Councilor Fosle’s comments
In my last column, I wrote about the Duluth city council retreat, where a number of councilors spent some time badmouthing Fifth District city councilor Jay Fosle, who was absent from the retreat and who had recently been missing council agenda sessions. The reason for his absences, which none of the councilors were aware of, was that the meeting times conflicted with his treatment for diabetes and related health issues. Following the retreat—and despite having no reporters there—the Duluth News Tribune published a slanted story about Fosle’s absences, as if his health concerns meant nothing when weighed against what the News Tribune and his fellow councilors saw as his responsibility to attend non-required meetings. The city councilors quoted in the story—Joel Sipress, Howie Hanson, Barb Russ, and Em Westerlund—expressed no sympathy for Fosle’s health whatsoever.
Before publishing my article, I sent my recording of the retreat to Councilor Fosle so he could hear it firsthand. At the April 11 city council meeting, he publicly addressed the issue.

Fosle’s comments

Jay Fosle: Councilors, I would like to say that it was an enormous disappointment to have had some of my fellow councilors slander me at the retreat, and feel the need to participate in tabloid gossip without knowing the facts....I have attended many retreats in the past, and if memory serves me well, none have been fully attended…and never did anyone question a councilor for not making one…. I would like to point out something that [is] written on the council web page, on the board over there, and right on your agenda—the Tools of Civility, passed in 2003….These rules include: Pay attention, listen and be inclusive, do not gossip, show respect, be agreeable, apologize, give constructive criticism and take responsibility….I cannot believe certain councilors had the audacity to talk about me at a learning session as a group. Talking poorly about a fellow councilor in their absence is bullying, and I’m going to request that it stop….
I have never received an email or a phone call from any of the councilors asking why I have not been at the agenda sessions, who felt the need to talk about me at a learning session…. I am embarrassed for the Duluth News Tribune for feeling the need to report such a story, but we must remember [that in the past] they tried to make me out as a racist, too—another witch hunt ….I want to share with everyone the reporter who felt compelled to do this story on hearsay was not at the retreat. Yes, folks, you heard that correctly—he was not at the event. Bottom line to me is someone with a personal agenda had to contact this reporter to do this story about me, and the reporter fell for it….If the DNT wants to do a story on me so bad, why don’t they do one stating the facts that I am the first minority ever elected to the Duluth city council and that I am a descendant of Chief Buffalo from the Red Cliff band of Lake Superior Chippewa?
What if it were you? I would like to thank the other councilors and administration, who did not get into this discussion and for being adult and civil. As I listened to the tape, it appeared to me they were trying to sway councilors away from continuing with the attack discussion….
I’m not sure about others, but in my life my health and family are number one. That’s my number one priority, and I’m going to take care of myself no matter what some people think. Missing the agenda sessions has in no way [affected] my performance as a councilor, and I sincerely hope that all the councilors who chose to be involved in this type of behavior feel good about themselves and their decision to do so.

Following Fosle’s comments, Councilor Howie Hanson, who had been one of the most vocal councilors at the retreat, offered Fosle a public apology, to his credit. It can’t have been easy; apologizing may be one of the most difficult rules of civility to follow. Barb Russ and Em Westerlund, the other two worst offenders, didn’t apologize—perhaps because they believed they had done nothing wrong.

City council captions
I wasn’t at the April 11 council meeting in person. I was watching it online, as citizens have been able to do since 2014. The online service is useful in many ways—documents related to each agenda item are available at the click of a mouse and the meetings are archived for easy reference later. One area where the online meetings fall short, though, is in their use of closed captioning.
Anyone who followed council meetings solely by reading the captions that scroll across the bottom of the screen would quickly become confused. Not only do the words appear in stops and starts, sometimes frozen and sometimes speeding by, virtually every sentence contains vocabulary errors, as if the captioned world is a strange parallel universe that follows its own rules of existence.
Not that that universe isn’t entertaining. When somebody says “paying,” what appears on the screen is “pain.” The Historic Arts and Theatre District becomes the Stork Arts and Theatre District. Parks commissioner Ed Hall becomes “et al.” And on April 11, when council president Zack Filipovich asked the city clerk to call the roll, the captions reported him saying, “With a cold clerk, please call the world.”
I watched part of the April 11 meeting with the sound off. It was more fun than the real thing.

• “The agenda for this evening is posted on the baltimore and copies are payable in the rear of the chamber.”

• “Excuse me, Councilor Fossil, did you have one trend?”

• “I’m just reiterating what some of the people have insane.”

• “As a city in this community we need to attack first-class entertainment.”

• “I may not be prancing that last name correctly.”

Archiving meetings
Though council meetings are archived, many other meetings that take place in City Hall are not. Agenda sessions are recorded in audio format and posted online, but only the most recent meeting is available. When a new agenda session comes along, the previous recording is erased. Somebody is already recording them and posting them online—how hard would it be to archive them?
Furthermore, how hard would it be to record and archive ALL meetings held in city council chambers? Since all the equipment is in place, just waiting for somebody to press a button, it would very easy for the city to record meetings that are currently lost to the world as soon as they happen. Because agenda sessions and committee meetings are where councilors ask many of the questions they have on city issues, it would be extremely helpful to have them archived.

Aldi in Duluth?
Savvy consumers who appreciate good deals on canola oil, chorizo and black olives will be happy to hear that an Aldi grocery store might be coming to Duluth. At the Planning Commission meeting of April 12, 2016, Allison Kern, whose company, NLD, is a subsidiary of Minneapolis-based Capital Real Estate, told commissioners that NLD was acquiring the Hobby Lobby/Savers property on Maple Grove Road. Kern said the company wanted to subdivide the property into three smaller parcels, as well as add landscaped islands and pedestrian walkways to improve the concrete wasteland (my words) that much of the site resembles today. Currently, 2 percent of the site is green space; according to Kern, NLD would increase this to 12 percent.
NLD is in discussion with Aldi, which would use one of the subdivided lots for a new store. Hobby Lobby and Savers have long-term leases, and would remain where they are “for the foreseeable future.”
City planners are in the process of reviewing NLD’s site plan. It is possible that a staff recommendation could come before the Planning Commission as early as May.

NorShor math
On April 11, the city council at long last approved the mass of agreements necessary to get the NorShor Theatre project up and rolling. With the help of millions of dollars of tax credits, Sherman Associates will do the renovation and the Duluth Playhouse will manage the theater when the renovation is complete. The Playhouse is also putting their own money into the project. They have currently raised about $1 million, and the Duluth Economic Development Authority is giving them a $3.5 million loan, which they plan to pay off at a rate of $100,000 a year for seven years. At that time, they will take over ownership of the theater and, if necessary, take out a mortgage on the property to pay off the balance of what they owe DEDA.
Herb Minke, chairman of the Playhouse board, told city councilors that they intended to raise money by attaching a $2 “historic ticketing fee” to each ticket sold, which they expected to generate “well in excess of $100,000” annually. Dividing $100,000 by $2, we arrive at 50,000—the minimum number of tickets the Playhouse expects to sell each year. Dividing 50,000 by 52, we see that the Playhouse hopes to sell an average of 962 tickets per week. Is this realistic?
Minke seemed to think so. He said the Playhouse’s numbers were “conservative” and “based on current operations…with some increase for the increased number of seats that we’ll have” in the NorShor. The theater seats 650, so three shows that filled half the house would meet the weekly goal. Can the Playhouse do that every week? I have no idea.

NorShor tower
In the 1940s, the NorShor featured an iconic porcelain-sheathed 65-foot decorative tower mounted on the roof above the marquee, containing more than 3,000 light bulbs. The tower has been gone for decades, but in 2013, George Sherman said publicly that restoring the tower would be part of the renovation project, a promise that had many city residents jumping for joy.
The promise seems to have fallen by the wayside. The agreements approved by the city council do not include plans for a tower. In response to councilor questions, chief administrative officer Dave Montgomery said, “There have been extensive discussions among the team about wanting to do that in the future, but that’s going to have to wait [for] another day, and determination if there’s funding available. It is not a part of this particular plan at this point.”

Chester Park Monopine. Photo credit: John Ramos

Chester Park monopine
In 2014, the city tore down the aging ski jump in Chester Park. Sprint Communications, which had had a cell phone facility mounted on the ski jump, asked the city for permission to build a new monopole cell tower in the same area. The issue was somewhat controversial; some people objected to having cell towers in parks on general principles, and others worried about the tower’s visual impact. Eventually, the city agreed to allow Sprint to build its cell tower, with the understanding that Sprint would landscape the area and disguise the tower as a pine tree—a structure that is called a “monopine” in the industry.
On April 16, taking advantage of the beautiful day, I took a stroll through Chester Park with my kids to visit the monopine and see how things were working out.
From a distance, the monopine does look like a tree. Standing in the Chester Bowl parking lot looking up, you can tell no difference between the monopine and other trees. As you get closer, some geometrical non-tree-like objects become visible among the boughs, but if you didn’t know what you were looking for, your gaze would pass right over them.
Close up, of course, it’s obvious. The brown steel “trunk” of the monopine sticks straight up out of a utility shed enclosure—much too straight for nature. Looking up, one can see the metal construction of the “boughs.” The site around the utility shed itself, which used to be a torn-up mud pit, has been nicely landscaped and vegetated. In addition to the monopine, the city’s agreement with Sprint required Sprint to plant “38 native shrubs and 44 native trees” as part of their landscaping plan. Most of the plants seem to be in good shape, though a few are suffering.
All in all, the monopine is unique. Like the Peace Bell at Enger Park or Elephant Rock at Lincoln, to people of a certain mindset (like six-year-olds) the monopine might even become a sort of small destination in itself.