The North Shore Beckons
Hiding Out in the Northwoods
Seven years ago, I moved to the North Shore of Lake Superior. I grew up in Bloomington, Minnesota not far from the first shopping mall in the country — Southdale. In fact, as the story goes, my mother walked into the Human Resources Department at Daytons Department Store in the mall and asked for a job, pushing one-year-old me in a stroller and holding my three year old sister’s hand. She sold Stride Rite shoes in the children’s department there for thirty-five years before retiring with a pension and a 401K — two things my self-employed carpenter father did not have.
When I approached retirement, I wanted to move north — to the shore of Lake Superior, the inland sea, the largest freshwater lake in North America. Grand Marais, Minnesota to be specific. My south-moving friends thought I’d lost my mind. Somehow, I convinced my husband to join me.
We found an amazing home on the shore in Hovland (though twenty miles further up the shore). The sun shining through the floor to ceiling windows on the lakeside flooded the rooms with natural light. The minute we walked in the door it felt like home.
There are lots of challenges to living here. Like most of Minnesota, winters are cold and snowy. Only here, winter hangs around until the end of April. It’s not unusual to get snow in early May and we often have our first snowfall of the season in October. To many, it seems a harsh climate and not a place they would choose to live.
The north woods are, however, a perfect place to retreat or escape. One of the more infamous stories of criminals hiding out on the North Shore is of the Trenchcoat Robbers. Michael Kirkpatrick and Ray Bowman successfully robbed banks all over the U.S. wearing wigs, mustaches, and yes, trenchcoats. They would meticulously plan their heists, living in different states and then meet up for the intended hit. Over the course of their fifteen-year “careers” they had robbed banks of over eight million dollars and never been caught. But eventually, mistakes were made. Kirkpatrick moved to Hovland, MN and had a log cabin built, paying the builder with bags of cash as the project proceeded. He was notoriously difficult to work with and when the builder received his final payment, he reported him to the IRS. Not long after that, Kirkpatrick was stopped for speeding in Nebraska. When he acted suspicious, the officer searched his car and found a ski mask, guns, and 1.8 million in cash. Bowman was implicated after Kirkpatrick’s arrest when officers searching Kirkpatrick’s Hovland log cabin found a photo of Bowman and his family on his refrigerator. Kirkpatrick served fifteen years and Bowman served twenty-four years for the crimes and have since been released. Maybe they’re our neighbors again?
Al Capone also escaped to the North Shore, along with several other mobsters from Chicago. While the others stayed at the Lutsen Lodge, Capone wanted a more remote location and was offered a fish house along the shore. He was reportedly charged an extra $20 when the house was found riddled with bullet holes.
Babe Ruth, Jack Dempsey, and Ring Lardner escaped to the North Shore as well. They were charter members of Naniboujou Lodge (Naniboujou is the Cree god of the outdoors). The lodge was intended to be an exclusive private club for wealthy patrons who wished to fish, hunt, canoe, and believe it or not, swim in Lake Superior and the surrounding lakes. The crash of 1929 spelled the beginning of the end. The lodge is still in operation and has been owned by several different families over its history. The most astounding thing about the lodge (besides its former patrons) is the dining room, boasting the largest stone fireplace in the state made of Lake Superior stones, and uniquely painted by French artist Antoine Goufee with Cree indian designs on the walls and 20 foot domed ceiling. The brightly colored design has earned the Naniboujou dining room the nickname, The Cistene Chapel of the Northwoods.
Inland off the lake, deep in the forests between Hovland and Grand Portage, home of the Ojibwe reservation, there are rusted out husks of cars from the bootlegging days of prohibition when runners would keep the bars well supplied along the shore.
My retreat to the North Shore was not so nefarious. It was a desire to live near the water and the woods and the stone along the shore. My friends thought it was the mineral content of the rock along the shore that drew me here — like one of those holistic bracelets some people wear. It is the most beautiful place I’ve ever lived. The waves crashing on the basalt ledgerock shore outside my home send up sprays of confetti during the gales of November. Ships passing in the night with their decks lit up like cruiselines carry ore to Silver Bay and Duluth. Some sunrises stretch like taffy across the sky in shades of peach, others blaze in fiery oranges and reds. On overcast days, the water and the sky bleed together so that you cannot see the horizon and the entirety of the world appears to be a blank canvas waiting to be painted. On sunny days, the lake looks as though someone has sprinkled a blanket of sequins across the water. Forests, hiking trails, rivers, and waterfalls make this place an oasis away from the rush of the city. A place to be. A place to become. A place to rest.
When I began writing my novel, THE VIOLET HOUR BOOK CLUB, I wanted my protagonist Violet to have a place to escape. The North Shore beckoned. After the sudden death of her husband, Violet moves to the North Shore, to a home she christens Selah, a Hebrew word used in the Psalms to denote a musical rest. She retreats to Selah to recover, but soon after she arrives, she discovers that the past will haunt her wherever she lives — until she has the courage to confront it.
You can listen to my author interviews and read my book reviews on my website www.superiorreads.com or listen to them on WTIP Radio, 90.7, Grand Marais the fourth Thursday of the month at 7pm and the following Saturday at 6am.
