‘Alley Gallery of Loss’ Archives
Wizard Marks, assiduous artisan of articulation, bestowed a treasure trove of written wisdom
Wizard Marks”' Alley writings are “Bound for the Future” at Libraries.Wizards Marks left indelible marks (pun intended) with superb articles and extensive investigative reports for The Alley from mid 1980s to 1990s. Her excellent work is now bound within reprinted Alley Newspapers in hard-cover volumes at the Hennepin County Franklin Community Library and the Hennepin County Minneapolis Library. Wizard Marks 1943-2018 Wizard Maureen Marks was born in Cincinnati, Ohio in 1943 to Elizabeth Ruth Marks Halpin and Vincent Paul Halpin, and raised in a WWII federal housing project called “English Woods.” “It was a ghetto away from other neighborhoods, a ghetto in the woods,” Marks said and “because it was segregated, it was inhabited by hillbillies.”””her people. Cincinnati is the first major stop north of the Mason-Dixon Line along the Dixie Highway, the main migration route for hillbillies. In those days, federal projects did [...]
Get Dick Bancroft!
Dick Bancroft, Storyteller, July 21, 1927 ”“ July 16, 2018 COURTESY OF BANCROFT FAMILY BY LAURA WATERMAN WITTSTOCK Dick was born in St Paul, MN on July 21, 1927 to parents who were both industrious and creative, and they wanted their son Dick to be the same. He shoveled walks and did many other chores for nickels, following his father”'s admonition of saving half of what he earned. Along the way he learned to care for farm animals and milk cows. But these were chores. Dick had ideas and wanted to express them in images. As a child, Dick earned a small plastic Kodak camera. He began to take his own pictures. They were no more than two inches square, but they were so cherished, that he had them in his collection at life”'s end. There were pictures of the family, the dog, and the car. But Dick wanted more than that. Above all, he wanted a real camera. At that time his family subscribed to the magazine “LIFE,” with its brilliant pictures of famous [...]
Our DAD, Virgil Welna
By VIRGINIA M. MAGNER He unlocks the door and cranks down the awning. Then turns on the lights. A new day is dawning. It”'s eight o”'clock sharp; all merchandise in its”' place. For the next 10 hours he”'ll keep a steady pace. Serving the needs of the young and the old. And listening with his heart, I have been told. Down creaky stairs, he heads for the basement. To a child”'s eyes, it is a place of amazement. Wood beams on the ceiling and limestone for walls. And whiffs of machine oil I do recall. (more…)
