When I was little, growing up in New Brighton Minnesota, a St. Paul suburb my parents still live in, there was this great little mall just off of Silver Lake Road in the adjacent neighborhood called St. Anthony. The mall was called Apache Plaza and it was fabulous! It was a small mall, not like those huge crazy ones today, there was nothing cookie cutter about this mall. It was all one level and you could literally walk the perimeter of it in say seven minutes, maybe five? That, of course, is without stopping to shop.
Stores that were housed here included my favorite, Marco Polo Imports, a tiny shop in the middle of the mall that had tons of crazy, weird jewelry and gifts; Jolly's Hobby Shop, my bro's fav place; The Beauty Center where Linda cut my Dad's hair; a tiny JC Penny with the Pixie Studio where my aunt worked and took all of our childhood photos; Two Plus Two; Minnesota Fabrics; Braun’s' Fashions; Woolworth’s; The Little Professor Book Store; the secretive Scarpellie’s Restaurant; and, the oh so seedy Apache Wells where those that took to the ‘Devil's Brew’ often could be found...if I wasn’t seven at the time I most frequented the Plaza, you would have found me at the Wells.
In the basement of the mall was Queen's Court dance studio, where I flubbed up taking ballet and tap and my bro successfully took break dancing; a tanning studio; and a weird Weight Watcher's Center. There was also a bowling alley where my parents played in a league every Wednesday night. While my parents competed on the lanes, my brother and I roamed around playing video games with the other kids, chomped on fries and candy at the refreshment counter, and often bought the oddities of the establishment's weirdest vending machine. This machine dispensed anything and everything from tweezers and a mini sewing kit to packs of Beemans and a single serving of Bazooka Joes, but my most favorite thing we ever bought from this machine was the miniature smoking monkey. This special little monkey came with miniature ‘cigarettes’ and real matches. So, there we were, about eight of us 7 to 10 year-old kids lighting the matches up to the monkey’s tiny cigarette resting in his mouth. Once lit we watched in absolute glory as the monkey puffed and puffed his little cigarette away.Okay, I'm a little off track in reminiscing about this mall, and from the title of this post, I guess we all know that Apache Plaza will win the showdown of St. Anthony consumer stores hands down, and how could it not!!?? The place had smoking monkeys! And let's not forget the mall’s wonderful events and entertainment features. There was a fountain in the middle for penny wishing; an actual huge toy train that took the kiddies around the whole mall for fun, special dress-up days like Pajama day and, of course, Halloween, and on certain nights—usually a weekend—crazy Midnight Madness sales!
Over time though, like all good things, Apache was coming to a sad end… the mall deteriorated and faced challenges, such as being hit hard by a tornado in the late 80s. Soon the only stores left at the mall included a Hallmark shop and Anderson’s Furniture. However the space persevered and became a hot spot for craft fairs and Flea markets, and if only in small spurts, the mall came back to life again.
In 2004 it was the end of the end as the building was demolished to make way for a new, flashier consumer haven, the ever popular fancy suburban strip mall complete with a Cold Stone Creamery (sugary yuk); Caribou/Starbucks, whichever chain that drove a nearby mom & pop coffee shop out of business; of course Chipolte, some Noodle chain, etc. You get the point. And of course, there was the Walmart headlining the demolition. And that brings me full circle to that traumatic experience that just happened a few days ago at the Walmart.
I am perusing the ginormous aisles looking at the craft goods, frozen foods selections, and eyeing the limited edition of the Sex & The City Movie, all the while listening to the wails of a screaming child. In the back of my head I am thinking about Apache, as that ghostly mall haunts my thoughts every time I come home. The screams seem to be getting louder. As I turn the aisle I see the small child that is making these horrific noises, a little boy, about four-years-old and in absolute agony about something that happened upon him in his early life. Just above him I see his mother, standing where I can only guess is where I purchased my first pair of ‘dangly’ earrings—hot pink, lace entwined hearts—and she bends down, looks at her crying child and says, "shut the fuck up."
I left immediately. No one and I mean NO ONE, from the Apache Easter Bunny to the owner of the mall's local, crazy card shop Expressions, would have ever said the "F" word in Apache Plaza.
Hands down, Apache Plaza so wins the St. Anthony consumer hot spots showdown.
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In remembering Apache Plaza Mall I came across this great site that I completely recommend for others wanting to relive the memories of this wonderful mall, the Apache Plaza Tribute Site; http://apacheplaza.com/apachepage1.html
Interestingly, and way off subject, but surely interesting to any fans of Lost, the logo for Apache Plaza so reminds me of the Dharma Initiative.
Namaste
