Like it Used to Be

A picture of Broadway Street in Gilbert from 1910 looks surprisingly similar to one taken yesterday. Sure, there are now streetlights and pavement and tall trees, but the strip is still lined with old-fashioned, flat-roofed buildings, none more than a couple of stories high. While nearby Ely, in catering to canoeists and nostalgia seekers, has come to resemble the “Minnesot-ah!” store at the Mall of America, tiny Gilbert stubbornly remains the real deal.

Founded as a village in 1896, Gilbert was originally and optimistically named Sparta. It was also located on another spot. But when iron ore was discovered there, the townspeople had to move, buildings and all. With the new location came the new name. In the early 1900s, it was thought that Gilbert would become huge, bigger than Hibbing, even—thus its early nickname, the “Village of Destiny.” The town built a wide, wooden main street, now Broadway, which was part of a twenty-eight-mile boardwalk connecting a string of Mesabi Range towns. Gilbert was also the eastern terminus of the Mesabi Electric Railway, a streetcar line that went to Hibbing.

Gilbert never did become the jewel of the Range, but its streets continue to be lively and well-kept, its storefronts occupied. At one end of Broadway sits the Iron Range Historical Society, a low brick building that used to be the city hall/police station/jail. There, the curious can view artifacts from Will Steger’s North Pole expedition, jail cells straight out of Mayberry R.F.D., and an impressive mining exhibit. Food options include Koshar’s Sausage Kitchen, specializing in wild game dressing and hand-crafted ethnic sausages (including potato and blood versions), and the Memory Lane Café, which serves hearty breakfasts and homemade soups and pies, the blueberry being especially scrumptious. Gilbert’s best restaurant is also its most unlikely, a Jamaican joint called the Whistling Bird. It draws so many customers from nearby towns that a person is lucky to get a table on a Saturday night.

When Gilbert incorporated, the first act of its village council was to grant a liquor license. Today, the town still has just two churches but nine bars, all on Broadway. Nick’s is one of the best. Owner Nick Vukelich is an old-timer with a lazy eye, a fever for sailing ships, and a deep love of polka. Representative of his cheeky sense of humor, the sign in the front window reads, “Sorry, we’re open.” About the only thing missing in Gilbert is a place to stay. For that, travelers must drive four miles to Eveleth, where the tidy Koke’s Motel awaits. It gets enthusiastic recommendations from the patrons at Nick’s. That’s the neighborly way things work on the Range. —Jennifer Vogel