The Wake

The Cedar-Riverside neighborhood has seen many changes through the years. The sense of community has shifted as populations have moved in and out and the neighboring colleges (the University of Minnesota and Augsburg College) have expanded. The North Country Co-op was a common thread in the community throughout its 35 years in service to the southeast Minneapolis neighborhood. Empty shelves now line the once defiant store, a piece of Twin Cities history.

This past summer, North Country reached out to other co-ops in the Twin Cities for help as they faced a financial crisis. Mississippi Market volunteered General Manger Patrick Werle, a 15-year veteran of the cooperative business, to lend a helping hand. He came in thinking that he could solve the problems that have plagued the struggling grocery store, but he soon realized that North Country’s financial issues were past the point of repair. Part of the problem was that the store could no longer exist as a full service grocery store. The lunch crowd was the majority of the business, while bulk shoppers had become a rarity. He felt that, in absence of a miracle, it was the right decision to close the doors.

On the other hand, Yibrah Asgedom, the supplement and body care buyer for the co-op, felt that the closure was the wrong decision. Four years earlier, board members had come close to making the same decision, but cooler heads ultimately prevailed.

“I said, you’re dancing on the grave of the North Country Co-op. I came in, the only African, the only foreigner, and said, ‘No!’” Asgedom said.

He saw a glimmer of hope in the prospects of an expanded Carlson School of Business Management and the continued development of the West Bank. Within range of two colleges, multiple bus stops and Fairview-University Medical Center, the store was in the heart of a burgeoning community. But Asgedom does recognize that in a democracy, the majority always wins. And, unfortunately, so can overwhelming circumstances.

North Country had accrued a large debt since moving to the 19th Avenue location. According to various employees, the co-op had over $200,000 in debt, which it owed to co-op members, the bank and the various suppliers it dealt with - some dating back to the 1980s. With no way out of debt, and a lack of capital for improvements, the majority of co-op members saw no other way than to shut the doors permanently.

Founded in 1971 on the corner of 22nd Ave. SE and Riverside, North Country was the first of the new wave of co-ops in the Minneapolis-St. Paul area. The rise of the supermarket had closed the doors of many ma-and-pa groceries. To fight the decline of these neighborhood stores, groups of friends had started loose-buying clubs, which purchase groceries as a group in order to challenge the dominant consumer culture. After they moved from their back porches into the former grocery on the Augsburg campus, success came quickly. Soon, other groups sprouted out of what was known colloquially as “The People’s Pantry,” and a network of growers, bakers and buyers started forming new cooperatives.

By 1976, the co-op movement had flourished throughout the Twin Cities, opening many familiar storefronts like Seward on Franklin Avenue and the Wedge on Lyndale Avenue. When John Sherman, a North Country employee, first walked into the co-op, he was taken aback. There were no neat lines of shelves in the tiny store; produce and spices were sorted in large bins, and big green garbage cans were filled to their brims. The workers told him to check out his own produce at the register. The whole atmosphere was something new to him. Sherman soon found himself out of work, and after a brief informal interview with three employees, he was hired at North Country. He continued to work at the co-op for the next 31 years.

Despite the movement’s initial success, North Country itself has faced a series of ups and downs. Nine years ago, the co-op was forced out of the 22nd Avenue location by Augsburg; the co-op just wasn’t a part of the college’s plans. But the move was a blessing in disguise. Workers were able to fundraise and erase much of the cooperative’s debt during the move to the 19th Avenue location.

When we moved, we were able to raise a lot of money, and at that point we were a fairly healthy co-op,” said Marvin Lexterkamp, a board member at North Country.

Since that point, the co-op has only seen two years of profit. The changing faces of the neighborhood and lack of an adequate costumer base forced the co-op to make changes they weren’t necessarily ready to make. North Country had remained a labor-based collective while most of the Twin Cities co-ops had become consumer-based collectives, which do not require members to volunteer. Two years ago, North Country finally made the tough decision to lose that unique status among Twin Cities’ co-ops. They even adopted a managerial structure, which had long been an unviable proposition among the staff members. At the same time, North Country joined the National Cooperative Growers Association, which allowed them to buy produce wholesale with co-ops throughout the Midwest. They tried to make the store more customer friendly, adding a coffee shop and stocking more ethnic choices for the large Somali population. Despite all of these changes, the co-op wasn’t doing any better.

“We’ve learned a lot [about] how to be more professional in your presentation. Customer service is key. We didn’t even realize that because a lot of our shoppers were working members [who knew what to do]” said Victor, an employee for seven years.

Meanwhile, organic foods, which once were solely co-op territory, have started showing up everywhere: first in Whole Foods and Kowalski’s and then later in Rainbow Foods and Cub. More recently, Target and even Wal-Mart have adopted a green image, providing a large, cut-rate source of organic foods. In 2006, Wal-Mart was the world’s largest buyer of organics. This startling fact changes the entire equation and asks the question: is organic good enough?
Beverly Smith, a Biology professor at Augsburg College, has shopped at North Country since she moved to the city four years ago. In her role as an educator, she consistently preached the need to shop locally and organically. Smith talks to her students about the importance of supporting local stores that specialize in organic and locally grown produce. The co-op began a working relationship with her students, even coming to the classroom to discuss sustainable agricultural environments. If students can shop locally, or buy foods from area farmers, then they are reducing pollution and, in effect, doing their part to curb global warming, Smith says. But large student meal plans tend to keep students out of the markets and in the cafeterias.

“I know that some of the campuses have been trying to shop more locally as well, and bring more sustainable foods onto campus. But I think that with the [higher] pricing that you have to make a commitment that you’re willing to pay that higher price,” Smith said.

Without that steady stream of bulk shoppers, North Country was consistently unable to meet sales goals. The late move to a consumer co-op structure, as well as the additions of a coffee shop and ethnic foods, did not change this trend. Two weeks before the doors were closed, the board called up its lawyers and set the liquidation process into motion.

Despite the closure of the Twin Cities oldest co-op, the market for sustainable goods is growing. Without North Country, Seward Co-op may have never existed. There have been literally thousands of employees who’ve come through North Country’s doors and moved onto other co-ops. Without these vital contributions, the cooperative network we know today might not have been as successful.