The Social Scene

the place to be

Dwight Woodbury was a social person involved in politics and several businesses in the area. People said that because of his influence, the railroad track was laid north of Anoka’s downtown rather than directly through it. In 1863, Dwight was elected to the Minnesota State House of Representatives, and his Anoka home soon became the scene of many social and political gatherings. Mary later wrote about the people she saw visiting:

…The throng of guests passing through our home on the Rum River was decidedly interesting. I cannot remember Governor Ramsey, though he had visited my father often, nor Governor Miller, but he was at the house when I was a baby, and mother saved an old card photograph with ‘To little Miss Woodbury, from her friend and wellwisher, Stephen Miller’ written by him on the back. Of all the birds of passage that I do remember alighting at our door, I was the most impressed, as a child, with Bishop Whipple…Ignatius Donnelly was perhaps the wittiest and most brilliant guest we had, and while we children probably did not at the time appreciate his ability, we certainly did his cheerfulness and hilarity, and there was less trouble than usual in inducing us to wash and put on clean clothes when we were told that he would be with us. William Windom, W.D. Washburn, and lesser politicians came and went, and when we were older and could better understand and appreciate him, the gifted Cushman K. Davis fascinated us with his gift of conversation.

Mary remembered being sent by her mother to get provisions for some of these guests:

..Meat markets were not plentiful, and many times when unexpected guests arrived, my mother would come to where John and I were playing with, ‘Children, please harness old Turk and go up to Ramsey and get some prairie chickens for supper.’ I do not remember that we ever failed to return with the required provisions.

Mary and her brother used a double-barreled, muzzle-loading, 20 gauge shotgun to do their hunting for those unexpected guests at the table. She said her father carried hospitality almost to a “mania,” and it was a rare occasion when no guests were at the table. Mary also noted that her mother never complained about all the extra visitors, and it seemed that a variety of people around the dinner table was perfectly normal.

Mid-Century Modern

The Johnstons came to the house in the late 1950s, when entertaining with lavish dinner parties, bridge clubs, and cocktail parties was the height of social elegance, and it was perfect for Fern. She loved to entertain. She was born in 1916 and grew up with the proper manners and formal dinner service left over from the earlier eras. Barb remembered vividly the Christmas of 1970 when her parents held a Christmas open house. There was a long guest list, car parkers in the yard, mountains of delectable foods, and formal wear for her and her mother as the hostesses.

Holidays were always special with the Johnstons and a great excuse to entertain. Barb told the story of one favorite Christmas tradition:

We had relatives and guests on Christmas each year. Because of our Swedish heritage, Christmas Eve was always celebrated with Dopp i Grytan (dip-in-the-kettle), a meal to remember the poverty of our ancestors. In short, a broth was served in a large pot in the middle of the table, and slices of rye bread were floated in the broth just long enough to soak up some of the broth. This was supposed to be the sole sustenance on a day of fasting before the feast of Christmas Day. Of course, it was ceremonial only, and no one left the table hungry!    

Christmas was special, but in Anoka, Halloween is famous. Barb was sure a children’s Halloween party her parents held one year left an impression on her friends that was not easily forgotten:

I was allowed to invite some school friends over to celebrate this famous Anoka holiday. In my young mind, I was expecting the conventional kids’ festivities: games, candy, and then probably some more candy. My folks, instead, constructed a Spook House in the old Bomb Shelter. (This was the Cold War era name for the concrete-lined cube built into the riverbank. I suspect the 1939 tornado had more to do with its construction than did “Duck and Cover,” but that’s what we called it.) I sure wish I precisely recalled the story they concocted – it involved the “ghosts” of the prior residents coming back to visit, including Mary Woodbury as a young girl - and we all believed it, hook, line and sinker. Somehow, each kid was convinced that he/she had to be blindfolded, and led in the dark down to the dank cavern. Once there, each found amazing Halloween experiences - hands plunged into cold spaghetti noodle “brains,” egg-white covered grape “eyeballs,” and more! You get the picture. It would not surprise me to learn that some of my guests now recall this as a most terrifying night of their childhoods. Well, we never did have many Trick-or-Treaters. It was a long, scary walk up to the front door.     

The local elite

The house continued to be the center of many gatherings as the Weavers loved to entertain, too. John especially liked to have breakfasts for people; breakfast meetings or various committees he served on were often held at the house, starting promptly at 7:29 a.m. John liked to set his start times for meetings and events at odd times, believing people would remember the time easier if it was unusual. Breakfast was Jill’s least favorite meal of the day, but she was always there, ready to serve their guests at 7:29 am and always with a smile.

Besides family reunions, many organizations were guests at the house during the Weaver years, including the Kiwanis Club, Boy Scouts, class reunions, the Historical Society, and even some political events. While not done with historical intent, the political meetings repeated history, as John served in the Minnesota House of Representatives just as Dwight Woodbury before him.

The Weavers issued many invitations to visit the Woodbury house. Martha remembers an invitation she offered:

I will never forget when the tall man with the red suspenders paid us a surprise visit. Garrison Keillor was in town giving a speech at Greenhaven about a recently released book. As I listened in the audience, Mr. Keillor made mention of his ties to Anoka, and specifically referenced an Anoka relative who built the low stone wall that surrounds the Woodbury House. After his speech, I approached Mr. Keillor and said my family lived in the house if he’d like to see it. Mr. Keillor replied offhandedly, “I might like that.” I responded with feigned casualness, “Great, we’re around all evening.” Considering his noncommittal response, I thought nothing of it. So, later that night as my parents and I were preparing to go to bed, I was wary when a small car started pulling up the big loop driveway. It was so small that it shocked me when long legs suddenly unfolded from within. As I ran toward the door, I quickly shouted to my parents the invitation I’d extended and that Garrison Keillor was, in fact, about to be on our doorstep. They quickly recovered and Mr. Keillor was a terrific guest, sitting on the kitchen countertop while we swapped old Anoka stories. It was truly a night to remember.

The family was significant to the Weavers, and gatherings in the house could be quite the production. One Christmas, the Weavers had EVERYONE over for the holiday. With all the extended relatives in a big family, 59 people managed to fit inside the house that day.

“Everybody brought something and we just wandered around,” said Jill “It was great. Well, there were those little boys who delighted in going up to the balcony that overlooked the library and dropping bits of things on unsuspecting heads below.”