Google “freckles contest” and you’ll find that complexion-related competitions haven’t faded from the festival landscape more than a half-century after this cautionary tale appeared in the Minneapolis Star. The young contestant, James Busterud, survived the ordeal and eventually settled in Merrill, Wis. An update follows the original story.

Freckle Contest
Training Has
Consequences

It’ll take more than a touch of sun-stroke to keep 12-year-old James Busterud, 247 SE. Bedford street, out of the running for the title of St. Frances Cabrini parish freckle king.

Playmates had to haul the youngster out of the glaring sun and apply cold packs to bring him to, after an overdose of sun while he was “training” for the contest to be held as a feature of the parish lawn social Sunday from 2 to 9 p.m.

But after some parental discipline, Jimmy went back in more restricted training again, with his sister, Sally – who can count even more freckles than Jimmy – in the race for freckles queen.

Governor and Mrs. Youngdahl and the Rev. Francis Burns, pastor of St. Clement’s church, have been selected as judges of the freckles contest, the Rev. Henry Sledz, pastor, said.

The St. Lawrence band will provide music at the festival on the church grounds, 1501 Franklin avenue SE. Ed Cirkl and Mrs. Katherine Priebe are co-chairmen.

St. Frances Cabrini Church, site of the freckles contest, was founded in 1946. Here’s what it looked like in September 1948. (Photo courtesy mnhs.org)

AUGUST 2008 UPDATE: James Busterud, now 70, is a retired restaurateur in Merrill, Wis. He and his wife, Angie, ran a supper club there called South of the Border. He has two sons. His wife died earlier this year.

I asked him how he ended up out in the sun that day in 1951. He said he was planning to enter the freckles contest against three other boys and had heard that extended exposure to the sun would give him an advantage. He really was working on his freckles, then? “Yes,” he said with a laugh, “that was a long time ago.”

How did he do in the contest? “I finished second,” he recalled instantly. “My sister won the girls’.”

Day in, day out, the Minneapolis Star of 1939 was packed with ads touting a variety of entertainment options, stretching from Lake Minnetonka to the St. Paul border. Which one catches your interest here? How about listening to Rudy Vallee at the Orpheum? Dancing till 1:45 a.m. at the Marigold Ballroom? Or watching Barbara Stanwyck in “Union Pacific” at the Avalon?

I’m partial to Excelsior Park. As kids, we got free rides there based on the number of A’s, B’s and C’s on our report cards. Yes, back in 1967, before grade inflation, a C actually meant something — about a third of a spin on the merry-go-round, as I recall.

Excelsior Park (1925-1969) had it all: Rides, speedboats, amusements, death-defying acts — and fresh walleyed pike at the Blue Line Cafe.

This ad for the Walker-Ankeny auto dealership in Wayzata introduces Minneapolis Star readers to the BMW brand with an unusual pitch: Our car is better than a VW – but not quite as good as a Mercedes. Oddly, there’s no mention of the blurry swimsuit model included with every sale.

Maybe the Big Three automakers could revive this pitch.