The mystery at 2008 Pillsbury Av. is quickly becoming the Case of the Ravaged House. It is a story about a famous architect and builder, a renowned designer, a suspect appraiser, some wily preservationists, angry neighbors, intrepid bank sleuths and the owners, former foster-care providers who can't be found.

 

Submitted by Minneapolis freelance journalist, Kay Hansen

“Collectors are passionately in love with the items they collect,” according to Laurie Rozakis, author of “Complete Idiots Guide to Buying and Selling Collectibles,” while investors are business people, first and foremost, who are interested in buying, selling and trading.”

Jerry Douglas, owner of the upcoming “Fat Albert Toy and Doll Show” straddles the two worlds.

“I have a personal interest in toys -- both collecting and buying to sell,” he said.
Douglas, who also owns and promotes the Triple Crown Sports Collectible Show, recently bought the Fat Albert Toy and Doll Show as an enjoyable and profitable compliment to a a childhood hobby that grew into a passion when he reached adulthood.

“Being raised in St Paul’s Selby Dale area, [I grew up] poor, ”Douglas said, “and collecting baseball cards was a cheap [hobby] -- something poor kids could do. The toys, though, were tough. My parents didn’t have the money for the good toys -- I always got the low end toys -- so when I graduated from college and got my first job I started shopping around for the toys that I always wanted as a child.”

Keeping an eye out for GI Joe's and Japanese tin cars from the 1950’s, Douglas forages flea markets, antique stores and collectors shows for toys he can add to his growing collection as well as for those he can sell to make a profit.

“I’d like to get a hold of a rare toy that's worth a lot of money,” Douglas said, “there are some robots out there from the 1950’s that are pretty rare.”

“Collecting toys for investment is an excellent hedge against inflation [because] toys steadily keep going up in value.” said Brent Harelson of Antique Toys.com, "It's become one of the top five collectibles in the USA and the explosion in the market has been nothing short of remarkable,”

Douglas offered tips for the budding collector or investor:

--Buy what you like. “Come to the toy show and look around and there will be something that’ll grab you,” he said.
.--Become familiar with current market value of toys by looking through newspaper ads, toy-sale catalogs and talking to local dealers.
--Focus on one or two areas of interest -- Japanese tin cars, for instance -- so you don’t spread your collection too thin.
--If you hope to earn a profit, buy the best you can afford. “A Barbie Doll from 1959, mint in the box with everything that came with it, can go for $20,000-$25,000,” Douglas said.
--And, most importantly, have fun. "You can pick up some toys, turn around and sell them and then go out and buy the toys that you really want."

The Fat Albert Toy and Doll Show is at the Medina Ballroom, four miles west of 494 on highway 55. For more information, call 612-718-2649.

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May 23, 2007
Posted by Jada Hansen, Executive Director
Some portions have been adapted from an article that originally appeared in Hennepin History, Spring 1978.

Sister Kenny, a Gift to Hennepin County and the World
I was sitting in my office just the other day when I paused to watch our curator, Jack, rustling through the adjacent room. Seeing my lapsed attention as an invitation to show me one of the many fascinating artifacts nestled in the collection, he walked in and placed an interesting doll down on my desk. He asked “I assume you are familiar with the great Sister Kenny?” I was of course familiar with the woman that had invented a treatment for polio, but I was not as well versed on the enormous impact Minnesota and Hennepin County had on the advancement of her methods. So why was Sister Kenny worthy of this little doll, which was made by a Hennepin County doll maker?

When I first began to research and write this submission, Sister Kenny was an historical character like so many that I have stumbled into; she was worthy and intriguing but of little relevance to my life outside of intellectual curiosity. Sister Kenny soon became very relevant to me however, about three days ago when my grandmother, whom I am very close to, had a stroke. Thankfully she survived it, although is now paralyzed on an entire side of her body, which is a paralysis that can sometimes be overcome by the sheer desire to persevere on the part of the patient (I learned all this through the Stroke Awareness Month brochures—how’s that for irony?). For my grandmother, evaluation for her prescribed course of therapy begins today. Will it be the world renowned Sister Kenny Institute housed here in Minneapolis, which has everything from acupuncture and massage treatments, to fully functioning kitchens? Or a nursing home, which allows the patient to move at whatever pace they choose. I cherish the service that nursing homes provide, but there is only one thing that a person thinks when being admitted to one such facility--this is the end. That in fact is why Sister Kenny is so important to the history of Hennepin County and to the world; she gave people hope where before there was none.

Elizabeth Kenny was born in Warrialda, New South Wales, Australia, on September 20, 1886. She was trained as a nurse and spent many years treating the sick in the isolated bush country. She quickly ascended to the rank of “Sister,” a term used by British military to designate chief nurse, and by 1940 she was on her way to being celebrated across the world for her treatment of polio; 19 years before a cure would be found.

While Sister Kenny was in the bush country she was developing a theory for treatment of the terrible muscular affliction, which largely afflicted children. It was then that she saw miraculous results through relieving muscular tightness and pain with hot, moist packs. Muscles that had been presumed paralyzed were now responding and becoming useful again. What set her apart from all the other medical practitioners of her time was that this method was diametrically opposed to that in use at that time—instead of immobilizing affected limbs in braces, she was treating them.

After 31 years of treating polio in Australia, Sister Kenny arrived in California expecting more than the cool reception that she received. Unable to have her ideas heard in California, she headed to New York where she encountered a campaign bent on discrediting her. Having been all but chased out of the East, Kenny went to Chicago where she sensed that the ice was finally melting; this gave her enough hope to continue on to Rochester, Minnesota.

Sister Kenny arrived in Minnesota in May of 1940. Kenny had never believed that Minnesota would bring her the success that it did, but rather she had planned on having a pleasant visit before returning home. The city of Rochester exuded such friendliness however, that Sister Kenny soon found herself having frank conversations with Mayo Clinic patients and then, doctors. The Mayo clinic physicians that she spoke with, Doctors Krusen and Henderson were not satisfied with the methods that they presently had at their disposal, and they admitted it; this was the huge turning point that brought Sister Kenny’s methods to the forefront of polio treatment.

Although Sister Kenny was given an audience in Rochester, there were no polio cases for her to demonstrate on, so she was referred to two Minneapolis doctors, Wallace Cole and Miland Knapp. It had been only six days from the time that Sister Kenny arrived in the Twin Cities that a St. Paul doctor ordered the splints, frames and casts off of his patience, which up until now had been unthinkable. By 1941 Kenny had been given 16 beds at Minneapolis General Hospital (now Hennepin County Medical Center) and 17 beds at the University of Minnesota. Soon families with paralyzed children were demanding that their doctors treat patience with the Kenny method, and doctors were being taught the new method at a rapid rate. December 12, 1942, the first Kenny Institute at 1800 Chicago Avenue was dedicated, and not even a freezing cold day could keep the crowds of onlookers away from the opening ceremonies. Sister Kenny had brought freedom to thousands and hope to millions.

Because the Chicago Avenue building would be the home to the Sister Kenny Institute, the most logical place for her to live was nearby, so a house on 25th and Park Avenue was purchased as her residence (this home has since been torn down). Her house keeper from 1948 to 1951, Martha Kloster said of Sister Kenny “She was always considerate of the people that worked for her despite the long hours that sister spent on her work or how trying the day had been for her…she had a heart of gold.” Although Sister Kenny had always been a tenacious fighter for her cause and was widely known for a hot temper, she was most adequately described as a person of compassion.

Not only did Sister Kenny impact Minnesota, but it is clear that Minnesota also left a mark on her. The people and the environment were something she always remembered with fondness. When on a tour around the Twin Cities, Kenny is said to have remarked “I never dreamed that one day I would stand on the rim of Lake Minnetonka and gaze across the sky-blue water to the wooded shores beyond.” And Minnesota never thought that one of its most cherished residences would be a nurse from Australia.

Sister Kenny's popularity was such that the well known doll maker, Hulda Olson, even crated this one of a kind doll in her likeness. This doll, among others, can be found in our collection.

If you would like to learn more about Sister Kenny come check out the full length article in our Hennepin History Magazine back issue, Spring 1978.

Posted April 30, 2007