The man who runs Wescott Station has reached that elusive contented stage in life. He has the Hi-lex Gnomes. What else could a fellow want?
Wally Wescott, in addition to his exalted stature as a St. Paul antique dealer in that spiffy part of the city that used to be known as Seven Corners, also has played an important role in the development of local sports giants such as baseball coach Dennis Denning, Twins legends Paul Molitor and Jack Morris and a grade-school quarterback named Chris Coleman. Coleman may not have been his greatest athletic triumph.
“All I did was call the hikes,” Coleman said in 2006. “It’s much like I do now. I call the snap, and somebody else does the work.”
Of Hizzoner, Wally recalls kindly, “He was small but not afraid to hit.”
Did I mention that Wally saved the Hi-lex Gnomes?
Wally is in his 30th year as proprietor of the Wescott Station antique store at West Seventh and Chestnut streets, specializing in stained glass windows, crockery, glassware, type cases and old chairs he puts out at the bus stop in front of his store so weary travelers have somewhere to flop.
Wally’s finest hour, and there’ve been many of those, may have come in 2001, when the St. Paul Winter Carnival almost lost its entire regiment of Hi-lex Gnomes.
The gnomes were several dozen goofy-looking white fiberglass droplets that for 60 years waddled down the street as a beloved marching brigade in carnival parades. There were big ones, little ones and fat ones – unique shrouds worn since 1948 by Boy Scout Troop 13 from St. Columba Catholic Church.
Oblivious out-of-towners bought the Hi-lex bleach company, and one of the first moves was to send workers to the Hi-lex plant in Eagan with chain saws to cut up and disappear all those mysterious gnomes that were stored there.
But one veteran Hi-lex employee realized what was happening and liberated 10 of the gnomes from this carnage. He brought eight of them to Wally, who bought them all, and who has since resisted all offers to purchase the gnomes.
Ever since then, Wally makes the Hi-lex Gnomes available to Troop 13 when the Carnival rolls around.
“I wanted them to be back in the parade,” says Wally, now 72. “Through the years, lots of people wanted them. But they will always be in the parade.”
Just as it seems there always has been a Wally on the West End and in Highland Park to shepherd students and athletes. He spent 25 years as a math teacher and athletics director at St. Luke’s Catholic School and a couple of playgrounds on his native West End (Wally is Monroe High School, class of ’53).
One of his greatest fans is Dennis Denning, who achieved fame as a baseball coach at Cretin-Derham Hall and now at St. Thomas College. The legendary story is that Denning, as a physical education teacher at St. Luke’s, suggested that Wally take special notice of a kid out on the playground.
The kid could hit, run, field and throw, Denning told Wally.
“I’m telling you now, this kid is going to be in the major leagues.”
So what grade is this kid in, Wally asked.
“Fourth.”
And what’s his name?
“Paul Molitor.”
Wally was coaching American Legion ball at Christie De Parcq when another promising athlete came along.
“I switched him from being a third baseman to a pitcher,” says Wally. That player was Jack Morris.
“Wally was my Legion ball coach, my grade school coach and my playground coach,” says Denning. “He’s always been a great mentor, and I’ve a son who is now a St. Paul police officer. When he was born, we named him Wes, for Wally.”
Wally finally retired from teaching because he and his wife, Rosie, had five children, and “there was no way I could afford all that private school tuition on a teacher’s pay.”
The antique store was a natural fit for a longtime garage saler and flea marketer. You’ll know when you get to Wescott Station because it seems that every day of the year, half of its goods are piled out on the sidewalk, including a partial row of prized stadium seats salvaged from the old Met ballpark in Bloomington. Wally makes those available during warm weather so commuters can sit down while they wait for the bus.
“I had a rocking chair out there one day, and a bus full of passengers stopped, the driver hopped off, sat down, rocked a bit, said, ‘I be back for it,’ got back on his bus and took off.
“The driver picked it up on his return trip.”
You’d think Wally would be concerned about theft.
“In 30 years,” he says, “I’ve lost three things. And one of them was my own fault for leaving it out by mistake.”
When the Minnesota Twins celebrated their World Series win in 1987 with a parade through St. Paul, Wally locked up and went downtown.
“I came back after the parade, and I’d locked a customer and her son in the store when I left. I made it up to her with dinner for two at Patrick McGovern’s and an autographed photo of Kirby Puckett for her son. But you’d have thought she could have at least sold something as long as she was in charge of the shop.”
Wescott Station provides other services you might not find at a Wal-Mart store. If Rosie sees someone waiting for the bus without mittens, she donates a pair from a big bag of mittens and gloves she keeps in the shop.
And son Kurt, who is in the business with Wally, runs the dog treat operation. He not only gives out goodies to dogs that come by each day, he also leaves the snacks in a special place for when the store is closed on Sundays.
“We’re losing our little shops,” says Wally. “How do you weigh what we do and what we’re losing?”
In May, Wally will be the presenter when one of his athletes, Snap Leitner, a retired St. Paul firefighter and a leader of the West Seventh Street Boys Club, is ushered into the Mancini’s Hall of Fame. The annual award is given to a St. Paul person who exemplifies sportsmanship and community spirit.
“I’ve got the right guy to bring me in,” says Leitner. “He was one of the first to win the award years ago himself.
“There isn’t anyone on West Seventh who doesn’t know and love Wally.”
Retired Pioneer Press columnist Don Boxmeyer can be reached at donboxmeyer@comcast.net.
Copyright 2007 Pioneer Press.
