Former Glory

When I look at this grain elevator, I see the history and former glory of my neighborhood. More attractive than researching the building’s owner, its purpose, or its future, I like to imagine its back-story and former backdrop.


I see a booming milling operation in the 1930’s. I see the city of Minneapolis sprouting up; the Longfellow neighborhood growing out of the ground around the base of this grain elevator just like the wheat stalk painted on its flank. I see a place of business, proud and useful, train tracks carrying loads of wheat into its ground level then ground flour out. I see workers arriving on foot for their shifts then whistling the short walk home to cozy craftsman bungalows built from blueprints out of a Sears catalog. I see family-owned corner grocery stores at frequent intervals throughout the neighborhood, and a crop of new school buildings to serve its growing number of residents. I see holiday picnics at Minnehaha Falls with women in long skirts and men in moustaches. I see civic pride in its days of glory.

But I’m not in the 1930's, I'm standing on the frozen ground of February 2010. The wheat stalk so lovingly painted on the side of this now abandoned building has faded. Corner groceries in the Longfellow neighborhood, my new home, have closed their doors while the majority of its school buildings are being shuttered or sold. Foreclosed houses sit vacant waiting to be bought, while former industrial buildings are turned into luxury condos. I never knew this neighborhood in its heyday of housing the mill town’s workforce. I live here now.

I could let the loss of purpose and pride embodied by this abandoned, broken-windowed building sadden me, but I won’t. I don’t foresee a sad fate for my neighborhood. With the cyclical swings of demographics, we’ll need our school buildings again in time and our empty houses will eventually be bought. And over time, the fading of one industry from prominence leaves room for a new one to take its place.

When I look at the light rail trains that run at frequent intervals past this grain elevator, I see my neighborhood’s new glory.
















Kendra