Monthly Archives: February 2018

Marjory Stoneman Douglas



(Photo: Frank Stoneman holding his daughter Marjory at far right. The rest of the Stoneman or Trefethen families are unidentified.)

The name Marjory Stoneman Douglas is much in the news just now.  At a high school in Parkland, Florida, there was a horrific mass shooting, and that school happened to be named for her.  Most people have probably never heard of Marjory Stoneman Douglas, but she turns up on the Internet.   Marjory was an admirable writer and environmentalist. Her Wikipedia page has plenty of good information on her works.  She lived to be 108, and was a tremendously loved figure in South Florida.  Naming a school for her seems entirely appropriate.

There’s a Hennepin County angle to her.   Marjory was born in Minneapolis, MN.  And her family stories in Minneapolis are kind of interesting.

Marjory’s father was Frank Bryant Stoneman.  Frank had come to Minnesota in 1862 or 1863 as a boy.  His father Mark Stoneman was a dentist.  Mark and his wife Althea installed their family in St. Anthony on the corner of today’s University and Central avenues. He opened a practice over a drug store, and was a dentist there until he died of pneumonia in 1875.

Dr. Mark Stoneman’s children were hard-working and successful.  Oldest son Orville—Marjory’s uncle—was one of the first 13 students at the University of Minnesota.  He went on to work in real estate, even building the 3-story Stoneman Block at 609 West Lake St.  He was also a city council member for the 8th ward during the tumultuous late 1880s, a time when social liberals and social conservatives were battling over illegal saloons, police corruption, and growing the city.  The Stonemans supported temperance, were churchgoers, and seemed like upright citizens.   These positions were entirely at odd with third-term Mayor A. A. Ames, who was showing all the signs of corruption that would bring down his 4th administration.  How odd that the youngest brother, Edgar Ames Stoneman, was probably named for the Mayor’s father.

Marjory’s father Frank Stoneman helped support his mother and younger siblings by working as a pressman in a printing company.   As a young man, “President Stoneman” founded the Gopher State Amateur Press Association, and then leapt into publishing by starting The East Side Enterprise, a “neatly printed weekly” in 1875.  In 1880, Frank Stoneman was a founder of a young republicans club. He worked as an election judge several times.  He joined his father’s Masonic lodge; he attended Holy Trinity Church.  In 1887, he and Forrest Rundell founded the American Building and Loan Association with $10,000,000.  They incorporated it again in 1888 with $50,000,000 capitalization, on the same day that the Edison Power and Light Company proposed to manufacture electricity in Minneapolis.  And this was the year that Forrest Rundell married Frank’s sister Kate.

Frank was 30 when he met Florence Lillian Trefethen, who came to Minneapolis to play her violin.  She was not the vaudevillian popular rowdy sort of musician, but one who played classical music for a polite and appreciative audience.  Lillian was consistently lauded in newspaper reviews of her work.  Perhaps it was an oversight to cause the St. Paul Globe to gush that “the finest talent in the city” had played a private concert at the home of Mr. Thomas Lowry on the same evening that Lillian was preforming across town.

In 1889, Frank and Lillian married. At the time he lived in Minneapolis, and she in Taunton, MA.   Both were 31 years old.  They honeymooned at Lake Minnetonka for the summer of 1889, then went to their home called “Netley Corner” at 124 13th St. S, in Minneapolis.  Marjory Stoneman Douglas was probably born in that house, just ten months after her parents’ wedding.  But in that same busy year, both Frank and Forrest Rundell had some sketchy dealings with their American Building and Loan.  By January of 1890, the governor was looking into it.  They were exonerated a few weeks later, and “great chunks of joy were lying around loose at their office.”

The next summer the family again spent time at Lake Minnetonka. Frank founded another business, an envelope company.  Lillian settled into society, and published the day when she would be at home to receive callers (Tuesday).  Happiness did not last.  And between 1896, when his marriage crumbled and Lillian took Marjory back to Taunton, and 1898, Frank fled Minnesota for Florida.  The family had visited in 1884.  Perhaps he had acquaintances there.

In 1900, Frank was living in Orlando, and the Census claimed he was working as a lawyer.  He was boarding with the Greethams, and in the house was daughter Lilias Shine.  She was 33, ten years younger than Frank.  Lilias’ father was Captain Thomas J. Shine of the 1st regiment of the Florida Cavalry, but he had passed away and her mother remarried.  The Shines were native Floridians.

Ten years on, Frank was in Miami, while Lilias as still at home.  Frank had switched careers again, back to his first love: the press.  He was the first editor-in-chief of the Miami Herald.  Kate and Forrest Rundell moved to Florida with Marjory’s grandmother Althea.

Lillian Trefethen’s struggles with mental illness were well-documented elsewhere.  She died in 1912.  In 1914, the week of Marjory’s 24th birthday, Frank and Lilias married.   Before long, Marjory and Frank were reunited when she moved to Miami.

Wikipedia picks up Marjory’s story from here.  But it is worth emphasizing one other small Minnesota connection.  Marjory only lived in Minnesota for her first 6 years, yet her earliest memory was listening to her father read “The Song of Hiawatha.”


Karen Cooper is a local historian with great fondness for reading old newspapers and for Hennepin History Museum.  You can read her Minnehaha Falls history articles at <>.

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Les Amis d’Escoffier Dinner at the Hotel Radisson

Hungry? This souvenir plate commemorates the 1957 menu for the annual Friends of Escoffier dinner. The banquet was one of the highlights of the Twin Cities’ gastronomic calendars, and provided an opportunity for the host hotel – in this case, the Hotel Radisson – to show off their skills to a cross-section of Minnesota tastemakers.

The local Friends of Escoffier, or Les Amis, were part of a larger movement to honor famous French chef Auguste Escoffier (1846-1935). Men, and later women, gathered to enjoy elaborate French-inspired feasts. At the 1957 dinner, a solo table was set for the deceased chef, complete with full place setting and a portrait.


August Escoffier (from The Gourmet’s Guide to London, 1914)

Serving a roomful of gastronomes was no small undertaking. Work on the menu and procuring necessary ingredients began months in advance. During the evening itself, there was a two-person team serving every six guests. This event was carefully observed and heavily publicized, and the Hotel Radisson left nothing to chance.

The Radisson’s efforts appear to have paid off. The following day, George Rice of the Minneapolis Star reviewed the dinner (under the heading “After This, the Little Woman’s Meals Will Seem Awfully Dull”). His column was full of enthusiasm about the six-hour affair, including nine courses and six wines. The night was “a gastronomic tour de force,” the “eye was delighted,” the “nostrils are charmed,” the palate was “nearly overwhelmed,” the service was “flawless,” and the kitchen staff received a standing ovation at the end of the night.

Attendees came from a range of backgrounds – union organizers, hotel managers, cooks, doctors, and, of course, journalists – and paid only $35 for the night.

“I enjoyed the challenge of putting it on, preparing the 200-pound live turtle into soup, flying in crawfish tails from Denmark, salmon from British Columbia, pate de foie gras and truffles from France, and caviar from behind the Iron Curtain. It took 1000 man hours to prepare the dinner for 127 men.”

-Chef Jorgen Viltoft, quoted in the Minneapolis Morning Tribune, January 15, 1957

According the Hotel Radisson’s own advertising column:

“The only sad note in the Escoffier banquet preparations took place last week when the large choice turtle, which had won the hearts of the Radisson staff and become a pet, had to be sacrificed for the preparation of soup of the banquet.”

“At the Radisson,” January 1957

The final annual Escoffier dinner in Minneapolis was held in 1958, although there was an attempt to revive the tradition in 1970.

This was cataloged as part of the museum’s ongoing comprehensive historic inventory project. Your financial contributions make this and our other activities possible. Click here to make a donation today to support local history preservation efforts at Hennepin History Museum. Thank you!

Nate Goldstone & and the Brookside Drug Store

Nate Goldstone’s Brookside Drug Store, located at Excelsior Boulevard and Brookside Avenue in Saint Louis Park, was a local staple for more than 40 years. Brookside Drug Store first opened in 1939; Nate Goldstone took over the store in 1946 and operated it until finally making the decision to sell in 1988.

These prescription medicine bottles were donated to the museum in 1990 by the Noble Medical Clinic. While Brookside is no longer here, we are lucky to have these bottles as part of our collection. They are a reminder of a store and a man that left their mark on our community.

In addition to the pharmaceutical services, Brookside Drug was a popular soda fountain stop; adults grabbed breakfast and lunch during the daytime, while local students stopped off for after-school sodas and snacks. With time, Brookside Drug — and its owner Nate Goldstone — became firmly established as part of life in St. Louis Park. Former Brookside Drug customers may also remember longtime employees such as Ethel Freeland and Birdie Carlson, who, like Goldstone, spent most of their careers at Brookside.

Do you remember Brookside Drug and its legendary owner? Or if you weren’t a St. Louis Park resident, did you, or do you have, your own Brookside Drug and Nate Goldstone in your neighborhood?


6001 Excelsior Boulevard, St. Louis Park Historical Society

“Pharmacist Mixes Love into Rx for Life.” Jake Tapper, Minneapolis Star, June 4, 1981.

Citizens State Bank of St. Louis Park advertisement, Minneapolis Star, May 21, 1988, p. 7