Bill Sackter's neighborhood remembered

Bill Sackter, for whom Wild Bill's Coffee Shop is named, started his life in a neighborhood of 19th century wood frame homes just north of downtown Minneapolis. These dwellings were located along dirt streets and were already old when Bill was born in 1913. In fact, they were some of the oldest in the city at that time.

Bill grew up above his parents' grocery store on Aldrich Avenue North. His parents had emigrated from Russia to the United States, as had many of their neighbors. And like many of their neighbors, they were also Jewish.

Bill's neighborhood was one of the earliest centers of Jewish culture in Minneapolis. It was here that the first synagogues in the city began.
It was here, too, that kosher markets and Yiddish theater flourished.

And it was here that the tradition of Jewish social services began in Minneapolis. Families in the neighborhood developed their own social welfare system which was originally financed by a "tithe" of ten cents per week. This provided not only aid to the poorest families, but also supported a community center and programs for youth.

All of that is gone. In fact, Bill's entire neighborhood is gone -- obliterated by successive waves of urban renewal which began in the 1930s in Minneapolis.

But there are some pictures of the area as it was in Bill's childhood days on display in a Minneapolis restaurant. The Lincoln Delicatessen, 4100 W. Lake St., has photographs of this Jewish neighborhood on its walls.

That history is also recalled in two stage plays. One, titled "King of the Kosher Grocers, " focuses on a Jewish grocer like Bill's Dad, Sam. The other, "Good Evening! It's A City Celebration" includes a scene about Bill himself which was inspired by the "Unlikely Celebrity" book
Note to readers: Since this column was written, the Lincoln Del has closed. I do not know where the old Northside photographs are now

What if Bill's parents hadn't been immigrants and poor?

If you go to the outdoor concerts on Friday evenings during the summer in Iowa City, you'll often see young people dancing down in front of the band. There is one
young man there, probably in his mid 20s, who reminds me of Bill Sackter. I'm not sure why, but there is something about him that gets me thinking of Bill's life as a young man.

Bill, for whom Wild Bill's Coffeeshop in Iowa City is named, spent his 20s in a state hospital in Minnesota. That would have been in the 1930s. When I watched this young man on Friday evenings one recent summer, I thought about how different Bill Sackter's life would have been had he been able to grow up in a community instead of an institution.

Actually, most individuals with disabilities do grow up in communities -- not in institutions. They did a century ago; they do now. In his book, The Unlikely Celebrity, Tom Walz says that overall less than 10 percent of individuals with mental limitations ever lived in state hospitals.

But if you were poor -- or from an immigrant family -- your chances of being institutionalized during much of 20th century were greatly increased. Bill was both. His parents were immigrants from Russia. His family struggled to make ends meet; when his father died the economic struggle was even greater.

Bill's limitations were viewed as a hardship for his family (in part because of their poverty). School officials recommended he be sent to Faribault state hospital.

In his book, Tom Walz quotes Bill's recollection of this:

"Then they took us before some kind of board that judged how crack-minded you were. They told my mama and me, standin' there with the psycho teacher and the principal, that I was a har'ship to my family, and I'd probably be a ha'rships to the community. They commit me, buddy, took away my citizenship, and shipped me off to Faribault..."

Besides being poor, Bill's parents were also immigrants -- Russian Jews who came to the United States to escape persecution. But they ended up in a city where institutionalized prejudice against Jews was then widespread. Jewish doctors could not join the staff of most local hospitals. Services and social clubs were closed to Jews. Even AAA Auto Club wouldn't allow Jewish members. Discrimination against Jews was so great that writer Carey McWilliams, writing in the 1940s, called Minneapolis the "capital of anti-Semitism in the United States."

This strong anti-Semitism continued into the 1950s, according to local historians. For more information, one good source is the Minneapolis Jewish Federation. You'll find their website at: www.jewishminnesota.org/minneapolis/minneapolisFedAbout. Another is "Minneapolis Past," a video produced by KTCA TV, Twin Cities Public Television.)

One can't help but wonder how different Bill's life might have been if he hadn't been poor or the son of Russian Jewish immigrants.

Bill spent nearly half century at state hospital

Bill Sackter spent nearly half a century at a state mental hospital in Minnesota. He was sent there as a seven year old child in the 1920s and remained there for 46 years.

Sackter, for whom Bill's Coffee Shop is named, was a resident at Faribault State Hospital, a giant institution with roots almost as old as the state of Minnesota. Minnesota became a state in 1858; the very first session of the state legislature authorized the establishment of centers for the "training and care of citizens who suffered mental and physical disabilities and for children who were unable to care for themselves."

The "state asylum" opened in 1863. It first was a residence for the "deaf, dumb and blind."

In 1879, an experimental program for "idioticand feeble-minded children" was added. Two years later, this became a permanent program under the name of "School for Idiots and Imbeciles." Later names for the center
included "Minnesota Institute for Defectives" and "School for the Feeble-
Minded."

In 1885, another program, the "State School for Neglected and Dependent Children," was added. It was located in the nearby community of Owatonna.

By the time Bill Sackter arrived at Faribault in the 1920s, there were hundreds of people living there from all over Minnesota. And the institution continued to grow during most of Bill's years there. By 1955,
there were more than 3,300 residents at Faribault.

Once sent there, few individuals ever left Faribault. After they died, they usually were buried in a cemetery on the state hospital grounds.

Minnesota was not alone in removing individuals with disabilities from mainstream society. Every other state had similar institutions -- and so did many other countries. These institutions were based on a philosophy that such segregation was a good idea.

An historical marker on I-35 in Minnesota explains that Faribault state hospital was "established to provide students with activities and training, while protecting them from the slights and rebuffs of the
outside world." (This marker is located at the Straight River rest stop between Albert Lea and Cannon Falls.)

There were always parents and others who doubted the wisdom of separating individuals with disabilities from their families and communities. But it was not until the late 1950s that their voices were loud enough to be heard in the halls of the legislatures and the meeting
rooms of professional societies.

By the 1960s, conventional professional wisdom shifted to support the idea of having individuals with disabilities stay in their communities. Counties stopped sending individuals to state hospitals. Then came a series of decisions to return to communities those who had been institutionalized.

Bill Sackter returned to Minneapolis in 1964 at age 50 He got a job working in the kitchen of the restaurant at the Minikahda Country Club. Later, he met Bev and Barry Morrow there; Bev was a waitress at the restaurant.

Hundreds of other men and women left Faribault in the 1960s and returned to Minneapolis and other communities around the state. (The same process was repeated in Iowa, South Dakota and other states.) Then in 1998, the state hospital at Faribault was closed for good.

For more on the history of Faribault state hospital, check these
websites:

http://www.mnhs.org/library/findaids/80881. html
(Minnesota Historical Society)

http://americanhistory.si.edu/disability rights/welcome.html (Smithsonian Institution)

Finding insights in "Riding the bus with my sister"

One place to find insights about abilities awareness is in Rachel Simon's book, "Riding the bus with my sister." Her book is based on her experiences riding city buses with her sister, Beth. Through these adventures, Rachel learns about the life and spirit of her sister.

Thanks to the book, we get to go along on the journey of discovery and exploration. We learn about Beth, a strong young woman with a disability. We also learn about Rachel as she learns about Beth. And we see the reactions of dozens of people to Beth as she rides the buses all over town.

As you read the story, did you identify more with Beth or Rachel? Why?

Why does Beth want Rachel to ride the buses with her?

Why does Rachel agree?

Which of the bus drivers did you most identify with? Why?

What's your reaction to Rachel's struggles around self-determination?

What insights about abilities awareness have you gained from reading this story?