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		In the March 24, 2009, edition of SOTW, Robin threw down the literary 
		gauntlet by writing that: 
			
			“Minnesota has a somewhat dubious reputation in 
		my mind as providing the greatest number of ambiguous shots -- as in, 
		are they pre-pro or post-repeal? No doubt we've all been suckered into 
		buying what looks like a pre-pro glass from Minnesota (and billed as 
		such by the seller) and then discovering that in fact it's from the '40s 
		and thereby worthless.   | 
            
            
            
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Hennepin Avenue, Minneapolis:
A Shot Glass Mecca or Morass?  | 
             
           
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		I also think of Minnesota as being the state that gave us the 
		greatest number of instantly forgettable glasses, most of which 
		originated from Minneapolis. No doubt Dick Bales will be spurred to 
		prove me wrong in a future edition of The Common Stuff.” 
		 
		 
		I will admit that Robin has a point (yes!!  Ed.). For example, he mentioned the 
		
		
		Davis Mercantile Co.,
		
		California Wine House, and
		
		Dryer's Wines and Liquors glasses
		as examples of snoozer shots. But he conveniently failed to 
		mention the highly collectible A.M. Smith glasses of 247-249 Hennepin 
		Avenue, Minneapolis 
		
		
		 
		Robin 
		writes in his database that Andrew M. Smith was born in Denmark. 
		He opened the first California Wine Depot in Salt Lake City, Utah and 
		then moved to Philadelphia. Smith set up the Minneapolis branch in 1886 
		and closed the others. Smith died in 1915 but his son, Arthur Mason 
		Smith subsequently took over the business. 
		
			
				
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		But there are more shot glasses that bear the Hennepin Avenue name than 
		just the A.M. Smith glasses. 
					 
					Consider, e.g., the A. Eisler glass (210 
		Hennepin) and the Palace Liquor Bazaar glass (402 Hennepin).  | 
					
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		Indeed, in keeping with the “Common Stuff” theme of this column, one 
		could devote a large amount of effort (and perhaps not too much cash) in 
		collecting just “Hennepin Avenue” shot glasses. 
		 
		Contrary to Robin’s snobbery, such a pursuit would be a glorious one. 
		Although Minneapolis was incorporated in 1872, Hennepin Avenue (named 
		after Father Louis Hennepin, a Roman Catholic priest and an early 
		explorer of the interior of North America) dates back to the 1860s. Even 
		then, this right-of-way was the commercial center of the city. 
		Historians have dubbed the period from 1865 to 1890 as the “boom and 
		bloom years.” Bridge Square, at the foot of Hennepin Avenue, comprised 
		the area from Hennepin Avenue to Nicollet Avenue and from Washington 
		Avenue to the river. This square became the center of commercial and 
		civic activities. 
		 
		 The painting by Robert Koehler 
		(at right), “Rainy Evening on Hennepin Avenue,” 
		circa 1902, depicts the beauty of this thoroughfare at around this time. 
		 
		But by the end of the century, the business center of town began moving 
		from Hennepin Avenue to Nicollet Avenue. The avenue was facing its first 
		decline. Coming to its rescue and shaping Hennepin Avenue’s character 
		for the next fifty years was entertainment, vaudeville and theater. In 
		1886 (the year Andrew M. Smith set up shop), a traveling minstrel show 
		featuring Jo-Jo the Dog-Faced Boy drew a crowd of 8,000 people. A decade 
		or so later, theaters became the focus of Hennepin Avenue. Throughout 
		the 1920s, the avenue played host to all the so-called “greats” of 
		vaudeville—Al Jolson, Burns and Allen, and the Marx Brothers. Patrons of 
		the legitimate stage houses came to Hennepin Avenue to see Lillian 
		Russell, Ellen Terry, and Sarah Bernhardt. 
		
		 
		  
		
		On the postcard shown above, note that there is a theater on each side of 
		Hennepin Avenue. The names “Burns and Allen” appear on the marquee of 
		the Orpheum Theater, which is on the left side of the avenue, at 908-910 
		Hennepin. The photograph, taken in around 1925, shows another view of 
		this theater. 
		
		  
		
		 
		But 1929 brought the Depression, and Hennepin Avenue again fell from 
		grace. One account indicated that the avenue had become, by the end of 
		the 1920s, a “tumble down collection of cheap movie houses and 
		restaurants, squalid flop houses, penny arcades and pawn shops.” 
		 
		The 18th Amendment (1920) banned the sale, manufacture, and 
		transportation of alcohol. Prohibition lasted until 1933, when the 
		ratification of the 21st Amendment repealed the 18th Amendment. A 
		so-called “syndicate” delivered liquor to speakeasies up and down 
		Hennepin Avenue during this time. One oldtimer named Eddie Schwartz 
		recalled a potion, “Minnesota 13,” so powerful that he wondered, “how 
		the glass could hold it.” 
		 
		Hennepin Avenue has achieved iconic status in present-day Minneapolis 
		culture. It was prominently featured in the Prince movie “Purple Rain.” 
		It has been memorialized in songs by Tom Waits and Lucinda Williams. The 
		Orpheum Theater still stands, a testament to the tenacity of a gritty 
		street that refused to die. Hennepin Avenue lives on, as evidenced by 
		both this theater and its shot glasses. 
		
		 
		  
  
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