Readers and writers: Mysteries true and fictional, and a gourmet journey

Mary Ann Grossmann, Pioneer Press
·10 min read

Fictional and true-crime murders, past and present, and a journey into gourmet cooking come from three Minnesota authors who are reading this week.

“A Murder on the Hill: The secret life and mysterious death of Ruth Munson”: by Roger Barr (Minnesota Historical Society Press, $24.95)

Contrasts were starting to emerge in the information being compiled about Ruth Munson. Ruth visited the Ace accompanied only by her two girlfriends. They stood at the bar or sat together, ignoring men in the establishment, and danced only with each other. On occasion, Ruth had been escorted to the Friendship Club by men. At the Ace she was never intoxicated, but lately at the Friendship Club she had exhibited signs of drinking. What did these contrasts mean? Was Ruth content with her life? Who really knew her well? Did anyone? — from “A Murder on the Hill”

Ruth Munson’s death was a sensation that dominated the headlines of Twin Cities newspapers for months. The remains of the 31-year-old waitress at Union Depot was found by firefighters at 7 a.m. Dec. 9, 1937, as they put out a fire in the abandoned Aberdeen Hotel on Ramsey Hill near the southwest corner of Dayton Avenue and Virginia Street.

Not much was left of Munson’s charred body or her clothing, except a few pieces of underwear. Who was this woman from Grantsburg, Wis., who’d come to the big city of St. Paul? Barr, who lives in St. Paul, used Munson’s diary and letters, newspaper accounts, public documents and other primary sources to meticulously build the story of Munson set in the days just after Police Chief Clinton Hackert mostly cleaned up the corruption that permeated the department when gangsters were given protection in St. Paul earlier in the decade.

Despite a dozen police officers and detectives working on the case for almost two years, Munson’s murder was never solved. After interviewing dozens of her acquaintances, tracking down leads that led nowhere, the authorities were stymied because Ruth was an enigma who seemed to have a double life. She was often seen in the company of two women at dance halls and bars but co-workers, neighbors, men she dated and others agreed she never revealed anything about her private life. A key to unlocking the investigation would be the identity of her two friends, but despite a reward being offered, nobody came forward.

Running through the investigation was racism within the police department and St. Paul’s middle class. Ruth was known to drink with the porters at Union Depot and several were suspects. But nothing came of inquiries in the Rondo neighborhood of Black-owned homes and businesses, which had not yet been split in half by Interstate 94.

Barr’s book is also a mini-history of historic Ramsey Hill, which began as a wealthy neighborhood but had declined by the 1930s. The mansions had been carved up into small apartments for young working men and women, especially along and around Dayton Avenue where Ruth lived.

During the long investigation into Ruth’s murder, rumors swirled. She was working undercover on drugs with the federal government. She used drugs herself. She was a prostitute. She was killed “because she knew too much.” Ruth herself cryptically told a friend she would be “dead by Christmas.”

Munson’s murder also brought to light a hidden secret in St. Paul — the violation of women. It was not unusual for working women to wait for streetcars late at night and attempted robberies and molestations happened more often than authorities thought.

Barr, a writer and writing teacher, does an amazing job of researching, right down to street addresses of people brought in for questioning and the time of day He includes excerpts from interrogations and officers’ notes and puts readers into life in St. Paul during the Depression. .

Most interesting are the final chapters in which Barr speculates on why the Munson case was never solved, including her secret life, racism, missed opportunities by law enforcement and lack of contemporary scientific ways of working clues.

Barr is the author of 10 books, more than 30 published short stories, an award-winning play and newspaper and magazine articles. His series of stories about a St. Paul family at Christmas, which began in the Villager newspaper in 1998, moved to the Pioneer Press in 2022.

He will launch his book with a reading at 6 p.m. Thursday, April 4, at Next Chapter Booksellers, 38 S. Snelling Ave., St. Paul.

“Still Waters”: by Matt Goldman (Forge Books, $19.99)

Dear Liv and Gabe,

If you’re reading this email, I am dead. — from “Still Waters”

Liv and Gabe Ahlstrom are estranged siblings whose birthdays are so close together they’re called “Irish twins.” Liv is a rich, high-powered business owner in New York; Gabe is a bartender in California after his dream of being a musician faded. One day they both get a text from their older brother, Mack, telling them if they got the scheduled message, he is dead.

And he was. Although they haven’t seen Mack in a decade, Liv arranges a memorial service at the family-owned resort on Leech Lake in northern Minnesota. And that’s where this twisty tale of a broken family, murder and a long-lost love surface. Liv and Gabe reconnect with their uncle, who runs the resort, and his wife and their cousin, Winona, as well as Gabe’s childhood friend Andrew, whose mother is one greedy and ruthless woman. Although she is on oxygen and needs a walker with the help of her patient husband, Judy is buying property around the lake for her resorts. The siblings don’t know she is hatching a plan to take their land away from them. So is Winona, who wants to raze the place and build a power plant with wind turbines and solar panels.

Gabe and Liv renew their fondness for Ed, a mentally challenged man who has been at the resort since their childhood. When Ed helps brother and sister discover an old chest belonging to their mother, a trove of unsigned, undated love letters leads to a web of relationships nobody had suspected.

Goldman is a bestselling author and Emmy award-winning television writer for “Seinfeld,” “Ellen” and other shows. That explains the perfect pacing of this mystery. It’s a story that can truly be called a “page-turner.” Chapters end with a knock on a door, someone slipping away in the dark, a startling revelation. It might be 2 a.m. and you have to get up to go to work, but you just have to turn the page to see who’s there.

Inside the mystery is the relationship between Liv and Gabe, who sometimes argue and sometimes come together. Liv makes Gabe feel incompetent for being a bartender. He can’t forget how mean she was to him when they were growing up. Yet they communicate nonverbally as they face an enemy in a dark room. And at Liv’s urging Gabe finally gets the courage to tell his girlfriend he loves her and her little dog, which seems to be a pug. There are also two friendly golden retrievers, always a plus in books.

“Still Waters” is involving; the characters are real and emotions are an integral part of the story. And with his TV background it’s not surprising Goldman’s dialogue is spot-on.

Goldman will talk about his previous book, “Carolina Moon,” at 7 p.m. Monday, April 8, at St. Pascal Church’s Author’s Night but he will undoubtedly include “Still Waters” in his presentation. The program at 1757 Conway St., St. Paul, is free and open to the public. Reservations are requested at Signup Genius, or call 651-774-1585.

“Hot Dish Confidential: That Year My Friends Taught Me to Cook”: By George Sorensen (Flexible Press, $19)

At the dinners, the gourmet consensus was that native Minnesotans, including several who were present, are suspicious, fussy sorts, who prefer to be snowed in all the time. They are happiest when bombarded by harsh, stupefying weather that mercilessly thumps them and blows over trees. This was borne out by one native who said ‘When it’s really bad, I know things can only improve.’ Minnesota natives agreed totally, if not happily, with the outsiders’ observations about them. — from “Hot Dish Confidential.”

Are you longing for a recipe for Rattlesnake Sour Cream enchiladas? Look no further than George Sorensen’s sometimes-snarky memoir about his yearlong quest to learn to cook by watching his knowledgeable friends prepare sophisticated meals.

Sorensen, who lives in the Pacific Northwest, wrote marketing communications and documentation for 3M among other big companies. New products he helped launch were Post-It Notes. He also worked on the NASA Mars program.

A child of the time when TV dinners and sandwiches of processed cheese on white bread were staples, Sorensen’s quest for gastronomic learning led to his organizing monthly gourmet dinners at his Minneapolis bungalow. Themes ranged from the cuisine of other countries such as a Dickens Christmas feast to Texas chili. He had no trouble finding food-oriented folks to attend his dinners but there were growing pains. Who picks the correct wines? Should tunics be worn at a Greek-themed party?

Along with learning to cook, Sorensen found out a lot about the origins of foods. He learns about mushrooms (maybe too much for the reader) in the company of Minnesota/Wisconsin author Pete Hautman, discussing why Minnesota’s state mushroom — morels — is nearly mystical because so much of their growth depends upon the weather. His quest for a perfect dish of mashed potatoes leads him to the history of the tuber and his belief that the best mashed spuds are those with the skins on. For the New Orleans dinner he went on a research binge as he tried to learn the differences between Creole and Cajun cooking.

Sorensen doesn’t reveal when he moved to Minnesota, except to say it was “a long time ago.” Native Minnesotans might be slightly put off by his characterization of the state’s love of hotdishes and bars in the days before ethnic restaurants blossomed here:

“Nobody looked forward to eating bars or hot dishes, but as good Minnesotans, they were used to them. Neither of these staples had any particular flavor. Nothing distinguished one batch from another, but they invariably showed up at potlucks and parties and receptions because they didn’t offend anybody.”

Although most of Sorensen’s memories are of his gourmet dinners, he recounts his experiences abroad, including ordering a huge platter of expensive seafood at a Paris restaurant and shearing a sheep in New Zealand.

Sorensen does a delightful job painting word pictures of his friends. He describes Bjorn as thin, nervous, very outspoken and “his straight blond hair shook like a mop around the lunar shape of his face.” Another man reminds him of “an Amish rocket scientist.”

Then there was his mushroom-related encounter with John Cage, whom he was driving to a reception after the musician appeared at the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis:

“This avant-garde — step back, please, I’m making art — musician got away with artistic murder, I thought. Nobody really seemed to understand or enthusiastically enjoy his musical creations. Still, throngs came to his performances to be able to say they saw him and to see if he’d do anything outrageous.” (Cage redeemed himself in Sorensen’s eyes when he picked mushrooms off a lawn because he loved them.)

Although there were excellent dishes and some not-so-good ones at the gourmet dinners (Bavaria was particularly dull), recipes for the best dishes are at the end of each chapter, including Crocus Hill Stuffed Mushrooms Baked in Cream, Jay’s Wild Rice Clam Chowder and Don’t-Mince-Words Jambalaya.

Sorensen, who finds romance amidst jam near the end of the book, will host a launch party at 7 p.m. Tuesday, April 2, at Broken Clock Brewing Cooperative, 1712 Marshall St. N.E., Mpls. He’ll sign books at 1 p.m. Monday, April 1, at Boreal Gifts and Goods, 2276 Como Ave., St. Paul, and read at 6:30 p.m. Wednesday, April 3, at Comma, A Bookshop, 4250 Upton Ave. S., Mpls.

(Note to the author from a lifelong daughter of Minnesota: You will have to pry those lemon bars out of our cold, dead hands.)

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