By Andy Mannix
By Caleb Hannan
By Olivia LaVecchia
By CP Staff
By Aaron Rupar
By Jacob Wheeler
By Olivia LaVecchia
By Aaron Rupar
We, the regulars of Hidden Beach, were all very excited about your recent article ("The Legend of Hidden Beach," 6/25/08). However, we have a few collective comments: 1. Stephan Vausser is the Mud Man, not just Mud Man. 2. The wooden lifeguard stand was not taken apart by vandals and made into a "smoke shack"; the bench on top of the stand was taken off and put in the woods by regulars, after just the legs of the stand had been burnt by others and the city was planning to throw it out entirely. 3. Tracy Nordstrom hears "nothing but good things" about the changes at Hidden Beach because she doesn't deem any complaints she does get as being valid; it is known for a downright fact that many of the neighbors on Upton Avenue South made numerous complaints—not anonymously—about different aspects of the handling of the beach. 4. We, especially Johnny Love, would really like to know where this "family table" is. In the end, "The Legend of Hidden Beach" is still the most accurate article any local publication has printed about the recent changes. Thanks for telling our side of the story.
Maija Varda, Johnny Love, and the beach regulars Hidden Beach
This is a fantastic article. I loved hanging out at Hidden Beach in the early '90s, when I was in my early twenties. I left Minneapolis in '95, and business has brought me back to the Twin Cities for the first time in years. A lot has changed since I've been gone, but this article is sweet reminiscence. It's unfortunate, however, that the kids these days just have nowhere to go and get their freak on once in a while. It's part of growing up, y'know?
In the late '80s/early '90s, that was a favorite place to go after the clubs closed and the after-hour parties were winding down. I forgot about how sweet it was until I read this article. Thanks for the memories.
Kari Hedegard Borden, Indiana
My best friends and I used to hang out at Hidden Beach. We even filmed a small project there in the mud pits! If you remember a bunch of women in mud-covered prom dresses, that was it. I will always remember those days with fondness. The presence of the police was always uneasy and, seemingly, ever increasing. We were always very respectful of others and very respected. It was a pretty free and easy place to relax. It is unfortunate that a couple of bad apples spoiled the bunch, but to be honest, the regulars are the least of the neighborhood's worries. Thanks for the memory stroll!
Chayo Smith St. Paul
I find it very unfortunate that 5 percent ruin it for the other 95 percent who are simply trying to find peace and relax from this increasingly chaotic world. A Zen-like utopia is how it was described. It used to feel that way. Deforestation and molestation of the vegetation is devastating enough on its own. I suggest the cops leave and find some crime to fight, not try to baby-sit the peacemakers of this city. It's clearly an easy way for them to literally "cop out" of their responsibilities—sitting on a beach is how they consider keeping the city safe. Really puts into perspective where the neighboring residents' ignorant priorities lie. We will never let the beach die!
Well, for all the time you spent at this beach, this is a pretty dumb article. Booooring. We've read it before; this is no new news. Yes, the part about waking up with a bum in your kitchen is hilarious, but it has nothing to do with the beach. The ending of this article is also dumb. Maybe you should write an article about how paying a million bones for your house doesn't mean that you won't have crime (that ain't fair). And maybe you should stick to writing about malls—that seems to be your specialty.