Main Street - East Side

The Lesser Businesses - Part 1

I know, the sub-title is rude.  But when you’re 10 and you have the run of a hardware store, it’s hard to put any business in the same league. Sure, people need groceries and underwear and check blanks but, c'mon…

By the way …

I would be happy to accept guest posts on any of the Lowry businesses from someone with better knowledge of them.  Just send your “episode” to me at ussbb62@gmail.com and I will post it under your byline. Or use the comment form at the bottom to share your recollections or provide additions and corrections.

Main Street east side - 1957

Main Street ran from the Town Hall on the south to the Elevator on the north, although when it crossed 55, it seemed a little less "main".  The southern extremis was east/west County #11, a.k.a. Cherry St., which crossed Main between the Town Hall, McIver's & the Bank, a corner location perhaps matched by Broadway & 42nd St. South of the Town Hall, the street was called Florence Ave, which terminated at Arnold Hedlin's corn field.  

[In ‘57, we lived on Drury Ave - of "muffin man" fame. Highway 114 through town was officially Aurora Ave.  Drury, Florence & Aurora - strange name choices. Where did they come from?

The East Side

I always wondered why each and every east side business was brick while almost every building on the west side, including the hardware, was wooden. Sort of upper east side lording over the lower west side. But as with most mysteries, there is a simple explanation. The east side was completely rebuilt after the great fire of 1911 destroyed it - and prudently, in brick.

From the Duluth News-Tribune
LOWRY BUSINESS HOUSES BURN. 
Duluth News-Tribune, Tuesday, November 7, 1911

LOWRY, Minn., Nov. 6.-Four business houses and one residence were destroyed by fire late last night. The loss is estimated at about $35,000. The fire originated in the Lowry Mercantile company's store and spread to the buildings occupied by the John Hagstrom Implement company, Lowry Drug company and Smith & Celander Harness company. A residence in the rear of the drug store also was destroyed. The flames raged for several hours before they were brought under control.

From The Northwestern Druggist, December 1911:

One of the quickest business developments ever made, was done by druggist C.C. Middents, of Lowry. A fire destroyed his entire business and the next day he was selling drugs again. New fixtures and stock have been placed in his store building.

IHC Implement

Slightly later

About to be torched

Molander’s International Harvester implement dealership was a block east of Main Street on Cherry. Like numerous other Lowry businesses it had 2nd floor apartments to augment the business income. Utta lived there. I think Bud did a lot of parts and repair business with an occasional machinery sale, usually something used. 

The marquis item was the Farmall tractor.  Farm equipment in our end of Pope County was predominantly red, with a bit of orange thrown in.  Usually the shop floor was strewn with parts from a disassembled tractor or combine or whatever. I understood how all those parts got on the floor, but I was amazed, and still am, that someone could actually figure out what was wrong and put the puzzle back together - and actually have it run. I didn’t get my father’s “handy” gene.

Allis Chalmers Implement

WC

What I remember across from the bank on the southeast corner was Wencil Kalina's Allis Chalmer's dealership. Orange stuff for the WC and WD aficionados. (Warren Nelson had an auto repair shop at this location prior to that, but I'm not sure when the switch happened.) Wencil also had the blacksmith shop at one point, so my timelines may be fouled up. But to think that a town of 250 had 2 implement dealers is pretty amazing. Nowadays, it's like high schools - one per county - maybe.

Bank

Bank & Barber Shop

Lowry State Bank was on the corner of Main Street & County #11, kitty-corner from the fire hall. It was a bit cramped with 2 teller stations, a small office and the big vault in the back. LSB survived some Great Depression "bank holidays", in fact assuming the assets and debts of the Farmer's & Merchant Bank down the street when that bank went under. (Two banks in Lowry!) LSB's conservatism was a legacy of the terrible 30's. Case in point, my father’s application for a $8000 home loan in 1953 was rejected by Iver Engebretson as a bad risk. 

The end of the 50's was a traumatic time for LSB and the town, a period that included a murder - suicide and the FBI arrest of an embezzler - tales for another day. Stability returned in '59 when the Morks moved to town.

I had my very own LSB savings account complete with a little brown leather-covered passbook showing deposits and withdrawals - and the pennies of accrued interest.  The money I received for my birthday went into this account - after the Sunday School tithe of course.  I always went to Maggie McIver's teller window.  

When I was to get my new 24” Schwinn from the hardware store, my parents, to teach me the value of money, had me go to the bank by myself and withdraw the $39 from my savings account - out of the $50 or so balance - and take the hard cash over to the hardware and pay Martin. (He might have given me a break on the price.) Not sure I learned the intended lesson. Seemed like a fabulous use of the money to me. And I'm pretty sure the bank called my home to verify before they handed over that wad to a kid.

Barber Shop

To the north of the bank was Lee’s Barber shop and Lucille’s Beauty Parlor.  Although I didn’t get a haircut from Lee until later in my life, I liked going to the barber shop. There was always some interesting conversation going on and they didn’t really tone it down when a kid was present. Lots of joking in that small space. There was a big mirror on the wall, a brass spittoon next to the door for the copenhagen crowd and the single, old barber chair in the middle. 

Lee kept his whisk brush in his back pocket and when he was solidly engaged in conversation with the guy in the chair, I honed my pickpocket skills, so when he reached for the brush - nada.  Gave me and the waiting customers a few giggles and then Lee whisked me out the door. 

The beauty parlor was in the back, walled off from the barber shop proper. I peeked around the corner to Lucille’s space and there were two Twilight Zone contraptions encasing the heads of a couple women.  And, whew, what an aroma!  Better living through chemistry. If that was what it took to be beautiful, I was glad I was born male.

Hatchery

Next to the Barber Shop was Sig Rykhus' hatchery. The hatchery shipped baby “H&N Nick Chicks” all over Minnesota and the Dakotas. It was a huge operation. The hatchery took up half the block, expanding to engulf all the former business buildings between the barber and the telephone company. 

Once in a great while, I went in there with Pete to witness hatches. The chicks were cute - the poultry type, that is - but, the place stunk. Once again confirming a farming life was not for me. Too many smells.

Telephone Office

Moving north, next to the hatchery was Iver Femrite's telephone central.  In ‘57, telephone connections were made by real humans - operators. Leona & Inez split the shifts. You’d pick up the phone and hear “Number, please?”.  I was usually calling the hardware: “2, please”;  (Joe Shermak beat the hardware out for #1, maybe inherited from Jack Johnson) or home from the hardware - “74, please”; or my grandmother: “35, please”; or Marian: “22, please”.  (If you are a Lowryite, I'll bet you remember your number.) If we were calling for my dad, Leona would sometimes report, “I just saw him walk down to the restaurant, do you want me to ring there?”  The operators had a good view up and down Main Street out their window. And - this is becoming repetitious - there was an apartment in the building. Quitneys lived there.

Grocery

Next the Telephone Central, was Ray Vrooman’s Grocery.  Three short aisles of the basic food groups: fruit, breakfast cereal, peanut butter and jelly, a cooler on the north wall for meat, milk and dairy and a freezer for the ice cream - and candy and baseball cards on the checkout counter. One of 3 grocery stores in that little village.

Post Office

The Post Office, to the north, shared a wall with Vrooman’s and the entry ways were side-by-side. There was no door to door mail delivery in town, so mid-afternoon it was a lively place with folks converging to pick up their mail.  A chance to visit and perhaps a continued conversation over coffee at the Dahl House.  People were letter writers back then, so the contents of your mailbox actually could be interesting. My mother was constantly writing to her Iowa sisters.

I once ordered a Cleveland Indians baseball cap from an ad in the back of Sport Magazine and every day I went to the Post Office looking for that package. Took about 6 weeks, seemed like 6 years. 

I am the proud owner of the column of solid brass Lowry mailboxes pictured at right - which if you look closely includes our Box 89 with key. My father salvaged a couple from the burning pile, when they were upgrading to boxes with combination locks. I'm afraid the rest were consumed.

Beyond the post office, there was an empty lot and a gravel street heading east. This lot once held a thriving flour mill - The Lowry Roller Mills.  Lowry Leader Flour was renowned, but a flour dust explosion and fire in the late 30’s ended that. The mill was not rebuilt.

Mill ashes - 1937

To be continued ...