Louise Rainville was a quiet community crusader

If not for Louise Rainville — and others like her — Northeast Minneapolis would be cut in two. Same with the North Loop. A freeway would split both neighborhoods. The townhouses on Third Avenue NE would not exist. There’d be no Boom Island Park.

She was born Aug. 29, 1933, to Antonio (Tony) and Mary Jablonowski (later shortened to Jablonski), Polish immigrants who came to the U.S. as babies. They were part of a small Polish enclave within the largely-Italian Beltrami neighborhood. During World War II, Tony worked as a machinist at what was known as Northern Pump in Fridley, making munitions for the U.S. Navy.

One of six children, Louise grew up at 630 Van Buren St. NE, in a two-story house much like others in  the area. She attended the original Webster Elementary School at Monroe and Summer streets.

When she was in ninth grade at Sheridan, she met Patrick Rainville and they started dating. “They were childhood sweethearts,” said their son, Third Ward Council Member Michael Rainville. 

They took different paths in high school. Patrick went to Edison, and played in several sports. Louise attended Vocational High School, 330 S. 12th St., now slated to become the new headquarters of the Minneapolis Police Department’s First Precinct. Louise studied cosmetology and by age 16 was working part time as a hairdresser.

She and Patrick continued to date through high school and became engaged during their senior year. “I’ve heard that doesn’t happen anymore,” joked Rainville. 

They were married in 1952 at Our Lady of Lourdes Church. Like many Polish weddings, it was a huge affair. “Back then,” said Rainville, “receptions were held at the PNA Hall, but theirs was different. It was held downtown at the Andrews Hotel on the corner of 4th and Hennepin because my grandfather was a small businessman [Noble Rainville Sr., one of the owners of the Rainville Brothers Funeral Chapel at 222 E. Hennepin, now the home of All Saints restaurant] and my father the last one to be married. It was really unheard of.”

Within a year, the newlyweds had started their family with Michael. He was followed by Thomas and Patrick Jr. A daughter died soon after birth. “Later in life, she often wondered what it would have been like to raise a girl,” Rainville said.

Like many women in the 1960s, Louise stayed home and took care of the kids while Patrick worked. On occasion, she’d put her hairdressing skills to work at the funeral home, arranging the coiffures of the deceased and earning some pocket money.

It was a time when doctors and dentists had their offices downtown. Louise, who never learned to drive, would take the boys downtown on the bus. “If we were good, we got to eat at the Forum Cafeteria,” Rainville recalled “If we misbehaved, we got a 15-cent hotdog at Kresge’s.” He said he credits his love of downtown Minneapolis to these trips.

Community was important to Louise, and she was involved in her kids’ school programs at St. Anthony of Padua and DeLaSalle High School, helping to raise money for the schools’ booster programs. Patrick was civic-minded, too, and he volunteered with many organizations. It was only natural, then, that they became involved when the federal government wanted to build a freeway to connect I-35 and I-94 west of downtown and run it through the heart of the St. Anthony East and West neighborhoods. 

The interstate highway system was established in the 1950s by President Dwight D. Eisenhower, partly as a speedy way to move the military across the country in case of war, and partly to boost commerce. 

In 1969, the federal government was poised to build I-335. The Minneapolis City Council gave the project its stamp of approval in 1970. House after house in the project area was purchased and torn down to make way for the new road. “The houses that were there were the last in the whole city to get indoor plumbing,” said Rainville. Owners had resisted paying sewer assessments, saying they cost too much money.

As the land was cleared, neighbors became alarmed. The St. Anthony West Neighborhood Organization (STAWNO) was formed, with Louise and Patrick among the charter members. It wasn’t long before they joined forces with the St. Anthony East Neighborhood Association (SAENA) to create the I-335 Concerned Citizens Committee, with Jeanette May and Mary Jane Partyka leading the charge. It was an uphill battle. 

With Patrick acting as the more public face of the couple, Louise worked behind the scenes, holding meetings and organizing letter-writing campaigns to state and federal officials. “She would host meetings at our kitchen table,” said Rainville. “I was a teenager and I’d listen to these meetings. I thought, ‘These people are crazy. They’re wasting their time. The federal government’s gonna do what it wants to do.’ That was the future in the late ’60s — big cars and freeways.”

The letter campaign enlisted the help of then-Senator Walter Mondale and Representative Don Fraser to block congressional spending on the project. 

Although one woman was arrested for disrupting Minneapolis City Council meetings, the opposition to I-335 was done “the Northeast way,” Rainville said. “There was some screaming and yelling, but there was more friendliness. ‘Hey, this is our quality of life. We deserve better than to have our neighborhood cut off by a freeway.’”

Construction was halted. It was a narrow miss. “To this day, right before you get to the East Hennepin exit on I-35, you can see there was an exit ramp there already sculpted,” said Rainville.

A delegation of Northeast residents went to a federal conference about what to do with land that was supposed to be used for freeways. The delegates decided they wanted new housing in the area, and parks. When the U.S. Dept. of Transportation gave up on the freeway in 1978, residents formed a new committee to guide reconstruction of the neighborhood. The townhouses along Third Avenue near Central Avenue are the result, as is B.F. Nelson Park.

Louise was indirectly involved in the transformation of Boom Island from an industrial base to a park.

During the construction of I-94 through North Minneapolis, Rainville said, Carl Bolander & Sons was “making tons of money. As the rehabilitation of downtown was happening, they would take the concrete from the buildings that were torn down and bring it to Boom Island to crush it to make the road bed for I-94.”

Patrick and Louise had purchased a home in the area. Louise was very proud of it, especially her deck, where she entertained guests nearly every Friday evening. “Bolander used heavy equipment, and it was noisy, and caused a lot of dust,” Rainville said. “Mom would get really mad because she’d have to sweep the deck. When my dad would come home from work, she’d yell at him to do something.”

Patrick and Van White, a city council member representing North Minneapolis, got together. “Van White would pull up at their house in his car and he and my dad would walk to the Plymouth Avenue Bridge and set up monitoring equipment,” said Rainville. “They got Bolander out because of noise.”

When Bolander moved out, the Minneapolis Parks and Recreation Board purchased the property and started creating one of the city’s most popular parks. Patrick chaired the committee that oversaw its construction.

 “All because of one very strong-willed Polish woman yelling at her husband,” said Rainville.