After long stretches of prairie and farmland, the Mississippi River appeared…on my map, anyway. I never actually saw it, but I did see trees. Actual trees! More than I’d seen in quite a while. The view was gorgeous, and it felt like the landscape finally remembered how to breathe. Red Wing carries layers of history in its name.
Named after a 19th-century Dakota Sioux chief, Red Wing grew up near the Mdewakanton Sioux reservation. The reservation was established by the federal government in 1936, and the city developed around it. Early settlers quickly realized the land was perfect for growing wheat. In fact, before the railroads even reached the county, this little region outproduced every other county in the nation.
With the crops came industry. Immigrants from Germany, Ireland, Norway, and Sweden brought their skills and set up shop. There were mills and tanneries, boat-makers and brewers, brickworks and button factories. The town buzzed with craftsmanship and commerce. The historic St. James Hotel, still in operation today, stands as a charming reminder of that industrious past.
Red Wing is one of those places where the past still whispers—if you take the time to listen. And I was glad I did.
