Sunday, May 4, 1930: Farmers market opens

Posted on April 11th, 2008 – 12:00 AM
By Ben Welter

In May 1930, a Minneapolis Tribune reporter had to get up pretty early in the morning to witness the opening of the city’s newly horseless – but not smokeless — Central Market.

Trucks Fill City Market
As 1930 Season Is Opened

Business Starts Early When Farmers Bring First
Products of Year for Sale and Distribution.

The Minneapolis Central market opened Saturday.

Promptly at 5 a.m., while most of the city still slept, the long rows of weatherbeaten sheds at Second avenue north and Sixth street let go the cloak of monotony and dreariness, their winter garb, and became alive once more with the noise, the confusion and the smell of the market place.

Business began early.

The sun was just getting to its feet when a truck, the first of a long procession, snorted its way into the market, proud of its distinction of being the first to arrive. Behind the wheel was D.W. Morris of Brooklyn Center, who had potatoes to sell.

Tobacco Smoke Fills Air.

But Mr. Morris had no opportunity to feel lonely. Behind him came other trucks loaded with vegetables, berries, flowers – the stock in trade of the farmer and the necessity of the urbanite. With the trucks came conversation, cheerful greetings, and the smell of tobacco which broke into the crisp morning air from comforting, well-worn pipes.

For the years have made their subtle changes in the market place. It is a horseless market now. Long rows of trucks parked before the platforms and unloaded their produce. Not a horse was to be seen.

Greetings and the conversation are brief. There can be no loitering in the market. Trucks must be unloaded. Tricks of display must be utilized. There was hammering as impromptu counters are built. On and behind the counters were placed the potatoes, radishes, onions, strawberries. There was a chance to sell. And 169 stallkeepers, a record number of an opening day, were determined to sell.

All Is Activity

For an hour the rush continued. At exactly six o’clock, Robert Smith, assistant market master, stepped to a box on a large post, opened a door and rang a bell. It was a large bell and it rang with a clarion note that echoed from stall to stall. The market, for 1930, was open.

Down the aisles of the three vegetable stalls and the berry stall all was activity. Men and women stood by their goods, artfully arranged. Display ability is the chief requisite here. For the central market is a “silent” market. No cries of hucksters fill the air. No loud-voiced seller can butter a more … by his leather lungs. Orders are kept with strict obeyance, and the order is “no howling.”

The display of goods is picturesque. Here was a large truck load of onions and radishes, the red of the latter gleaming forth from the midst of the long-stemmed white onions.

Here was a truck load of pansies, fragrant and colorful.

Pie Plant Everywhere

Farther down the narrow aisle a grey-haired woman displayed canned goods. Large jars of honey, taken from the bee hives on her farm are in evidence.

Pie plant, or, to be high brow, rhubarb, was everywhere. Truck after truck was loaded with great bunches of the red-stemmed plant.

Over in another shed, berries of every description were on display. Strawberries waiting for the shortcake met the eye.

In the midst of the bustle and roar, a man hurried here and there, questioning and answering questions, giving orders and seeing that they were carried out.

He is R.H. Adams, grey-haired and kindly faced, who has been market master more than 37 years. He paused to greet man after man as he walked along the platforms. He knows everyone, and everyone knows him.

“It’s the best opening day we have had as far back as I can remember,” Mr. Adams said Saturday as he watched long lines of trucks move toward the stalls. “With the warm sun and pleasant weather, gardeners have been able to produce real stuff.”

Minneapolis City Market in about 1935. (Photo courtesy mnhs.org)

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