“From the minute we went through Dayton’s heavy revolving doors, I was in hog heaven.”

Now & Then

Little Sister writes: “Even though I haven’t darkened any doors of the Nicollet Mall in Minneapolis for years, I am sad to hear that Macy’s is considering closing the store. It’s another bittersweet reminder of a bygone era — not for Macy’s, but for what once was Dayton’s flagship store.

“Shopping there was a magical experience for me, growing up in the ’50s and early ’60s. There were few, if any, malls at the time, so some of my earliest memories, before I started school, were of my mother and me and our downtown adventures.

“We lived in a small town about an hour’s drive from Minneapolis. Once in a while, my dad would have to spend the day at his company’s main office, and being a one-car family at the time, my mother took full advantage. After getting the big kids off to school, we’d take Highway 65 all the way, and Dad would drop Mom and me off at my grandparents’ house in Nordeast. From there, we would walk the few blocks to Danielson’s Drug Store on Central Avenue, where we would catch a downtown bus.

“From the minute we went through Dayton’s heavy revolving doors, I was in hog heaven. What struck me every time was that all the lady customers were decked out, as my dad used to say, in all their finery. You wouldn’t think of going out without dressing up back then, even for shopping, although our attire must have certainly had a conservative rural flair to it. I took in the patent-leather high heels, bright red lipstick, fox stoles, white gloves, and hats of every description. I often wondered how they kept the seams in their hosiery so straight. I knew my mother and older sister had a time with theirs.

“I looked forward to many parts of the excursion, because there was so much to drink in. The lady elevator attendants always looked so professional; I was sure they had one of the most important jobs in the whole store. Their perfume would greet you as the doors slid open — scents which were those you could find at the first-floor cosmetics counter: Tabu, Blue Grass, White Shoulders, or Chanel No. 5.

“Just as exciting was the escalator ride to the upper floors, a ride that seemed to go on forever. We would often meet my aunt, who was a Dayton’s accountant, for lunch at the Sky Room on the eighth floor. The food was heaven, and it felt like being in another world. For dessert, my mother would take me to the candy counter on another floor. She would always get humdrum chocolate-covered peanuts for herself, but would allow me the agony of having to choose something else from the dizzying array of choices behind the glass cases. I usually settled for chocolate stars with sprinkles.

“I recall that mysterious bongs would sound periodically throughout the store, sometimes two or three at a time, and repeat itself. It was a musical sound, a pleasant reminder of where I was, and I imagined they meant something incredibly important. Mom said they were just signals for the store management, but I couldn’t buy into such a mundane theory. Those chimes just added to the atmosphere and grandeur of the place for me.

“Something else that intrigued me was the fourth-floor ladies lounge and restroom, where a gleaming black-and-white checkered floor greeted you. There were upholstered chairs for weary patrons to relax upon and enjoy a cigarette. Another curiosity: PAY toilets! Of course, my mother always said the abundant free ones were perfectly fine for our needs. After all, the free ones had a handy shelf that pulled down for your parcels, and they had the paper seat covers my mother insisted upon. However, I couldn’t help but wonder what luxuries lay beyond that door with a nickel coin drop. When it was time to wash up, I marveled that pink frothy soap would squirt generously into your palm with just the press of a hand. And how grand it was to have a uniformed attendant hand me a gleaming white paper towel from a stack she had ready and waiting. Then I’d watch my mother generously reapply her lipstick and press her mouth on one of those towels. It would leave behind a perfectly formed red imprint. I so wanted to do that! There were invariably quite a number of similarly stained towels left behind in the wastebasket.

“We would usually visit the other downtown department stores, too, like Donaldson’s, Young-Quinlan, and JC Penney. Sometimes we would grab a root beer at the Woolworth’s lunch counter before it was time to take the bus back to my grandparents’ house and meet Dad after work. But for many reasons, it was Dayton’s that left the biggest impression. It could be that we would faithfully have our picture taken with their Santa at Christmas, visit the eighth-floor holiday shows, and marvel at the intricately designed window displays. Yes, it was and is no contest for me. Dayton’s had all the other stores beat. They still do.”

BULLETIN BOARD SAYS: We will now (and always) welcome memories, from wherever you grew up, of the Golden Age of Department Stores — now long past. Please send them to BB.onward@gmail.com. Thanks.

Then & Now
And: In memoriam

John in Highland reports: “Recently, one of our fellow Army veterans, Tom Stevens, passed away. He was part of our group of 30 St. Paul-area young men who entered the Army on the 12th of May in 1969. The family allowed me to have a copy of this photo of our basic-training platoon, which I had never received.

“Tom and I are in the picture. If you were part of our St. Paul group and you were assigned to the 1st Platoon of ‘D’ Company, you might be able to find yourself in the photo. Thank you for your service!”

Mounds View Swede: “I took no fall-color trips this year, so just kept within a three-block radius of home. There were two striking trees that really ‘called’ to me.

“I am especially drawn to leaves with the sunlight shining through them. That glow catches my attention every time. Since they are on other people’s property, I am careful with the angle I choose to minimize anything other than the tree and leaves themselves.

“You’d think that with all that gear, they’d be sure to get a bit of Bigfoot footage. Think again. They had camera on themselves most of the time. Point the cameras at the woods, guys — the woods!

“We did see a short trail-cam segment of the nose of some whiskered animal. There are a couple of night segments of the guy looking scared and acting like he’s hearing mysterious noises around him, but no Bigfoot — fooled once again.”