Light the fuse.
Anticipation fills the streets of downtown St. Paul, and in the highways and byways that lead to the city's parks. Carloads of treasure hunters slowly tool along, pointing at smokestacks, large objects, and imaginary pyramids. Others are on foot, tilling the snowbanks at Mounds and Cherokee parks. Others stare out at the river and railroad tracks from office windows, doodling on notepads, rearranging the letters in "demo" and "mode" to make "dome."
Nowhere is the anticipation, or medallion chatter, greater than at the main entrance of 345 Cedar St. For the past few nights, a throng of medallion hunters have gathered at the Pioneer Press building, desperate to buy the next day's newspaper, which holds the new clue. The first few diehards get there around 8 p.m. By the time the doors open at 11 p.m., there are hundreds.
A few years ago, when the medallion was found at the Capitol, the throng stormed the delivery truck that was carrying the newspapers before it got halfway up Cedar. Carriers were tossing papers to people, and people were throwing quarters at the carriers.
Since then, a couple of police officers have been dispatched to keep things orderly. On the front door of the Pioneer Press building hangs a hand-scrawled sign with a set of rules, also designed to keep things orderly. But how orderly can a throng be asked to be when right next to that hand-scrawled sign is another hand-scrawled sign that reads, "The Medallion Has NOT Been Found"?
The fuse is lighted.
On your mark, get set, go.
Copyright 1998 Pioneer Press.
