Mill City 101

-- Jamie Christianson

Let’s play a round of the name game. I say, “Minneapolis.” You (presumably, people!) retort with: “busy;” “large;” “traffic;” “restaurants;” “downtown;” … The game could go on for eons, or, at least, for a few hours. But in all seriousness, we’re all quite aware of the amenities, activities and businesses equipped with Minneapolis as it governs the largest proximity of our great state. But have you ever sat and pondered how the pieces of the metropolis puzzle came together and formed a whole? I just moved to Minneapolis and as I travel the city more abundantly to grow accustomed, my fascination with it increasingly grows as do my thoughts of its origin. What better way to learn where the roots of Minneapolis derived from, than a field trip (or, in my case, a solo trip) to the Mill City Museum!

Mill City Museum, located right off of South 2nd Street in downtown Minneapolis, is relatively big and reasonably priced. Upon the attachment of my wristband, I had the freedom to explore and scope out any exhibits I desired. The museum is an interactive adventure consisting of multiple floors that contain many hands-on exhibits, and a nine story flour tower tour (I’ll embellish more on that later). I meandered down to the first floor as it is the sort of-contemporary storytelling layout of the Minneapolis beginnings. The floor boasts old machines, artifacts and props with information boxes which possess the intricate core of the Minneapolis history.

The information boxes highlight the development of Minneapolis (its early moniker went by “Mill City” or the “flour milling capital of the world”), by splitting it into four different steps—all cleverly assigned as ingredients to the “baking,” or the final product of Mill City.

The first step, “Gathering the Ingredients,” revealed how early residents (Franklin Steele was our first!) claimed the land at St. Anthony Falls (early Minneapolis turf) after the 1837 treaty was ratified. Resemblance of early Minneapolis consisted of whitewashed frame buildings and fenced yards, and settlers were drawn to St. Anthony Falls because of the milling, textiles and lumber industry.

The second step, “Mix Well, Allow City to Arise,” detailed how St. Anthony and Minneapolis merged into a solitary unit in 1872; St. Anthony lost its name and Minneapolis gained the Hennepin Ave. Bridge. The size of the city flourished as the Milwaukee Road Repot was built shortly thereafter as means of an arrival point for the newcomers. The city also acquired the first mayor, Dorilus Morrison, and sawmills and flourmills began to rise high.

The third step, “Serve Bite-Sized Portions Worldwide,” accounted how in the late 1800s, the Orpheum Theater was constructed and showed comedy acts, jugglers and acrobats. There were a sizable number of railroads, banks, museums and factory additions. The “Plan of Minneapolis” schemed the development for Metropolitan areas from the 1890s-1920s, while others planned to demolish the addition of buildings on the riverfront as they became an “eyesore.” (This, clearly, never came to be.)

Step 4, “Make Good Use of the Leftovers,” uncovered how Mill City became known as the City of Lakes, the first Minneapolis Aquatennial materialized in 1940, the flour milling era of the ‘30s was coming to a bleak halt, and the invention of a hydroelectric station supplied electricity of the city (what came to be a little company you’re all familiar with: Xcel Energy). After brushing up on my history, I took a step back and visually devoured my surroundings. One exhibit contained an assortment of old flour fabric bags, including an enlightened caption regarding how the packing of flour in barrels was too much a burden for millers and therefore, large hand-sewn bags took over.

Two giant machines were placed side-by-side (respectably, a dust collector and a middling purifier) which also held captions of their functionalities. A baking lab and water lab were nearby, allowing visitors to explore the forces of waterpower. Old newspaper clippings, letters and notifications of meetings for flour and cereal mill workers were strewn about the main floor… quotes of former millers and early Minneapolis settlers were festooned on the backs of archaic kitchen chairs surrounding an archaic kitchen table with plastic meals placed in front of each chair. Historical backgrounds and exhibits could be found on Wheates, Bisquick, Pilbsury—all foods created by our power mills, which, at the time, were Washburn Crosby Company Mill and four other milling companies. (These mills consolidated to become General Mills in 1965.)

The rest of the museum encompassed a sumptuous café, the “courtyard ruins” which is occupied by any acts that perform at the museum, a gift shop (naturally), a 19 minute movie of the making of Minneapolis (it’s up-to-date, funny, interesting and I highly recommend it) and a flour tower tour—a tour that seats visitors inside of a massive elevator that runs nine floors high and chronicles the history of the old working mill.

Photographs adorn all levels and portray the transformation of Minneapolis as a former riverfront view to an industrial landscape including retail, restaurants and residences. If you’re itching to do something out of the ordinary, I highly suggest a trip to the mill. It’s mind-stimulating, easy on the eyes and the knowledge you obtain will not only impress your friends, but probably impress your history professors as well.

For more information, log on to the museum’s home website at http://ww.millcitymuseum.org