My dad worked at Archer-Daniels (now called ADM). He had graduated with a degree in Business, and his future looked bright. Like all of the Hall men, he was handsome, intelligent, and personable, but, for reasons that aren't clear, he lost that job. And there he was in a relatively small town, with a growing family, and no real prospects for another job like the one that he had at Archer-Daniels. Of course, I'm sure he could have worked at anything in Mankato, if he really wanted to stay there. But apparently he didn't. The big city beckoned.
|With my brothers and mom in the house on Bloomington Avenue. I'm at left.|
I have vague memories of visiting some of our Hall relatives in Southern Minnesota. My dad's grandfather, Truman Hall, had a farm there. And my dad's dad, Clyde, lived with his parents. I really have no memories of Truman and Clyde, but I've pieced it together. We didn't have any Hall relatives in Minneapolis, although there were a lot of people that I knew with that name. Of course, most people in Minneapolis had names like Satterberg, and Soderstrom, and there were a few Halls, but none were family.
By the way, if you listen to me or my brothers talk, and don't hear the typical *Minnesota accent* - (the kind that was made famous by the movie *Fargo*), it isn't because we've lost it by living in California, or Arizona. We grew up in Minneapolis, which has its own accent (or lack thereof) which is the voice of America on radio and TV. It's actually called a Twin Cities accent, and it's exclusive to Minneapolis/St. Paul. My parents still have a bit of their rural Minnesota accent, having grown up outside of the Twin Cities.
So that's the story of the Halls of Minneapolis!
Above: that's me on Bloomington Avenue at 48th Street in Minneapolis, delivering the Minneapolis Star and Tribune newspaper.