In August of 1925, St. Paul orchestrated what was then deemed its most monumental public gathering, all to commemorate the grand inauguration of Highland Park. This event, often dubbed a “monster picnic,” drew an unprecedented record crowd, underscoring its significant place in St. Paul history and civic ambition.
The seven-hour extravaganza was meticulously designed to captivate and convince, boasting an array of free amenities including abundant barbecue and lively band concerts. Amidst speeches from local officials lauding the potential of the city’s newest green space, the celebration’s sheer magnetic appeal was evident; it attracted more attendees than the opening day of the Minnesota State Fair held just a month later, solidifying its legendary status as a vibrant community celebration.
Despite its eventual acclaim as a jewel in St. Paul’s extensive park system, Highland Park’s inception was far from universally celebrated. In 1925, it was merely 244 acres of largely swampy, undeveloped land located over three miles from the bustling city center. Many St. Paulites initially questioned the value of such a remote acquisition, compelling park advocates to stage this lavish public affair, hoping to sway skeptics and highlight the future prospects of this ambitious urban development project.
The broader philosophy of urban parks was also undergoing a transformation during this era. While traditionally viewed as serene oases offering respite from urban noise and pollution, parks were increasingly recognized by city officials and residents alike as crucial venues for “active, organized recreation.” This evolving perspective influenced the design and vision for new public spaces, setting a precedent for parks to serve multifaceted community needs.
Highland Park was conceptualized with this shift towards active recreation firmly in mind from its very outset. Beyond mere aesthetic appeal, the park was slated to feature an impressive array of facilities, including golf courses, tennis courts, and baseball fields. Future plans even encompassed a swimming pool, a dedicated football stadium, and a toboggan slide, marking it as a beacon of modern civic planning aimed at fostering public health and leisure.
However, the burgeoning price tag associated with acquiring and developing this expansive new park ignited considerable public debate. Parks commissioner Herman Wenzel’s proposal to fund the project through a sprawling assessment district, taxing property owners across a wide swathe of the city, met with fervent opposition from taxpayers. The intensity of this resistance was palpable, with reports even suggesting threats made against Wenzel’s family, reflecting the contentious nature of this 1925 event.
The August 9th party was strategically billed as a prime opportunity for skeptical St. Paulites to visually grasp the substantial investment they were being asked to make. The day was packed with competitive sporting events, ranging from whimsical sack races and intense tug-of-war contests to spirited horseshoe games and kittenball matches. Despite an unnerving moment when a motorcycle veered into the crowd during a hill climb, causing a brief panic, the event largely succeeded in showcasing the park’s potential as a vital communal hub.
While the “monster picnic” undoubtedly softened the stance of some Highland Park skeptics, it certainly did not convert everyone. When the city council convened in October to vote on Wenzel’s substantial $452,000 assessment proposal, hundreds of taxpayers converged, prepared to voice their arguments both for and against the controversial initiative, ensuring the debate continued long after the celebratory dust settled.
