Category: History

Here is a marvelous photograph of a Downtown Minneapolis street corner in 1937. Note the streetcar in the background. Does anyone know the identity of the officer?

Photograph courtesy of the Minnesota Historical Society

We have another story to share with you from the “Minneapolis Police 150th Anniversary” book published by Acclaim Press (currently out of print).

It is a story from Retired Chief Tim Dolan about the collapse of the 35-W Bridge on August 1, 2007.

In the words of Retired Chief Dolan:

“When things are quiet, officers know they are always just one call away from earning their pay and maybe a whole lot more. On those calls they’ll be running towards dangers that most people flee. August 1, 2007, was one those days. Minnesota public safety was severely tested and they excelled.

August 1st is in the middle of the ‘Dog Days’ of a Minnesota summer. This day was “sticky.” Once you began perspiring, you couldn’t get dry. At about 6:05 p.m., the Interstate 35W bridge in Minneapolis fell into the Mississippi River.

35W is a main traffic artery in the Twin City metro area of nearly four million residents. Its Mississippi bridge is the third busiest in Minnesota, and its eight lanes handled an estimated hundred forty thousand vehicles a day as drivers drove to, out of, and around downtown Minneapolis. Sergeant Ed “E.T.” Nelson, of the downtown’s 1st Precinct, heard dispatch make the first notification. He asked that the call be repeated. The dispatcher did so and noted that they have received several more calls. Soon dispatch “toned” all radio channels signaling a citywide alert. All available police, fire and emergency medical personnel services were to respond immediately.

Eventually, Minneapolis Emergency Communications issued a full callback of all personnel – one of the few in the history of the Minneapolis Police and Fire Departments. One hundred and ninety people, 110 vehicles, fell about 100 feet with the bridge into the river and onto its banks. The victims included a paving crew who were working on bridge deck repairs and a school bus with sixty-three children and nine adults who returning home from a swimming outing. The bus was balanced on a huge slab of concrete hanging over the west bank of the river. A second faster and all would have crushed by another huge collapsing panel of the bridge. A second or two slower and the bus would have fallen into the Mississippi.

Sergeant Nelson was one the very first to arrive at the scene. He found a quarter mile long scene that was only accessible by foot from either of the two riverbanks. The bridge was still out of the water in most places. Responders on the west side had to traverse an open swelling part of the river by sitting on a sit beam and inching over open water to make it to victims. They did so as the bridge was still settling. Those following found an eerie scene of gun belts lying on the ground and looped over a fallen beam.

The other side of the river was just as hazardous. The bridge fell on top of some railroad tankers designated to be carrying hazardous materials. Nearby, a U of M research facility housed a nuclear reactor. There were initial fears of possible damage due to the bridge’s ground shaking impact. Rescuers arrived from everywhere. Over fifty police agencies responded. FBI Agents directed traffic. St. Paul Police answered Minneapolis calls for service. Everyone came to help, and they were all needed. Police, Fire and EMS quickly began to triage the one hundred and ninety victims. One hundred and forty-five needed treatment. At least fifty were hospitalized in at least three different hospitals.

Five victims were found dead that first day. It was unknown how many were trapped under the bridge. Dramatic pictures of the scene show officers holding ropes to assist firefighters diving in the water with rescue gear. In a seemly short amount of time, about an hour and a half, the bridge collapse scene had changed from a rescue to a recovery. It was not known yet if the bridge fell from natural causes or a terrorist act.

From then on, the MPD organized and directed overall recovery, investigations, media, security for the collapse site and outreach to victims’ families.

On Saturday, August 4th, President George Bush arrived at the bridge site and met with Federal, State and City leaders. At the meeting, I made an official request for the United States Navy’s Sea Air and Land (SEAL) divers to attempt to recover the remain- ing victims trapped under the bridge. The effort was much too difficult and dangerous for Hennepin County divers. President Bush granted the request. After two weeks of diving amid and under concrete slabs, through twisted metal, and in gasoline and oil filled water the SEALS recovered the remaining eight missing victims. They had to use air hoses to maneuver in the wreckage. Visibility was inches. They reported it as being the most difficult diving tasks in their history.

During the weeks that the SEAL divers needed to recover the victims, the Minneapolis Police Chaplain Corps, lead by Chaplain Jeff Stewart, hosted a “Family Center” at a nearby Holiday Inn. Assisted by the Red Cross and members of the Minneapolis Health Department the chaplains did the difficult job of consoling and updating family members of the recovery efforts. The Minneapolis Police Chaplain Corp’s efforts were cited and commended by many, but the most memorable thank you was likely the standing ovation they received from surviving family members at the opening ceremony for the 35W Memorial.

I used to tell officers that in policing, “we are only as good as we are today.” On August 1st, Minnesota public safety providers were nothing short of superb. The Minneapolis Police Department then ensured that on-going efforts would not diminish. There were many individual and department commendations. The highest were the Minnesota Police Chief’s Medal of Honor and the United States Senate’s esteemed “National Service Award.”

The weather was below zero on the day that this photograph was taken on a street in Downtown Minneapolis in 1978. Can you help us to identify the officer in this photograph?

Photograph courtesy of the Minnesota Historical Society

Here is a photograph of a coat that we have in the collection of the Minneapolis Police Museum. Was a coat like this part of your MPD winter uniform?

The murder of Catherine Ginn by Harry Hayward was the most notorious homicide case of Minneapolis’ Gilded Age. Minneapolis newspapers covered the trial on a daily basis and photography studios issued collectible postcards such as this one featuring familiar faces from the trial.

Cabinet photograph from 1894 courtesy of Minnesota Historical Society

Can you help us identify anyone in this picture of the American Legion Post 396 – Minneapolis Police? We believe that this photograph was taken in 1940.

Photograph courtesy of Minnesota Historical Society

Today we are sharing another story from the “Minneapolis Police 150th Anniversary” book published by Acclaim Press (currently out of print).

“August 2, 2017 was an idyllic morning. Staff members at Minnehaha Academy were busy preparing for the school year ahead and Officers Dean Milner and Greg Kosch were cruising through the 3rd Precinct. Moments later, a large explosion at the school demolished the entire middle section of the building. The staff members ran out and MPD officers went rushing in.

“You see somebody lying there and there’s rubble all over him and he’s trapped. There’s fire everywhere; you can’t leave him lay there. You have to go do something, so there’s no decision actually,” Kosch would recall.

There was a concrete wall on top of the school’s soccer coach. The officers did all they could to break that wall, while smelling the gas leak and watching fires spread.

“All I could think of is “Boy I hope my kids understand why I did this” because I was ready to go. I thought it was our last day because I figured there would be a secondary explosion,” Officer Milner explained.

Officer Vicki Karnik also rushed in to help. “I saw the rubble down and the gentleman buried and I just went to work, didn’t even think about it. When I got home, my son, who had watched the live coverage … he hugged me like eight times, and he’s a teenage boy! It meant a lot to me.”

At the same time, Officer Dante Dean was carrying the school’s president away from the fires and rubble, her interview with a job candidate had just been interrupted by the devastating blast. The school lost two staff members that day. A few weeks later, they would invite the heroic officers back to the academy to honor their courage and selflessness. The soccer coach was among those in the massive crowd.

Officers Kosch and Milner couldn’t forget what the coach had said to them in the intense moments after they somehow broke apart and lifted that wall. “He looked at us and said, ‘Guys, thanks for saving me.’ That’s kind of when all this hit home for me — I was just doing my job,” Officer Kosch concluded.”

Photograph from Sergeant Tidgwell’s book shows Minnehaha Academy President, Dr. Donna Harris, being rescued from the explosion by Officer Dante Dean

In this crime prevention photo from 1938, Detective Ed Ryan (at car door) demonstrates how a car thief can easily steal an automobile left running by slipping into the driver’s seat before the owner, played by Detective John Sistok (on sidewalk), is even out of sight.

Many thanks to Jeff Grates for providing some additional information on this posting!

Jeff shared that Detective Ed Ryan went on to become Hennepin County Sheriff. Jeff’s neighbor, when he was growing up, was Duke Fabry. Duke Fabry was a Minneapolis Police Officer who went on to become Ed Ryan’s Under Sheriff. Duke Fabry’s son, Howard, became an FBI Agent.

Photograph courtesy of Hennepin County Library

Many thanks to Jeff Grates for helping us identify the officers in this 1978 photograph taken on Nicollet Mall.

Jeff identified the officer with the dog as Bill Lundquist and the other officer as Jerry Bridgeman.

We appreciate Jeff’s help!

Photograph courtesy of Minnesota Historical Society

We have a story to share with you from the “Minneapolis Police 150th Anniversary” book published by Acclaim Press (currently out of print).

It is a story from Officer Kenneth R. Smith called, My Hiring On and First Night as a Cop.

In the words of Officer Smith:

“In 1961, I was living in Minneapolis driving a city delivery and pickup route for the Wilson Truck System, headquartered in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. I was working out of a terminal in Roseville. It was a pretty good job, union, paying about $2.80 an hour (which was pretty good in those days), with a chance to pick up an hour or so of overtime every day.

During the late summer and fall of that year, I kept hearing that the Minneapolis Police Department was looking to hire a large group of new officers. It turned out that the department had been working a 48-hour week, meaning that the officers had only one day off each week. The Police Federation had worked hard to get their members a 40-hour week, but the city wouldn’t budge. Finally, it had been brought up as a change in the City Charter, and the citizens of Minneapolis voted in favor of it.

At the time, you had to be 23 years old to apply for the department, but to attract more applicants, the age was lowered to 22. Every evening I would look around at the old guys working on the dock, and think, “Do I want to be doing this when I’m 65?” So, one day soon after my 22nd birthday I made a decision, stopped my truck at the Second Precinct station, and asked the desk man for an application. I figured it didn’t cost anything to try. The old man at the desk said I was too young, even though I had just turned 22. He wouldn’t give me an application until I showed him my driver’s license, and even then, I could see he was not happy about it. I took it home and filled it out. You had to be a United States citizen, a high school graduate, live in the City of Minneapolis, have a Minnesota Driver’s License, and have no felony record. Your misdemeanor record had to be very minor, too. I sent it in and soon received a notice that I should appear at South High School to take the police examination. It was in the evening, I think in November.

The lunchroom was full of hopeful guys, but I thought the test was pretty easy. In a few days, I received a letter from the city that I had passed and I should show up for the agility test. It was during the day at some grade school, so I drove my delivery truck to the location and took the test on Wilson Truck System’s dime. The only thing I was worried about was climbing the rope, which I hadn’t done since high school, but I made it up the rope okay. I then received another letter to take a physical, which was in the evening. I passed the physical and the last hurdle was the psychological examination. It wasn’t much, just a group of guys sitting around, talking about why we wanted to be cops.

In the middle of January, 1962, I received a final letter telling me I was hired, and to show up at the City Council meeting on February 9th to be sworn in, and, to show up at the Minneapolis Armory downtown on Monday the 12th to begin rookie school, which was to last for four weeks. Imagine, four weeks to go from citizen to police officer. I told my boss I was leaving; he was happy for me, or maybe just happy to get rid of me! I showed up at the swearing in wearing my only suit, and took the oath. Starting pay was $478 a month, no overtime.

It turned out that they were hiring 160 new officers, 40 every month from January through April. The January class was from the old hiring list they had. The February class was the rest of the old list and about 20 from the new list, which included me. Rookie School was fun. We learned the ins and outs of police work, lots of stuff about the new search and seizure, and arrest laws. And, we got to go out to the range and try out our brand new revolvers. The range guys were really nice, and taught me how to shoot pretty well. We also got fitted out in our new uniforms, gun belts, and swanky leather jackets. I should mention that the city furnished us with a badge, a cap badge, a whistle, and a nightstick. We had to pay for everything else ourselves. We did get a raise to $492 during Rookie School, though. We also spent a couple of days signing up for all sorts of police groups. Finally, in the last week of school, we were given our assignments. I think Inspector Farrell was glad to see us go. I was sent to the Fifth, or Bryant Precinct, with three of my classmates, to appear for the Night, or Dog, watch, on March 12, 1962.

We all got there in plenty of time, and the Sergeant introduced us to the other officers. We then lined up for roll call and were given our assignments. Mine was the Nicollet and Lake beat. I was paired up with an old timer, who told me to park in the bank lot and meet him on the corner. So, I was standing there with my toes over the curb, when he came up to me and said, “This beat goes from Blaisdell to Third Avenue on Lake, and from 28th to 32nd on Nicollet. You take the south side, I’ll take the north.” With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me on the curb, somewhat taken aback. I had hoped he would show me the ropes.

I wasn’t sure what to do. I knew I had to check in every hour at a call box on my beat, and I could use the call boxes or a pay phone to call for assistance, if needed (we were told to always carry a dime). There were three open businesses on my part of the beat… a 24-hour restaurant on the corner, a bar on 31st and Nicollet, and a towing company that did towing for the city on 32nd and Nicollet. At that time, there were no computers in the cars, no portable radios, tasers, or pepper spray; the only tools we had were a whistle, a nightstick, and a revolver.

I walked the beat that night, checking for open doors, check- ing in every hour, and spending a lot of time in Hill’s Café and Graham’s Towing. The patrol cars in the district also asked me to listen to their radios when they took their lunch break. It was a night I’ll never forget.”

Please reach out to us at info@mplspolicemuseum.org if you have a story you would like to share.