Milwaukee's German-loving Mayor, Henry Maier, was into his third year and pushing for the city to get on the national map. His dream was a downtown summer festival of beer, brats and polka music on the shores of Lake Michigan. The dream came true in July 1968.One dream wasn't enough: Maier's number two was opening Summerfest each year with songs he would sing. The "singing mayor" pulled it off because of his popularity -- he was elected seven straight times. So he recorded a polka song to promote the festival:
Go to Milwaukee! How humming a city you’ll see. Sing in Milwaukee! Trah, lah, lah, lah, lee. Prosit Milwaukee! Toast Gaily and so Free. Milwaukee, Milwaukee, Milwaukee! A happy place to be!
My mother and father were Maier backers. They had just purchased a corner bakery on the north side of the city, at 12th and Atkinson Avenue. My father baked in the back room on the ground floor, and my mother sold the goods from the store in the front. We all lived upstairs, seven of us.
Sundays were big sales days. Secretly my father hoped Mayor Maier would come in and order thousands of German hardrolls and bratwurst buns for the festival-to-come. Maier would have had to wait. Customers lined up at 6am to buy a pound of hot baked ham and get a dozen German buttercrust rolls free in the deal. By noon, we were sold out when the after-church rush was over.After the rush my father and I sometimes went to see the guy at the bar. The bar was a tavern kitty-corner from our bakery, the desired spot for "Frühschoppen treffen", a German custom that gives men an excuse to meet for a late morning drink. No drink for me, just 5 cents to play the Everly Brothers on the juke box.
The guy at the bar hated the singing Mayor. He was in the 4% of voters against Maier in 1964. The haters didn't like the Mayor's stance for open housing -- black families legally were restricted where they could live -- and started calling him the "mayor of Moscow" for his political leanings. Meantime, in and around our neighborhood, white flight was gaining steam. Homes were sold as families moved to the suburbs. They've stayed there ever since. As recently as 2016, Milwaukee was cited as the most segregated metro area in the country.
Our bakery didn't survive the city's 1967 civil riots -- they broke out on 30 July, my mother's 46th birthday-- and the red brick building eventually became a church. Today it's one of seven churches within a segregated zip code -- 53206 -- ranked among the city's poorest.
The tavern died too, but not the Mayor's dream of Summerfest. It debuted in July 1968 and is still going strong, along with a parade of ethnic and social festivals. For a short time, they bring out the Mayor's vision of a better Milwaukee. For insight, watch Black Nouveau's PBS special "Crossing the Bridge" hosted by JoAnne Williams, an award winning reporter and friend since high school.
