Minneapolis Newspaper Index at University of MN now online

hclib:

Digitized Index Cards to Minneapolis Newspapers

Van Houlson, Journalism Librarian, University of Minnesota Libraries

For many years, the index cards to the Minneapolis Star and the Minneapolis Tribune at the Wilson Library on the University of Minnesota campus gave researchers a unique tool for locating articles on local people and events. This index was recently scanned by the Digital Collections unit at the University of Minnesota Libraries and is now available for searching as a public access website called the Minneapolis Newspaper Index (https://www.lib.umn.edu/newspapers).

Use this search engine to find articles from the Minnesota Daily (1900-1922, 1963-1977), Minneapolis Tribune (1940-1945,1950-1954) and the Minneapolis Star (1964-1970). Search for keywords found in the headlines of articles or among the subject headings used to organize the card file. This is a fascinating resource for anyone interested in Minneapolis history and will also display the actual image of the original card, revealing the work of dedicated library staff over decades as they added citations about local people, architecture, events and other developments. The Minneapolis Newspaper Index opens up new possibilities for researching local Minnesota history in the 20th century that is currently not possible using any existing newspaper content in print, microfilm, or online.

I can personally vouch for Van’s commitment to thinking creatively about ways these types of valuable resources can be preserved.

Digitization is changing historical research in profound and important ways (some potentially good, others potentially bad) but it is thrilling to see the University of Minnesota Libraries carry on a long commitment to preserving newspapers as a key part of the historical record.

Editor & Publisher, July 29, 1905.
Minneapolis: “enterprise, progress and life.”

Editor & Publisher, July 29, 1905.

Minneapolis: “enterprise, progress and life.”

"Ride hard. Don't be a dick."

Video, Stupor Bowl XIV, 2011.

Looks like a bit less snow this year.

Advertisement, Printer’s Ink, June 24, 1903.
Printer’s Ink was a bi-weekly trade magazine for the publishing industry that ran from 1888 to 1967.
The Minneapolis Journal ran from 1888 to 1939, when it was purchased by, and merged with, the Minneapolis Star.

Advertisement, Printer’s Ink, June 24, 1903.

Printer’s Ink was a bi-weekly trade magazine for the publishing industry that ran from 1888 to 1967.

The Minneapolis Journal ran from 1888 to 1939, when it was purchased by, and merged with, the Minneapolis Star.

bennettgordon:

todaysdocument:

Cranks, Crack-pots, and Martians
On October 30, 1938, the Columbia Broadcasting System (CBS) broadcast an adaptation of The War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells. The hour-long radio program began with an announcer  introducing a musical performance and moments later interrupting with a  special news bulletin describing the landing of Martians in New Jersey  and their subsequent attacks with death rays. Although CBS made four  announcements during the broadcast identifying it as a dramatic  performance, millions of Americans who heard it were scared into some  sort of action, many wrote letters. The newly created Federal  Communications Commission received more than 600 letters about the  broadcast, including the one featured here.

I love the underlining. I did not jump out of the window.

The War of the Worlds “panic” is one of several media myths that media historian W. Joseph Campbell has sought to debunk. He says that one reason the War of the Worlds panic story is so persistent is that the tale is “almost too good, too delicious not to be true.”

Moreover, the “panic broadcast” myth endures because it evokes the  latent power of media content:  Media messages have the potential to  produce effects that are unpredictable, wide-ranging, and even  dangerous.
The myth also lives on because it offers implicit reassurance for  contemporary media audiences: It reminds and reassures them of their  comparative sophistication. Back then, back in the 1930s, media audiences were pretty gullible, as the panicked reactions to The War of the Worlds suggest. But that’s not so much the case today, this line of thinking goes (which overlooks such recent stunts as the Colorado balloon boy and the TV report of the breakup of Belgium).

The story also fed the growing legend of wunderkind Orson Welles, and Welles himself wasn’t shy about helping it along. In an interview later on in his career with biographer Peter Bogdanovich, Welles described the response to his broadcast thusly:

“Houses were emptying, churches were filling up; from Nashville to  Minneapolis, there was wailing in the street and the rending of  garments.”

bennettgordon:

todaysdocument:

Cranks, Crack-pots, and Martians

On October 30, 1938, the Columbia Broadcasting System (CBS) broadcast an adaptation of The War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells. The hour-long radio program began with an announcer introducing a musical performance and moments later interrupting with a special news bulletin describing the landing of Martians in New Jersey and their subsequent attacks with death rays. Although CBS made four announcements during the broadcast identifying it as a dramatic performance, millions of Americans who heard it were scared into some sort of action, many wrote letters. The newly created Federal Communications Commission received more than 600 letters about the broadcast, including the one featured here.

I love the underlining. I did not jump out of the window.

The War of the Worlds “panic” is one of several media myths that media historian W. Joseph Campbell has sought to debunk. He says that one reason the War of the Worlds panic story is so persistent is that the tale is “almost too good, too delicious not to be true.”

Moreover, the “panic broadcast” myth endures because it evokes the latent power of media content:  Media messages have the potential to produce effects that are unpredictable, wide-ranging, and even dangerous.

The myth also lives on because it offers implicit reassurance for contemporary media audiences: It reminds and reassures them of their comparative sophistication. Back then, back in the 1930s, media audiences were pretty gullible, as the panicked reactions to The War of the Worlds suggest. But that’s not so much the case today, this line of thinking goes (which overlooks such recent stunts as the Colorado balloon boy and the TV report of the breakup of Belgium).

The story also fed the growing legend of wunderkind Orson Welles, and Welles himself wasn’t shy about helping it along. In an interview later on in his career with biographer Peter Bogdanovich, Welles described the response to his broadcast thusly:

“Houses were emptying, churches were filling up; from Nashville to Minneapolis, there was wailing in the street and the rending of garments.”

Hey, what's up Pioneer Press? Oh, you published a story about how there are a bunch of sex assault allegations on the U campus but no prosecutions and then framed it as a story about how the bros are doing better than they were?

fightwithknives:

Why isn’t the stuff about the Aurora Center and the assaults in the lead? Why are there no women quoted in this story? Why did only two frat chapters return the pledge to decrease assault? Why is all the focus on decreasing drinking and not eliminating sexual assault, which is the problem? Why are their grades even in the story?

Because Deborah’s criticism is spot on and I would like as many people to see it as possible.