and the building then housed a junior high and, later, a middle school.
This week’s News Tribune Sunday Opinion section features memories of Morgan Park, and I thought it was a good time to dig up some more photos of the school from the News Tribune Attic. These photos are from the last years of Morgan Park High School; click on the photos for larger versions, and enjoy (and look for a surprise in one of these pictures)…
At a noisy pep rally on March 7, 1979, at Morgan Park High School, faculty members staged a parody of the Lake City cheerleaders and basketball team, which Morgan Park will meet in the state Class A tournament later in the week at the Met Sports Center in Bloomington. (Charles Curtis / Duluth Herald)
Morgan Park High School Principal Milan Karich asks students not to walk out of classes on March 25, 1981, to protest plans to close the school. (Karl Jaros / Duluth Herald)
Morgan Park students march down 88th Avenue West on April 1, 1981, during a protest against plans to close the senior high school. (Charles Curtis / Duluth Herald)
Morgan Park students march down 88th Avenue West on April 1, 1981, during a protest against plans to close the senior high school. (Charles Curtis / News-Tribune)
Morgan Park junior and senior high school students listen to Duluth Schools Superintendent Richard Pearson on April 13, 1981, in the school auditorium as he discusses plans to close the senior high school. (Charles Curtis / News-Tribune)
Morgan Park students watch a Dec. 3, 1981, hearing on plans to close the senior high portion of their school. (Bob King / News-Tribune)
Morgan Park High School senior Chris Black and junior Bob Delancey work on May 11, 1982, on an 8-foot-by-8-foot sports mural titled “Winners,” to be included in the school’s Festival of Arts exhibit in the school library. (Jack Rendulich / News-Tribune)
Although they may be among the last seniors to graduate from Morgan Park High School, Terri Smith (front left) and Mary Spehar (front right) appear ebullient on June 8, 1982, as they rehearse for the graduation ceremony. (Jack Rendulich / Duluth Herald)
Morgan Park seventh-grader Chris Skull leans back and puts his feet up on his teacher’s desk while talking to classmates Bill Gronseth (center) and Laura Sinclair on the last day of the school year at Morgan Park on June 10, 1982. At the time, it was unclear if high school students would be returning to the school in the fall. (Joey McLeister / News-Tribune)
Morgan Park football coach Kyle Inforzato speaks with some of his team members and backers at a potluck dinner held in the school’s cafeteria on Aug. 28, 1982. The team’s fate was up in the air at the time after the Minnesota Supreme Court overturned a lower-court ruling that had barred the school district from closing the senior high school. (Joey McLeister / News-Tribune)
The Duluth School Board voted in December 1981 to close Morgan Park Senior High School at the end of the 1981-82 school year. Eleven residents and 10 community groups challenged that decision in District Court, and in July 1982 a judge barred the school district from closing the senior high and transferring its 253 students to Denfeld.
But on Aug. 27, 1982, the Minnesota Supreme Court overturned the District Court ruling and allowed the school district to move ahead with closure plans.
Recognize anyone in these photos? Share your stories and memories by posting a comment.
Before our snow disappears in the next few days – highs may reach the 50s by next week – I thought I’d take the chance to dig through the “winter” photo files in the News Tribune Attic and post some shots from the 1980s of people having fun – or at work – in the snow. Here they are…
Judy VanDell and daughter Kristin, 4, stroll by a snowman on top of a car at the corner of 24th Avenue West and Fourth Street on Dec. 3, 1986. (Charles Curtis / News-Tribune)
First-graders at Congdon Elementary School roll a big snowball for the base of a snowman on March 10, 1986. Their teacher, Sharon Rud, said she let the kids build a snow village after their gym class was canceled that day. (Bob King / News Tribune)
Paul Guello sculpts the snowman’s face while assisted by his son Michael, 3, (far left) and neighborhood kids Christopher and Tiffany Lee, ages 6 and 3, at Superior’s Central Park on Nov. 24, 1986. (John Rott / News-Tribune)
Kids gather at Portland Square Park in Duluth on Nov. 22, 1986, to build a snow fort. They are, left to right, Katie McRae, 6; Shawn Hoffman, 10; Jeff Clasen, 6; Alex Ross, 11; and Jacob Akervik, 9. (Charles Curtis / News-Tribune)
David O’Brien, 7, son of Don and Barb O’Brien, blasts down a sledding hill near Commonwealth Avenue in Gary on Jan. 25, 1985. He was sliding with his friend Mike McDevitt, 6. (Jack Rendulich / News-Tribune)
Kids from the West Duluth and Duluth Heights soccer clubs cooperated to roll two giant snowballs to use as the bases for goalposts for the game at Irving Field in West Duluth on Nov. 16, 1985. (John Rott / News-Tribune)
Susan Gross starts a seemingly insurmountable job shoveling wet, heavy snow in front of her house on Red Wing Street in Duluth on Nov. 29, 1983. (John Rott / News-Tribune)
Scott Tousignant, 11, makes a speedy descent of snow-covered stairs leading from Second Street to First Street at Sixth Avenue East in Duluth on Nov. 26, 1983. (Joey McLeister / News-Tribune)
Mabel Smevoll, 84, sweeps a light dusting of snow from her walkway in West Duluth on Dec. 8, 1988. Smevoll said she loves to work even at her age, and said she was “making room for some more” snow. (Bob King / News-Tribune)
Harry Staaf, 85, clears his driveway along 27th Avenue West on Dec. 27, 1988. “If you’re going to live in Duluth, you gotta expect shoveling,” Staaf said. “By summer we will all forget this anyway.” (Dave Ballard / News-Tribune)
Ryan Wiisanen, 6, tosses a snowball at his aunt, Shirkey Uraniak, on Oct. 14, 1986, at Uraniak’s house in Maple. (Dave Ballard / News-Tribune)
Gary Kniep heads home from the grocery store on Nov. 20, 1988, carrying the groceries and pulling his son Garrett, 4, down St. Marie Street near the UMD campus. (Bob King / News-Tribune)
A 6-foot-tall snowman on the corner of Second Avenue West and Superior Street in downtown Duluth caught a lot of glances and the attention of Kelly Larson, 3, and her mother, Sally, as they waited for her dad, Jim, to join them for shopping on Dec. 14, 1988. The snowman’s creator was not known to nearby shop employees. (Charles Curtis / News-Tribune)
Trina, Mark and Charity Hansen of Duluth take a snowy glide down a hill near Portland Square in Duluth on Nov. 5, 1988. (Steve Stearns / News-Tribune)
Do you recognize the people in any of these photos? Are you one of the people in these photos? Share your memories by posting a comment.
I had occasion to delve into old files of advertising clip art (these files were not in the Attic… we’ll call it the News Tribune Annex). In any case, among the thousands of images were some old Duluth-specific logos, including these….
I particularly like the “Skyworld” logo, which I presume must refer to the then-new (or new-ish) skywalk system downtown. I should note that aside from the Denfeld logo, I don’t have dates for any of these.
Here’s one more logo from the files that someone left instructions to never use again… but I’m going to break the rules:
And here’s one mystery from the local clip art files…. this drawing of a man named Henry who also has an old KBJR-TV logo (TV 6) on his helmet. Is this a fictional character, or a caricature of a real person? Does anyone recognize him, and know what ad campaign he was part of? If so, post a comment….