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Esko's Corner, an Illustrated History of Esko and Thomson Township
Esko's Corner
Esko, Minnesota’s first store opened the day after Christmas, 1919, near the corner of the highway to the Twin Cities (now called Thomson Road) and Scanlon Road. It became known as Esko’s Corner because the store was owned by Alex Esko and run by his son, Fritz.
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Esko's Corner, an Illustrated History of Esko and Thomson Township
Esko's Corner
Who could bring out all of Esko in 1961? A visit from Finnish President Urho Kekkonen (in glasses, left front).
Esko, for the uninitiated, is a once-predominantly Finnish community just off Interstate 35, about 10 miles and 14 saunas southwest of Duluth.
It is my hometown. From my immigrant grandparents through my own grandchildren, five generations of my family have lived here. And by “here,” I mean Thomson Township, the greater area for which Esko, unincorporated, is the business center.
This is a place that’s hard to leave. I tried for 10 years after high school, but returned when my father died and now am here, as they said in World War II, “for the duration.” People ask if I’ve lived here all my life, and my stock answer: “Not yet … not yet!”
One thing for sure, though – Esko is no longer the rustic little burg where I grew up, a place that had more cows than people and where you had to know Finnish to work at the Esko’s Corner Co-op (as did my late wife, Karen, when we were in high school).
It is still essentially rural (or as John Gilbert, the Duluth radio show host, once said, “rural Esko is a redundancy”), but now it sports all the trappings of a modern suburb. The barns and cow paths have been replaced by subdivisions with cul-de-sacs and the old Co-op is a pizza joint. And you can only order in English.
Through it all, Esko has stayed dear to the hearts of residents, past and present. And, as in its earlier days, it’s known for excellent schools, strong sports teams and unremitting community pride. Some say we’re full of it … pride, that is.
We’re also full of stories – many of which happen to be true – and thus, in early 2008, a dozen of us got together with the blessings of the Esko Historical Society and set out to compile a local history.
“Shouldn’t take more than two years, max,” I told Ken Nynas, the historical society president. Our first brochures and our newly created website assured the citizenry that we’d have a book out in time for Christmas of 2010.
We expected to produce a 200-page history with about 40 black-and-white photos, so we set a fundraising target of $20,000, a reasonable goal, I thought, for a community of 5,000 souls plus change. But we missed the mark; donations exceeded $35,000. Community pride, indeed.
Put another way, we were hoping for a nice sunfish and we landed a muskie. We now had the means to publish a book far beyond the quality and size we first envisioned. We could expand the scope, add color and eventually hire Duluth-based professionals for the design, proofreading and indexing.
We met every other Wednesday at the town hall to tackle subjects as diverse as early farming methods, old swimming holes and new music in the schools. We learned things that some of us didn’t know, like why the Finns came here in the first place (times were really tough in the Old Country), how they adapted (or didn’t) and that the area’s first industry was slate mining, not logging. We were left to wonder about the local farmer who took a walk through the woods to visit his neighbors – and was never seen again.
More than 100 old-timers patiently endured recorded interviews, imparting new insights into the impact of the horrific 1918 Fire and its aftermath when nearly half the township was laid waste. Other townsfolk scoured their attics, basements and memories for family stories, photos, journals and scrapbooks, from which we learned the notorious John Dillinger, evading a national manhunt, stopped here to have his car repaired at a local garage.
Sometimes we struck out. After Jan Puline fruitlessly searched for information about London Town, a tiny St. Louis River settlement swallowed by the new Thomson Dam reservoir in 1905, she was thrilled to find a photo labeled “London Town” in the Minnesota Historical Society’s online archives. She placed an order, paid the fee … and got a photo of the placid waters of the Thomson Dam reservoir.
Most of our committee lived in Esko, but two of our primary writers moved away a half-century ago. Their hearts are still here, though, so Robert D. Esko, grandson of the community’s namesake, logged 30,030 miles for his twice-monthly trips from South St. Paul, and Rodney Ikola faithfully drove down from Hibbing.
We routinely blew all of our self-imposed deadlines. By Year Four, I could hardly attend a ball game, pick up a few groceries or go to the feed store without someone inquiring, “When’s that book coming out?” One sweet, elderly woman with a Finnish accent would often ask, “How’s tat pook club?”
Esko's Corner
In Year Five, I got to wondering, “What percentage of the rest of our lives are we donating to this project?” Most of us were born in the 1930s and ’40s; it wasn’t an idle question. Sadly, two of our key advisers and contributors, Arvid Konu and Clifford Johnson, did die before the book was printed.
Finally, in January 2014 – nearly six years, 73 written stories and 387 pages of hardcover book later – we took possession of Esko’s Corner, An Illustrated History of Esko and Thomson Township. We gratefully remembered Arvid and Clifford, but we felt surges of joy and relief. And, yes, Esko Pride.
For some of us, the final years of production were a blur. I got into a little trouble with my bride, Stacey, when she overheard me saying, “You mean I got remarried two years ago? I really should get to know that woman …” But she forgave me and, in fact, wrote a lovely piece for the book and served as my personal editor.
Two years have passed, and we continue to get gratifying comments from readers, some in Finland – not surprising in view of the many stories with Finnish themes.
My favorite comment, though, was by a lifetime local, Kay (Juntunen) Perttula. Calling the book “a beautiful gift to the community,” Kay added, “It feeds the intellect and the soul.”
At last count, more than 2,000 copies had been sold via special events, mail and phone orders or were on consignment with 30 vendors, including a half-dozen in Duluth.
Our success has spawned inquiries from other Lake Superior area communities contemplating a local history, and my advice (now that the scars have healed) has been this:
Go for it. But do it now, before the stories (and those who can tell them) fade away.
Davis Helberg, editor of Esko’s Corner, spent 45 years in the Great Lakes shipping industry, including 24 as the Duluth port director (1979-2003). He was a Duluth News Tribune reporter in the 1960s and has written for many publications, including many times for this one. He and Stacey reside in his family home with a dog and two cats.