DuluthCommunityNews

By TYLER KORBY
DCN Reporter

A unique Hillside shop, packed with silk plants, baskets, gift cards, pottery and candles, has been home to many sales over the years. But Dunbar Floral and Gifts has also been home to something special that one cannot put a price on— family.

Sheri Dunbar, 50, the owner of Dunbar Floral and Gifts, opened up the small shop 15 years ago with the support of her family. Dunbar is a former graduate of the College of St. Scholastica and has been involved with floral care since she was 14 years old.

“I love flowers,� said Dunbar, a stood next to her sister-in-law cutting ribbons into unique bow-like decorations. “Nobody loves flowers more than a florist.�

Dunbar is not the only one in her family who is involved with this Hillside shop. While cutting flower stems, Dunbar touched on how her father and brother helped construct the shop years ago and how her mother also works there on a daily basis, as well as a long list of other family members.

This close family connection has given the shop a very cozy feeling, much like a friendly community in itself, which they use when welcoming every customer with care.

“We work until we get it right for them,� said Dunbar, while she wrapped a bouquet of red roses in a decorative giftwrap next to her mother, who was sweeping up stems.

Sandy Himmelspach, 48, is Dunbar’s sister-in-law and loves the shop, which she got involved in when Dunbar got her hooked roughly 10 years ago.

“It’s great to create new and unique pieces for customers,� said Himmelspach, as she sprayed on a shine to a fresh bouquet of roses. “The creativity is very fun.�

This floral shop even provides a delivery service to bring flowers and gifts all around town. However, this shop brings more than just flowers and gifts, but joy and smiles to the many in the area.

Jacqui Himmelspach, 18, is Dunbar’s niece and also enjoys the shop that she been helping out at since she was a toddler. Nowadays, even as a busy student at the College of St. Scholastica, Jacqui manages to find time to work during the week, delivering flowers and gifts to the community.

“We take the time to see what every customer wants and needs,� said Jacqui, with a smile. “The reaction of the people is great.�

Though this small Hillside floral shop sells a variety items, what the Dunbar Floral and Gift shop really offers is their family and that’s what truly matters.

“When it’s your bread and butter, you take extra care in what you do,� said Dunbar, as she laughed with Sandy and went to go work on her Christmas season gifts. “No one has your interest at your heart more than your family.�

Posted by Phoebe Yuen at 3:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By ERIC LUDY
DCN Reporter

Sunhillow Books on Fourth Street is a mess.

Plastic toys and stuffed animals are scattered about the floor. An exotic bird named Marco Polo lands at random on the shoulders of unsuspecting patrons. Socialist magazines and radical agrarian journals sit unorganized on shelves near Oprah Magazine and Vogue.

The regulars don't seem to mind, though. They come here for the conversation. And Kate Hart, the owner, is more than happy to oblige them.

"I'm like a fat spider on a web waiting for intelligent people," says Kate, "and a lot of intelligent and interesting people wander into this place."

That's why Kate bought the store seven years ago. She likes books (the store is made up of her collection of more than 5,000 of them) and being around people who share her passion.

In that respect, Kate's store has been a huge success. It's become a hangout for local writers and intellectuals, who come and go in a steady stream all day, rarely purchasing anything, but always stopping to chat before moving on.

Today, Ed Gleeson, the owner of Carmody's Irish Pub, stops by, and talks to Kate about his childhood in Ireland. Local author Char Bruns shows up for a book signing of his new novel, “Odd Fish,� and chats casually with customers about fishing on Lake Superior. Local poet Jimmy Henry walks in, parking the bicycle that brought him all the way out here from Portland, Ore., on the floor in front of Kate at the counter.

"Hey Kate, I just wrote this poem last night about moving to Minnesota. You wanna hear it?" asks Jimmy.

"Of course," says Kate.

Jimmy reads his poem, a humorous but biting account of Northern Minnesota from an outsider's perspective. He then hangs around for a while, chatting with Kate about Charles Bukowski, Hunter Thompson, and other writers. He then walks out the door and pedals away.

With so much conversation but so few sales, Kate doesn't see a profit doing what she does. She's accumulated some debt, she says, and she's thought about some day selling the store to go teach on an Indian reservation in Arizona. That's her old profession. She used to be a high school science teacher in Vermont.

"I'm tired," says Kate, "And I can't do this forever. A lot goes into running a little store like this."

For now though, Kate says she won't be going anywhere. She has her three custodial grandchildren to look after: 5-year-old Joseph, 3-year-old Sean, and 15-month-old Arriana. They can often be found wandering the store, amusing themselves with toys, stuffed animals, and whatever else they can find.

"They're a handful," says Kate, "but they've grown on me."

Posted by Phoebe Yuen at 3:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By CLAIRE CHOCK
DCN Reporter

Dubhlinn's Pub and Billiards on 1st Avenue and Superior Street is new to town, having opened about two years ago. Judging by the number of people that go there on any given night though, it has quickly become a hot spot to gather with friends for a brew. I’ve gone there about seven times since last April but hadn’t gone to their Irish Music Thursdays, so I figured I’d check it out.

The Dubhlinn has a comfortable atmosphere. In the back, there are leather chairs around a grated fireplace with board games, cards and books. The wood-based furniture for the rest of the pub—bar stools and the bar table itself—and the mellow lighting adds to this atmosphere. It would be a perfect spot to go to on a rainy or snowy day to curl up and read a book.

The live Irish music goes from 7 to 9 p.m. in the Dubhlinn’s fireside room. Nearly all of the tunes played during my visit were upbeat, rollicking pieces reminiscent of the renaissance. Of course, there were drinking songs and there were also a few slower, more pensive tunes that made me imagine they were about Ireland or pining Irish lovers.

The band that played had a drummer, three fiddlers, a guitarist and a piper. They seemed very close knit, laughing and joking for a bit before they would move on to the next song. They would get into the music they played as well; the man playing a hand drum (think of a tambourine, but bigger and without the cymbals) closed his eyes as he played, and the guitarist had her head down, seemingly focused on listening to the music.

In attendance that night was Katie Maxim, wife of Dubhlinn bartender Mike Maxim. The Maxims’ Irish experience isn’t limited to the bar, however, having honeymooned in Ireland. She said she liked it, but the towns they visited were very tourist oriented.

“I didn’t feel like we were getting a feel for the Irish life, but they had good Irish music,� Katie said.

All in all, the Irish Music night was a success for me and I recommend coming down to the Dubhlinn on any night. Some other events at the Dubhlinn are Mug Mondays, where you can get domestic beer for $2 and imports for $2.50, and Shrimp Thursdays with live Irish music.

Posted by Sarah Hasselquist at 3:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By JIM SALMELA
DCN Reporter

Walking into the Union Gospel Mission, you’ll see a receptionist desk to the left with a couple offices behind it, a few chairs set up on the right and a table full of clothing for anybody to take. The limit is three items of clothing and six pairs of underwear and socks for each person.

At 11:50 a.m., inside the hall are about 15 people waiting for lunch to start. A rope blocks the entrance to the small cafeteria. There are a few people browsing through the clothes on the table, others are sitting down talking to one another, while one man is being escorted out for drunkenness.

The cafeteria is set up with 12 round tables going in a 3x4 dimension as you walk in. As you look to the right, you’ll see boxes full of books and novels, a big-screen TV tucked in the corner, and a piano used for Sunday services. To the left, is a table with bags of recently expired hamburger and hot dog buns and bread.

The meal for the day is ham and cheese hot dish with broccoli and cauliflower. The cook for the lunch, Terry Caddell, scoops the hot dish onto a tray, while another employee scoops the broccoli and cauliflower and places silverware wrapped in a napkin. They have their choice of orange juice, milk, or coffee to drink; there are donuts, sweet rolls, muffins and cookies for dessert.

“We’re not a soup kitchen, we’re a full-meal deal,� said Sharen Bergren, the office manager at the Mission. “Our meals usually consist of meat, potatoes, gravy, vegetables, fruit, and juice or milk. We pride ourselves on the fact that we serve a good, wholesome meal.�

Volunteers come from many different places, but primarily from local churches. For dinner, a group from Grace Baptist Church comes in to help . The group, which ranges from high school to middle-aged adults, comes in at 4:30 p.m. They go back and forth from the kitchen window to pick up a tray, to a table full waiting for a meal. The volunteers get to know those they serve.

“Just interacting with the people, being with them and talking with them, they’re very interesting people,� said Travis Kahlstorf, who has volunteered at the Mission through Grace Baptist Church for the past 11 years.

After dinner is served, the volunteers sweep, mop, clean off tables, and stack the chairs as they prepare to close the building for the night, ready for another day.

Posted by Carissa Mikkelsen at 3:09 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By JEREMY PIEPER
DCN Reporter

The early morning sun shone brightly down upon a small barber shop named Floyd’s Hair Choppers. A small barber pole spun cheerily outside the shop, seemingly eyeing up passers-by who could use a quick trim.

Inside the shop, Steve "Floyd" Wahl sat back in a brown chair, slowly perusing the morning newspaper. Before long, the front door swung open and in shuffled a man named Walter Rauschenfels who was wearing a hat and carrying a cane.

Wahl rose to take the man’s coat and hung it on the coat rack as they greeted one another as old friends often do. Walter took a seat in the center barber chair and soon, small pieces of hair were falling on Floyd’s shuffling feet.

Wahl’s barber shop is not a new shop to Duluth with some new twist to hair styling, but instead it has been around for quite some time. Floyd’s Hair Choppers has been in operation in for 14 years, which has allowed Floyd to make many close acquaintances in the area.

Throughout the many years that Wahl’s shop has been in business, he has attracted many customers; many of whom have been coming to Floyd ever since he opened. These people have helped create an uncommonly friendly community in this small 4th Street barber shop.

Explaining why people visit his shop and continue to come back, Wahl said that “part of it is convenience, part of it is the haircut, and some come back for me.�

“I get new people in every week,� said Wahl, “You just have to be friendly and listen.� It is through this point of view that Wahl maintains a shop that not only provides a barber, but provides a friend to whom one may tell a life story or merely make small talk.

Joel Gratiot, who has been coming to Floyd for 10 years, said that “he’s personable…a friend. We became friends by me coming here.�

Floyd’s Hair Choppers proves to be a place where one may find a man who enjoys his customers, the community he lives in, and what he does which is reflected in the work he performs and the way he treats his customers.

“I really like this community,� says Wahl, “You get a little bit of everything.�

The final piece of hair fell to the floor as Floyd grabbed a hand mirror to help show Walter his new haircut. Soon the chime of the cash register could be heard ringing through the air as Walter paid, a smile spreading across his face.

Wahl helped Walter don his hat and coat, said his goodbyes, and resumed his morning paper until the next person came in for a haircut.

Posted by Aaron Swanum at 3:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

BY GINA WILKEN
DCN Reporter

On a brisk fall day, Joanna Regnier walks into work at Heide’s Mastectomy Shop with a goal not to just sell a product, but instead to give something that no price tag can offer— hope.

Quietly tucked away off Sixth Street East, the shop is where Regnier spends her days helping women who have undergone surgery from breast cancer find some sense of normalcy.

“My job has a different kind of gratification,� she said, while passing the many displays as she walks through the entrance and toward her office in the back of the store.

She greets the three other women who work there. Together they spend time trying to help other women overcome the effects of breast cancer.

“These people are here because they want to help,� Regnier said, as she answered the phone call of a new customer.

The plush couches and satin robes are almost enough to have a person forget why they’re really there.

“It has a real personal feeling,� Regnier said, paging through the recent orders placed through their Web site.

Heide’s Mastectomy Shop has been open for the past 15 years.

“It is a place where people can understand that they are OK,� store owner Kathy Heide-Wrazidlo said, after returning from her other store in Edina.

Customer Roberta Meyers is a breast cancer survivor herself and also the seamstress for Heide’s Mastectomy Shop. “As someone who has been there I just can’t say enough about them,� Meyers said. “They really go out of their way to make you feel comfortable.�

Regnier, who is certified in fitting both prosthetics and compression garments, did not imagine herself in this field of work originally.

While putting the finishing touches on a newspaper advertisement, she explained how she received a degree in elementary education and worked in a Duluth-area school for three years.

Even though she left that career behind, she said, her new job still helps her feel like an educator.

Breast cancer is an aspect of her work life and her personal life.

As she spoke, she pointed to a photo of her mom. Regnier’s mom began as a customer at Heide’s before she worked there and often tested out much of the merchandise.

“She was able to tell the customers which products worked best for her,� Regnier said. “It was a chance for other women to hear it from someone who is in their shoes.�

Last summer, Regnier lost her mother to breast cancer.

October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. According to the American Cancer Society, it's estimated that this year alone about 178,480 women in the United States will be found to have invasive breast cancer. It is the most common cancer among women in the United States.

“We want to help women feel good about their new normal,� Regnier said. “It is just a minor bump in the road.�

Posted by Phoebe Yuen at 3:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By CASEY GODE
DCN Reporter

Jake Ernest, a 13 year old at Woodland Middle School glides up to school, but instead of going in the front door like the rest of the kids he sneaks in the side door. He quickly goes to his locker to hide his contraband before a teacher can see. Jake's not a typical rule breaker, but what he brought today could get him in a lot of trouble.

At lunch he sits with his friends. A fly on the wall would look at them and see a page from a PacSun advertisement; they’re wearing nothing but Etnies, Billabong and Element. Each of his friends has the same worry as Jake; they’re all breaking the same rule.

After lunch, he gets to class without any issues and continues with his day. In the last few minutes of class, he plans his escape. He made it all day without any problems, but now teachers will be watching.

Once he gets to his locker he gets his backpack and checks the halls. It’s clear, so he grabs what he needs and lines up with his friends.

“It’s harder for the teachers to see when we’re in a big group,� said Jake.

When he finally reaches the other side of the street, he knows he’s free. He throws down his board and throws away any worry that he’ll be caught today.

At Woodland Middle School it’s against the rules to have skateboards. There are no exceptions.
Boards cannot be on school property.

Jake's old school in Proctor let them have skateboards; they would just have to leave them at a room when they got to class. The city of Proctor also didn’t have laws stopping people from skating.
Ernest’s new concern for the day is getting home without getting in trouble by the police.

Councilman Greg Gilbert said that as of three years ago, an ordinance was passed because of concerned, elderly, community members. Their concern was that skateboarders could knock them over.

“The ordinance [regarding skateboarding] that passed a few years ago was put in place to ensure that the sidewalks downtown were safe for all,� Gilbert said.

Police Officer Brian Heaslip regards skateboarding as a problem in the downtown area. He sees that in the summer skateboarding becomes a big problem for downtown business owners.
“It’s not the experienced ones that are the problem, it’s the less experienced that we worry about hurting others,� said Heaslip.

To offset the problem he suggests adding a few quality skate parks around the city. He thinks the damage done to public places could be fixed by giving kids a place to skate without being lawbreakers.

Jake has been stopped a couple of times, but it was when he was not on his board.
“The police don’t give you a ticket unless you’re on the board,� He said. “All my friends have gotten them though.�

Those tickets have forced one of his friends to quit skateboarding and just bike.

Not Jake. Not yet.

Posted by Theodore Norgaard at 3:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

By KEVIN SKALICKY
DCN Reporter

Downtown Duluth has a barber shop that sticks out among its modern surroundings. In the window there are antique scissors, brushes, mirrors and combs on display for the pedestrians walking by. The door is frequently propped open during the day to let in the fresh air.

Those who walk through the door are immediately greeted by Dave Bastien, the man who has owned and operated the shop for 42 years. His short gray hair is complemented by his glasses that balance carefully near the tip of his nose. With a hand shake, he invites his customers to take a seat in the red leather barber’s chair.

Everything in the shop has a historic feel. Classical music plays from an old radio sitting above the mirror. The faded wallpaper is covered up in some spots by beautiful black and white photos of ships that have traveled Lake Superior. Located behind the chair is an antique cash register that is still used to deliver change to customers.

The noon customer is Ron Krause. He’s been getting his hair cut here for 25 years.

“How short are we going to go today?� Dave asks Ron as he raises the chair. Dave reaches for a chrome-colored pair of scissors and a black plastic comb. He walks slow circles around the chair examining the situation and begins adjusting the length accordingly. They chat about Ron’s upcoming hunting trip and the daily headlines.

“I’ve seen a lot of change out that window,� Dave says. Dave later refers to the increasing crime rate, the frequent police sirens and even the physical appearance of the buildings.

The conversation shifts as Dave tells Ron of a drunken college student who broke into his house three weeks ago.

“He climbed through the window above the sink, took his shoes off, wandered around the house and even went through the refrigerator,� he adds. “Elizabeth (Dave’s wife) came down stairs and told him to ‘get the hell out of here!’ Then she watched him walk down the street and start pulling on another door knob,� Dave says.

In response to many student-related problems, recent legislation in Duluth has limited the number of houses rented by unrelated people, such as college students, that can exist in a certain area. Many local people like Dave, who live in the Central Hillside, have been fighting off the excessive noise and other problems of college housing for years.

“The new laws will help, but it won’t solve everything,� Dave mentions.

“I just call the police. Calling their parents doesn’t solve anything, but frequently calling the police will,� he adds.

While it seems like everything else is constantly changing, Dave’s shop lacks new technology and probably hasn’t changed since Dave became the owner many years ago. Whether it was by accident or by intention, the past is preserved in this friendly barber shop.

Posted by Sarah Hasselquist at 3:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By ZACH GRILL
DCN Reporter

In a town like Duluth, there is no shortage of establishments that offer an environment that includes good beer, good food, local music and a friendly Minnesota attitude. What makes Sir Benedict’s Tavern http://www.sirbenedicts.com/, or Sir Ben’s to locals, special is that those qualities are offered every day and all are welcome.

On any given afternoon one can sit down and enjoy a meal while listening to an aspiring local musician play his or her heart out on stage no matter how many people in the crowd are actually paying attention to anything more than the bowl of soup in front of them.

One of those musicians is Ben Miller, a grad student at the University of Minnesota-Duluth, who plays his version of acoustic folk whenever he needs to get away from the stress of school.

“It’s a nice way for me to relieve stress and have fun doing it because I get to do something I’m passionate about and play it to a crowd, even if sometimes it’s only my girlfriend and a few others,� Miller said between sips of his beer.

Musicians aren’t the only ones who enjoy the afternoon atmosphere at Sir Ben’s. The relaxed feel of the bar and grill is also inviting to students who want to get a little reading in over a meal. UMD junior Andy Olson decided he wanted a beer with his lunch and chose Sir Ben’s instead of lunch at school.

“I can get better food down here than at the food court and if I want, I can have a beer too,� Olson said with a raise from his glass. “Plus it’s actually quieter here than it is up at UMD. I can get more done with a beer beside me than I can with a group of freshman girls.�

As Miller packed up his guitar and left the stage to scattered applause a young man in his twenties named Matt Peltier quickly approached the jukebox and started picking songs. The soothing style of Miller’s folk guitar was seamlessly replaced by the hearty rhythm of Steely Dan.

“I just got off of work a few hours ago and decided to come down for a few drinks. Nothing beats getting off early and kicking a few back,� Peltier said. “And hey, it’s five o’clock somewhere, right.�

Peltier’s jovial attitude seems to rub off on others as he is immediately joined by a co-worker in a toast to their early release from labor.

Steely Dan is replaced by the Eagles on the speakers and the bartender notices that he no longer has time for anything more than brief exchanges with his patrons before moving on to the next. The easy-going afternoon is being replaced by the bustle of late afternoon diners and early evening drinkers and still more people who are only concerned with the bowl of soup in front of them.

Posted by Anna Woodwick at 2:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By RYAN HANSON
DCN Reporter

Walking the steep trails along the banks of Chester Creek, sunlight trickles through the treetops, lighting the path. Dan Proctor navigates the trail like he’s been here before.

“I’ve been doing work here since 1985,� says Proctor, of the city owned park. “If you wait for permission, you’re never going to get it.�

His house backs up directly to Chester Creek, and a steep path winds its way from his back yard down to the creek. He’s practically the sole caretaker of the 2.5 mile trail.

While the park is technically owned by the city, Proctor says they are often slow to respond when maintenance is needed. As a result, Proctor takes matters into his own hands.

He collects scrap lumber from contractors around the city to build runoffs, so trails don’t washout. He usually has the trail fixed before the city is even alerted there is a problem. But he isn’t paid for the hours of work he puts in on the trails; it’s completely voluntary.

“It’s understood,� says Proctor, with a smile, “that Dan Proctor does the work out there [Chester Creek].�

As he passes by drainage ditches he dug earlier in the week, he stops to quickly clear them of leaves. He also greets everyone he meets on the trail with a warming “Hello!� and a smile. Everyone smiles back at the 55-year-old man with graying pigtails, carrying a bucket, shovel and pickaxe.

He speaks confidently, with conviction, and his stories tell of experience. He talks about growing up in the Twin Cities, paper routes at the age of 8, full-time jobs at 17, dating, and his love and respect of the outdoors.

“There are opportunities for doing work in any community. Rather than telling someone else to fix the problem, offer to help,� says Proctor.

Proctor has had full-time jobs in the past, but now opts for working three or four days a week at The Positively Third Street Bakery, which he’s done for the last 15 years.

“Do what you love, and the money will find you,� says Proctor, and adds with a smile, “the money hasn’t found me yet.�

He shovels mounds of dirt, moves rocks, and expertly swings a pickaxe, cutting through earth, roots, and rocks. Before long, a drainage ditch is completed. He packs up his tools.

The walk back to his house takes 15 minutes, and all the way he keeps his eyes on the trail, looking for the leaves in the drainage tubes, large rocks protruding from the ground, and possibly a new project for tomorrow.

Posted by Carissa Mikkelsen at 2:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

By JARED JACOBSON
DCN Reporter

The early afternoon sun beams down upon the heavily residential Central Hillside neighborhood. Gary Root sits on his doorstep, hunched to one side, as if waiting for someone to sit next to him.

“Name is Gerald, but people call me Gary,� he says.

Gary used to be an able-bodied, blue-collared working man whose skills took him through a plethora of different jobs, ranging from a being a farmer to logger. His travels have also taken him from his hometown of Port Wing, Wis., to Cokato, Minn.

Having suffered two strokes in two years, the 67 year old has slurred speech and a bad back, preventing him from being able to work. Because of these problems, Gary has to rely on the government to pay his bill and support him.

“I just take my bills down to the building they tell me to,� he says.

On this day, Gary’s task was a trip to the store for razor blades, which is how he spends most of his days, running small errands. As he walks around town completing his errands he watches the people he passes, completing his tasks as he goes.

By now, Gary is standing and watching the kids gleefully play down the block. His apparel calls to mind thoughts of an older time, with pants hiked up to the mid-stomach and a flannel button-up shirt.

Gary’s attitude reflects his image of a time gone by, a carefree life.

“Got heart problems, but the insurance won’t pay for it,� he says with such a nonchalance that it might be alarming if it weren’t so genuine.

So until life takes Gary somewhere new, Gary will still be his doorstep or walking through town.

Posted by Aaron Swanum at 2:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By JOEL RUNCK
DCN Reporter

On an unseasonably warm day in September, Roger Hill makes his way down the sidelines of the Grant Community Center (GCC) soccer field with a serpent in his hands and a crowd of young children following him.

Above: Rob Hill of the Grant Community Center unveils his reptile repertoire (Photo by: Joel Runck)

“A year ago she wouldn’t even come near these things,� Hill said, pointing to the small red and white corn snake in the arms of one of the children.

Occasionally during his reptile exhibit, Hill, who is a recreation coordinator at GCC, has to think fast as he stops a stray soccer ball and boots it back onto the practice field.

The Grant Community Center is busy this time of year, with school children looking for after-school activities. As Roger reaches for a tarantula spider, several children encircle him as he reveals his eight-legged possession.

As for Hill himself, the 36-year-old Grant coordinator is neither a stranger to the GCC nor the Central Hillside. Hill is also a mentor just down the street at the Grant Elementary School. He used to work part-time as a security guard, but opted to discontinue that profession so he can be where he’s at home—on the playground.

“This is the neighborhood I grew up in and I still live just four blocks from here,� said Hill glancing at the school in the distance.

When he’s not tracking down who has his reptiles, he’s playing games with the attendants and defending his "never been beaten by a child at foosball" title. In his spare time, Roger, with his 15-plus years of reptile experience, operates his own reptile show called The Snake Pit.

As for Hill’s colleagues, snakes and spiders also make up only a fraction of the center’s activities. On a different day, Dawn Daniels and Chuck Campbell are busy keeping the facility in tip-top shape as they mop floors and clean the entire building while brainstorming ideas to keep kids’ anticipation high.

“It’s always a good feeling to make that difference,� said employee Chuck Campbell taking a break from floor cleaning. “I think the big question always comes up in planning is what do you want the community to look like in 20 years. My response is I’m not really sure what I want the community looks like as long as we have good leadership.�

Sitting next to Campbell during the work break, Daniels reminisces about her experiences at the GCC growing up and understands why Hill loves the community so much. As a youngster Dawn flocked to the GCC to hone her athleticism. However, she has seen the community around her change and not always for the better.

“Now it’s violence,� Daniels said looking at Campbell. “It’s a little different; when I was a kid you never heard of a shooting.�

Regardless of age, the issue may lie in the news people want to hear about.

“The citizens do talk and they do get together to make the community a better place,� Campbell said with a smile. “And that’s one of the things that I like about working in this neighborhood.�

Posted by Anna Woodwick at 2:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By CHRIS OLWELL
DCN Reporter

It’s 11 a.m. on a Friday morning and Karen Nelson has put the "back in five minutes" sign up in the window of her business so she can trek through the rain to the store down the block. It’s one of the perks of being your own boss.

Nine months ago, Karen and her husband Patrick opened Obscuriousities Retro, which specializes in vintage anything–clothing, books, vinyl LPs—as long as it keeps the obscure in Obscurities. There’s a Rodney Dangerfield “No Respect� board game above one of the bookshelves.

She returns to the store in the living room of her home with her purchases—cream soda and some smokes. She burns a cigarette under the balcony before coming back inside. The rain will probably slow the weekend’s business, she says between drags.

But even if business isn’t exactly booming, it’s going better than they had imagined. Patrick sells things on eBay and Amazon, which brings in a little extra cash, but neither he nor Karen has had to get a side job, like both had expected.

Patrick describes the origins of the business as “an accident.� The short version of the story is that he hooked up with the wrong travel companion and found himself alone in the Alaskan Frontier.
He worked his tail off for a month or so at a fishery and came back with $10,000. A few years, investments and mortgages later he bought the house on Fourth Street and opened Obscuriousities.

In fact, they didn’t even start the business to make money really; not that they’d turn some down. They started it because if it worked out the way they hoped, they’d be doing exactly what they’re doing right now. Patrick, a night person, is sleeping, resting up to work the night shift and for a gig after that at Pizza Lucé with his band Hotel Coral Essex.

Karen doesn’t have to work in a cubical, which is something she hates. Obscuriousities is the Nelson’s alternative to corporate America.

“It just bothers me that CEOs are making millions,� she says, “while some people don’t even have health care.�

But even in the world of vintage clothes sales there can be some ugly scenes. Next weekend, for instance, Goodwill is having their yearly blowout of vintage clothing and jewelry, and Karen is getting mentally prepared.

“We’ll open the doors (this Saturday at 7 a.m.) and have a crowd of probably 200 people waiting outside,� Goodwill Manager Sherri Swenson says. "It’s huge.�

Karen says last year’s sale was like a stampede. She remembers watching helplessly as an elderly woman with a walker was shoved around like she was standing between Homer Simpson and the last donut on earth.

This year she’s bringing some family members to back her up.

She goes back inside and brings the stereo to life. Johnny Cash sings as Karen fixes her curly hair in the mirror on the counter; she quickly sets the mirror back down and mutters something about the effect the rain has on her hair. She straightens a couple shelves before returning to her seat behind the counter.

Some days, in the time she has between customers, which can be hours at a time, she does housework–dishes, laundry, that kind of thing–while listening for the doorbell, or reads. Today, she is preparing for one of the busiest times of the year in the vintage clothing business: Halloween. She’s making pumpkin shaped price tags to hang on the racks.

Two women come in and wander through the other room, across the burn marks left over on the hardwood floors from a fire. The younger of them is obviously no stranger to vintage clothing stores, is looking for “one of those ceramic butter holders with the tops.�

Karen disappears to the back of the house and returns a moment later with something that will work, something that even has mushrooms on it, and a sale price is negotiated:

How much for that?

I was gonna put like six-fifty on that.

Hmm. Alright.

On their way out, the older of the two customers, a woman about 50, perhaps the comments on how she used to have all this stuff. The younger replies that it’s too bad she doesn’t still have it because then she could give it to her.

They leave as quickly as they came in. Karen goes back to work on her pumpkins.

Posted by Theodore Norgaard at 2:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By LISA KUNKEL
DCN Reporter

Stepping into Old Town Antiques and Books on Superior Street is comforting. The people are welcoming and you easily find yourself lost in the clutter, listening to Conway Twitty, staring at a rusted old typewriter and saying to yourself … “How is that worth $85?�

From floor to ceiling, wall to wall, random antiques are stacked, scattered and hung. Endless bookshelves are lined with ancient novels and old fashioned children’s books.

Mark Kilen sits behind the counter punching today’s earnings into a standard calculator, writing the totals by hand in a notebook.

Kilen has been the owner of Old Town Antiques and Books for the past eleven years where approximately 15 dealers bring their vintage finds to sell.

“This is strictly a hobby job,� Kilen says. “My own passion is in the used book business.�

Despite a few vintage clothing and book stores, Old Town Antiques and Books is the only antique store left on this street. The others have slowly disappeared over the years, mainly due to high rent costs.

Don Bjoralt, a local dealer, managed to drop by the store today. He has been selling his used books here for the past nine years.

“I like the people aspect of it,� he says. “Getting to know people from the area and seeing what their lives are about.

Part-time employee Linda Rock sits beside him behind the register.

“It’s a trip down memory lane for some people,� she says while flipping through a magazine. With Duluth’s chilly temperatures dropping down to the low 40’s and the tourist season coming to an end, today is a quiet one for the workers.

“People come in, looking for things from their childhood,� Rock says. She and Bjoralt both recall it as a “simpler times.�

Though, there are typically no more than ten people browsing through the store, the checkout line remains slow and held up. At Old Town Antiques and Books, no one is in a hurry.

“Some people come in just to talk,� Bjoralt says. As he perks up in his chair and smiles, it’s obvious that he enjoys the occasional chit-chat with a stranger.

The couple ahead stand at the checkout counter explaining how their new cowboy boot portrait will look great in their western styled house where they raise horses.

Meanwhile, another woman has already managed to make her way to the door with a reasonably priced bow that will look great in her husband’s new collection.

Whether your treasure be a bow without an arrow, a book that you’ve been long searching for or just someone to share a conversation with, Old Town Antiques and Books may be the place to find it.

I think a lot of people hope to find a treasure,� says Bjoralt as he puts on his jacket, ready to head back out into the busy street. “Everybody likes a treasure.�

Posted by James Salmela at 2:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

By JULIA DAVIS
DCN Reporter

Two fourteen year old girls walk in and immediately start giggling when they enter The Last Place On Earth and see the selection of posters. Some depict two women making out, while others are solely devoted to marijuana and its paraphernalia. The girls point and whisper while they slowly make their way deeper into the shop.

The Last Place on Earth, located on Superior Street in the heart of the business district of Duluth, is a tobacco shop that sells novelty items. It has been around for 25 years since it opened in 1982. The shop itself is a place you would expect to create controversy. It sells such tobacco products as bongs, hookahs, rolling papers and pipes. In addition to tobacco products, there is a separate section devoted to novelty items including pornographic movies, magazines and sex toys.

“Back when we opened there were more stores like this one, but they’ve all lost business and one by one they closed,� said Jim Carlson, owner and manager of the Last Place on Earth.

The store has attracted attention for its product variety since it has opened, but the products that cause the controversy have changed.

“When it first opened nobody really cared about the pipes or bongs, but they cared about all of the adult stuff. Now everyone gets really offended by the pipes. Back around the seventies, the pipes were no big deal,� said Carlson.

The two girls are replaced by a middle-aged man with tattered clothes and an unwashed look about him. He comes in, buys a pack of cigarettes, and shuffles happily out the door.

“We have one dollar packs of cigarettes, so on the first of the month we have locals and people from the casino come in all the time to stock up on them,� said Cory Anderson, the clerk on duty.

The Last Place on Earth sells a lot of merchandise that can’t be found in bigger chain stores.

“We are able to sell things for cheaper because we sell things that the big stores like Target and Wal-Mart won’t sell,� said Carlson. “Everything we carry offends someone.�

He then tells a story about a former employee he had who was gay. At that time he carried a T-Shirt that bore a saying that was offensive to gay people. When it began to bother his employee, he wouldn’t take it down.

“The company that made that shirt is out of business so I don’t have it anymore, but if I gave in to everyone who was offended by something I wouldn’t have anything to sell,� said Carlson.

Posted by James Salmela at 2:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

By RACHEL BREWSTER
DCN Reporter

Flowers spill from a yard on Third Street, overflowing onto the dull sidewalk to bring color, life, and beauty to the world. Contrasted against brooding government buildings, the blue house snatches the eye like Candyland in a cement city.

Carol Simat stands before her home, fingering a dying sunflower—proof that fall has come.

She brushes its core and a handful of seeds break away, tumbling to the soil below.

Carol straightens, glancing up at her house.

She and her husband had not intended to own the blue beauty when they moved in 16 years ago. But, like so many other things in their life, they considered it a miracle and a blessing.

With a keen eye and green thumb, the Simats began gardening and fixing up their new home in 1991.

It was no small task.

“If you do one project at a time … you can get it done,� says Carol.

The front yard is now a plethora of bright flower pots. They line the steps and wrap around the porch.

A violent-yellow dahlia stands to the side of the porch, bursting with petals and demanding attention.

“My husband was very creative,� she says.

They worked together on their garden project.

Marriage, on the other hand, was not always so harmonious for Brian and Carol Simat.

Usually, Thanksgiving is a time for families to gather together and be grateful for each other.

But a peek inside the window of the Simat home in November of 1979 would have revealed a different scene.

After eight years together, Brian and Carol were considering divorce.

At that time, they were both immersed in their business careers. Due to their “corporate-minded� lifestyle, they had grown independent and no longer felt the need to stay together.

“Everything looked good on the outside, but on the inside it wasn’t fulfilling,� she says.

Yet Carol wasn’t completely ready to walk away. For months, she prayed for guidance.

And it then came.

In January of 1980, she had a religious, eye-opening experience that she still cherishes to this day. It filled her with hope and faith.

Surprisingly, two days after Carol’s encounter with faith, Brian felt the same thing.

They decided to devote themselves to Christ.

“It changed everything for us,� she says.

Brian and Carol renewed their wedding vows on March 6 of that year.

From then on, the Simats dedicated their time and talent to the needy.

Their home became a haven as they opened welcoming arms to the physically and mentally handicapped. Certified by social services, they provided adult foster care for three years.

As “job coaches,� they accompanied disabled people to work to help them accomplish their tasks.

“We were learning a lot about people and a lot about ourselves at the same time,� Carol says.

Even her blossoming blue house is a “prayer project.� A flag in the back yard reads: ‘Gardening Grows the Spirit.’

Carol recalls that one day a woman walked by and commented on her flowers, saying that her attitude lifts, and she’s more optimistic when she passes Carol’s yard.

“God was responsible for creating it and making it grow,� says Carol.

Across the street is the New San Marcos, a supportive housing complex for the residents of Central Hillside. Lucy Horvatich and her co-workers enjoy the view.

“It brightens up this neighborhood…You can’t help but stare at it,� says Horvatich.

Beyond the flowers, engraved into the architecture of the house, is a trail of wooden hearts.

The tips of three large, red hearts kiss at the peak of the roof, forming a triangle.

They represent God’s love and compassion for the people of the Central Hillside.

“This neighborhood was a tough neighborhood when we first moved in here,� says Carol.

There used to be constant drug trafficking, vandalism and theft. Not all the problems have stopped, but they have decreased, she says.

“God has really intervened and helped the situation here,� says Carol.

Brian and Carol used to pray for the neighborhood together.

She does it alone now.

Two years ago, Brian Simat passed away.

He had a history of chronic heart problems and was gardening in the backyard when his chest tightened.

He put his tools down and moved to sit in his favorite spot, the picnic bench.
“And he was gone,� she said.

The man she loved and cherished, the man who—to this day—she calls “my hubby,� left her for another world.

“The Lord’s given me a lot of strength and peace,� she says.

Brian and Carol were married for 35 years.

Carol Simat walks up the long blue staircase outside and pauses on the patio next to a plant. She brushes a leaf with her fingertip. It is corduroy soft. A smile fills her green eyes.

Posted by Sarah Hasselquist at 2:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

By TYLER DOMAAS
DCN Reporter

The sun begins to set on the field. Orange leaves swirl around, riding the wind to their next destination. At the playground, three girls run around giggling. A football lands in the dirt next to one of the girl’s feet. A small football player who is fully padded runs up, retrieves the ball, and runs the ten yards back to his practice.

There are two football teams that practice in this park. The field that each team practices on is roughly the size of the infield of a baseball diamond. Just a few yards off one of the fields sits a park and playground. A small hill separates the practicing teams.

Carlos Gonzalez is the head coach for the Kenwood-Chester Raiders, which is comprised of seventh and eighth-graders. In the past the team played on the fields at Marshall School but that all changed five years ago.

“Five years ago Marshall moved us off of campus due to the making of a new soccer field,� Gonzalez explains as he watches the players from his team run a lap around the small field. “This field is the only one they could spare for us.�

Chad McCoy, the head coach for the fifth and sixth-grade team, watches as his team lines up, and runs another play.

“There are two teams that practice on this field. One is the A team, or the seventh and eighth-graders and the other is the B team, or the fifth and sixth-graders.� he says.

One player breaks free from the pack of players, holds the ball up, and runs it down the small field. McCoy smiles and shouts for the kids to line up again.

Unlike the A team, the B squad doesn’t keep score or keep standings in their games. They also only play six games and don’t have playoffs, unlike the A team.

McCoy walks up to one of the players, points out his position and gives him advice on what to do on the next play. He steps back, and watches as the ball is hiked. The players collide, and the play ends.

As darkness takes over, the one light above the field blinks on and off a few times, somehow signaling that the practice is over. The players trudge up to the cars of their awaiting parents, talking about the day's practice.

Posted by Aaron Swanum at 2:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By ERIC SIMON
DCN Reporter

At Grant Language and Arts Magnet Elementary School’s http://www.duluth.k12.mn.us/education/school/school.php?sectionid=124&sc_id=1193319312colorful library a volunteer training program organized by Kathey Bogen is just wrapping up. She doesn’t have the time to stay, she's a busy woman.

“I want to thank everyone for coming,� Bogen says to a dozen college students who showed up for the event. “I look forward to working with you all. Right now I have to run over to Grant Rex Center where there’s a bit of a situation.�

The situation? A pot luck being held over at Grant Community Recreation Center (GCRC) has been arranged, but the people who are setting up are having someone trouble locating the tables they need.

The GCRC is about a block away. On the walk over Bogen takes a short break about halfway to say hi to a group of kids who are gathered around a picnic table under a copse of trees.

“They used to go to school here and now they’re smoking under the tree,� says Bogen. “It’s not good, but I like to check in on them.�

Just outside the GCRC Bogen says hi to Brittany Shanoff. She works with Bogen at the Grant Community Collaborative, an umbrella organization that oversees seven groups including Grant School and the East Hillside Community Club.

Shanoff, a recent UMD graduate majored in psychology and likes working for the Collaborative.
“The pay is pretty modest,� says Shanoff. “But Kathy is the most amazing person to work for.�
Bogen doesn’t have long to talk, she’s a woman on a mission.

She quickly enters the GCRC and locates the tables needed for the pot luck.

The event is supposed to be under way but it doesn’t seem like a lot of people have shown up, Bogen decides to run back to the school and leave a note for anyone who thought the event may have been at the school. Once the note is on the door Bogen walks back to the GCRC.

During the walk back she explains a bit about the history of Grant School.

“For a long time it was scheduled to be closed,� Bogen says. “Now it’s actually slated to stay open and expand but we’ll see what happens.�

Bogen walks into the potluck where five women have sat down and started eating. This is the first meeting of the multi-cultural community Support Group. The group was Bogen’s idea but she asked Denise Lewis and Tamika Robinson to start it.

Lewis has three kids ages 16, 18 and 24.

“Kathy has been in my kid’s lives since they were in third or fourth grade,� says Lewis. “She really just a phenomenal person."

Bogen prepares herself a small paper plate of food and takes a seat. She stays for the full two hours the meeting runs. She doesn’t say much but listens intently to everyone who speaks. At one point she even walked around the room to make sure everyone’s cup was full of lemonade.

After the meeting Bogen and Shanoff run supplies back to Grant School. After a busy day Bogen finally gets to go home. Tomorrow it’s more meetings.

Posted by Theodore Norgaard at 2:47 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By DAVID BUCKNER
DCN Reporter

Brenda Rolandson stands in her front yard and is ready to work on the house. Not in the way you might think, however. Instead of paint buckets, hedge trimmers, or shingles, Brenda is equipped with lights and inflatable goblins.

Rolandson is preparing for her favorite holiday of the year, Halloween. A blow up Frankenstein about 4' tall sways in the breeze in her front lawn. A skeleton’s bones are scattered around a carriage driven by a spooky creature. Along the deck, Rolandson places nick nacks, Jack – O – Lanterns and strings of lights.

“On some days I can spend two or three hours on it,� says Rolandson. “I try to make it more of a theme. The carriage is brand new this year.�

Rolandson, who has worked at St. Luke’s Hospital for over 15 years, decorates for the holidays as a hobby. While many people decorate the outside of their houses for Christmas, Rolandson goes all out for Halloween.

“Halloween is probably my favorite,� says Rolandson. “I love the costumes and I get to meet people and the parents of the kids.�

Rolandson says she primarily decorates for the neighbors and kids. One neighbor, Shawn’s Hair Associates, brings in even more people from outside the neighborhood to enjoy Rolandson’s yard. Rolandson says that is where she gets the most compliments.

Sandy, a stylist at the salon, says the customers enjoy watching Rolandson display her decorations. “Really nice� and “It’s so cute� are the comments from the people passing by.

“That makes it all worth it right there,� says Rolandson. “They look forward to it.�

Rolandson walks around the yard and props up some of the inflatables that fell over during the night.
For Rolandson, it’s always a work in progress. When she sees a hole in the decorations, she fills it with a new item, spending roughly $200 each season to make it look different.

Over the last three years, she has accumulated more than enough decorations to turn heads on the street, especially drawing in trick-or-treaters on Halloween night.

“I probably got close to 70 kids last year,� says Rolandson.

After a few days of work and a combined 15 hours of decorating, Rolandson is finally finished, at least for this year. After sun goes down, she makes her way across the street to take in her work. In a long line of houses masked by darkness, one glows bright, ready for candy seekers on Halloween night.

Posted by Carissa Mikkelsen at 2:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By CARISSA MIKKELSEN
DCN Reporter

Being a dreary afternoon outside in Duluth, Ben Levine’s home studio is filled with color. Color stemming from tables filled with yards of multicolored fleece, art supplies, various artisan sculptures from past adventures and the artist’s own watercolor paintings adorning the walls.

Sitting at one of his three drafting tables, a sewing machine placed in front of him, his “best girl�, Lucy; a black Lhasa Apso-Poodle mix lying at his feet, is just another day passing in the artist’s studio.

Ben, a former high school art teacher of 27 years, is now devoting his artistic abilities toward the commonwealth of his community. What started five years ago as a project to make booties for Lucy, then a vest for himself and on to a few blankets, has now turned into a fall to spring venture making hats for the needy.

Today, Ben prepares to make one of hundreds of fleece hats that he will donate to local charities; including Churches United in Ministry (CHUM), the Damiano Center, and the walk-in shelter downtown.

Ben sifts through dozens of visibly worn patterns looking for just the right combination.

“I get bored easily, so I like to mix it up,� says Ben, as he fits the top of one pattern with the bottom of another.

Grabbing a section of orange-colored fleece, he begins to cut out a pattern, a pattern which is then pinned together, ready to pass through the presser foot of the Pfaff sewing machine he sits in front of.

With the hum of the sewing machine buzzing, his hands move at a rhythmic pace.

“After you do this for a while, it just becomes automatic, almost second nature,� says Ben.

Reaching for a piece of embroidery, which will encompass the nearly finished orange hat as a decorative border; Ben smiles fondly at a framed photo of him and his late wife.

“I started because of her, you know, she was a social worker,� he says. “There are just so many people who have absolutely nothing, the least I can do is to put a hat on their heads.�

Aware of the need in his community, Ben feels many are not.

“I don’t think people realize just how many poor people there are in this town,� says Ben. “I can never make enough hats; they have to place names in a hat and draw, because so many people want them.�

Giving the final look over the now completed hat, Ben places it into a large plastic bag sitting by the old wooden door, containing dozens of other finished hats.

Posted by James Salmela at 2:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By ALI DRAVES
DCN Reporter

Roger Hill handles chaos on a daily basis.

A little boy gets into an argument over an unfinished soccer game, someone tugs on his shirt as they ask him millions of obnoxious and rushed questions and the phone is ringing wildly in the background of the cluttered playroom.

It’s a pretty typical scenario at the Grant Community Center and the highlight of Hill’s day.

Growing up in the Central Hillside, he played at the center as a child.

And now, as a part-time employee and one of the leading support systems for the Grant Community Center, Hill said he is lucky to feel so appreciated.

Covered head to toe in colorful tattoos and unique ear, face and body piercings, 36-year-old Hill earns almost immediate acceptance and admiration from the children.

“There is so much diversity here already,� Hill said. “It just doesn’t matter to them.�

Recreation Specialist, Chuck Campbell, agrees.

“They are all different, yet they play together,� Campbell said. “Year after year, they keep changing and still continue to play together.�

Campbell also has dedicated most of his life to youth education. And although he plays a huge part in making the center work, he gives much of the credit to Hill.

“He took a huge cut to be here,� Campbell said. “Because of budget cuts and pay roll deficits, Hill offered to either work at the center for just the summer months for more money or year-round for less, and he chose year-round.�

And for Hill, there wasn’t any hesitation.

“I took a pay drop and less hours, but who cares,� he said. “I love my job. Who can honestly say they love their job as much as I do?�

Hill’s job, in many aspects, would be considered minimal and unsatisfying to some, especially since children require such patience and care.

Campbell said Hill is perfect for this job.

“He builds lasting relationships with these children,� Campbell said. “He knows people everywhere he goes. If you needed him to draw a family tree for a specific child, he could do it.�
Eight-year-old Kristie Larson is a perfect example.

Larson lives across the street for the center and accepts Hill just like another friend.

In fact, she said Hill is one of her favorite people at the center.

“He is always smiling,� she said. “Sometimes he yells at the boys for being rowdy, but I don’t care because they mostly usually deserve it.�

For Hill, being apart of these children’s lives trumps everything else, even the stresses, messes and confusion of the center.

“I don’t realize how much of a difference I make most days,� he said. “I’m just lucky to be a part of their stories.�

Posted by Anna Woodwick at 2:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)