It’s time to lower the invisible drawbridge at the Minneapolis Club

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The first time I walked into the Minneapolis Club, I felt like I had entered one of those children’s books where the heroine slips through a portal into a mysterious land that had been hidden but nearby all along.

Within a block of my hectic, messy workplace at WCCO Radio, it was an island of elegance, marked with fresh flowers, gleaming hardwood floors and polished brass. I half expected to see Alexis Colby from Dynasty descending the winding staircase and calling me “darling.”

I walked into the Minneapolis Club to have lunch with a member who wanted to hire me to help promote their organization.

I walked out with my mind blown and my worldview expanded. I immediately decided to become a member.

Right away, I made myself at home with some of the city’s most successful men and women. These are folks I’d never have a chance to meet otherwise. Now we’re not just clinking glasses at the bar, they’re drinking me up. Yeah, I have my own signature cocktail, “The Sheletta,” a refreshing blend of vodka, pineapple juice and a splash of ginger beer.

I’ve ridden in the elevator with former Minnesota Supreme Court justice, philanthropist and Vikings great Alan Page. New cronies who have fallen in love with me have invited me to their suite for a Timberwolves game and regularly meet me to play craps. (Side note: I bring my own set of dice and invite folks to play on the pickleball court because I like the sound the dice make when they hit the wall.)

One day coming out of the restroom I bumped into Nancy Lyons, founder of Clockwork. She brought me with her to an event where Gov. Tim Walz addressed a group of female club members.

So now when I’m trying to impress a new client, I use the perks of my membership to invite them to meet me “at my club.” They take me seriously over lunch in the paneled dining room or in the private courtyard just feet from a public sidewalk but hidden behind the hedges.

The Minneapolis Club has operated with a vibe of exclusivity since it was established in 1883, when most cities could boast several such private gathering spots where men of means made deals over discrete dinners and handshakes.

By 1909 when the club moved to its present location in the ivy-covered castle on 2nd Avenue South, it became a downtown respite where the city’s elite — pale and male — could meet, bond and do business with each other.

For many decades, membership at the Minneapolis Club was by invitation only, with members tending to invite their prominent and privileged peers.

Historically, women were included in their husbands’ memberships and often used a separate entrance. According to Minneapolis Club Maitre d’Hotel Daniel Olson, the first woman to walk in the front door as a member in her own right was Muriel Humphrey in 1978. But that was only after she became Minnesota’s first female U.S. senator, appointed following the death of her husband, Senator and former Vice President Hubert Humphrey.

The club website states “The Minneapolis Club seeks a diverse membership with no discrimination based on gender, sex, race, religion, disability, age, marital status, or national origin.”

But the eyes in my head confirm that today’s membership does not reflect the diversity of our great city. My presence is unusual enough that once a woman approached me for help, assuming that I was staff, not a fellow club member.

My goal is to lower the invisible drawbridge and drain the virtual moat that Black citizens might have seen at the Minneapolis Club.

The old barriers that kept us out of the castles evaporate when we walk in their front doors with our heads high. I want my fellow Black business owners, especially the female ones, to know that they, too, can socialize, network and claim membership inside these walls.

That’s why I invited about a hundred of them to a recent soiree at the Minneapolis Club, so they could savor the ambience of the classy club with its cloth hand towels, concierge and maître d’ who calls you by name.

One of the entrepreneurs in attendance, Jernell Suttle, owner of Suttle Orchids Salon, said that years ago when she worked downtown, she used to sit at the bus stop across the street and look at this building and wonder about it.

When she finally got an opportunity to go inside, she said she felt like she was in Bridgerton and needed her dance card filled.

After she and the other guests sipped a round of Shelettas, the entrepreneurs took a tour, learned the advantages of access and envisioned themselves in a club where they and their families would have once been excluded.

Like me, most club members have family memberships that benefit everyone who regularly rides in their minivans. My daughter is looking forward to celebrating her 11th birthday at the club with her friends from church. My three youngest children are taking private swim lessons in the club’s indoor pool.

When we walk into the Minneapolis Club, they are not star struck. It’s simply another fabulous place where they belong.

And, darling, that’s exactly as it should be.