Alley Readers Keep the Paper Going!

As a community-driven newspaper, we try diligently to stay on mission in serving the Phillips Community and to do so within our financial means. A relatively small group of dedicated volunteers and 3 very part-time contracted staff members—–a business manager, design/layout coordinator and community connector—-work to get the paper out each month. Other contracted support is provided by the printing company, an accountant, and bulk drop delivery person. Of course, our regular advertisers and writing contributors are to be commended because without them, we would not have the basics needed to produce the paper each month.

How do we know if this 50 year old community paper is fulfilling its purpose? Well, we don’t! We don’t have the funds for marketing or reader surveys so we rely on several more “low tech” ways.

• One way we know the paper is still of interest to folks is that papers are picked-up from the 114 drop sites.
• Another indication of interest in preserving the alley is the results from our fundraising appeal in late 2025; we raised about 6 percent of our annual budget of $42,000 from our readers! This was a remarkable and welcome occurrence that was so important to the financial wellbeing of Alley Communications, the nonprofit publisher of the alley.

Remembering for My Father

By MARY ELLEN KALUZA

My father’s family lived on the Iron Range – my grandfather worked in the mines. The family lived in a “location”, a small community of mining families that were frequently uprooted and moved when the mining company wanted to mine the land under them. Eventually they were moved to Chisholm, which had become a permanent settlement.

Dad would be 104 years old now. He was born in 1922 and died in 1978 at 56 years old. At 13 yrs old, his mother died and he was shipped down to the Twin Cities to stay with his mother’s sister. His 3 older brothers stayed on the Range, two of whom had physical or developmental disabilities from childhood diseases that are now easily avoidable with vaccines.

My dad’s aunt lived in South Minneapolis off of Franklin on Pleasant or Pillsbury Avenue, or thereabouts. He was enrolled in Wendell Phillips Junior High, just across the street from where I’ve lived for 51 years. Dad stayed in Minneapolis to attend trade school.… Read the rest “Remembering for My Father”

Minnesota Is Home

By MARIAN HASSAN

Editor’s note: Permission for reprinting comes from Minnesota Women’s Press. You can find more stories at womenspress.org.

I am Somali. I am a woman, a mother, a teacher, and a writer. I am Muslim. I am a proud Minnesotan. These identities do not exist separately. They shape how I see this moment and bear witness to what happens around us.

Like many Somalis in Minnesota, I am trying to understand how fear has entered ordinary spaces: schools, stores, gas stations, and the streets we have walked for years. I think about what this fear means for our children, our elders, and our sense of belonging.

What I see unsettles me. How did we get here? When did this become normal? Many of us waited years to arrive in a country we believed would offer safety and protection under the law. The distance between that promise and the reality we face now feels impossible to ignore. This is not an abstract fear. It follows us home.

The Somali community felt the shift quickly. Conversations that once centered on work, school, and family began to carry quiet warnings: avoid crowds, take different routes, stay alert, or stay home if possible.… Read the rest “Minnesota Is Home”