Justin: Minnesota man keeps Old Hollywood alive with Richard Widmark Museum

I recently mentioned some film legends to my mass media class at the University of St. Thomas. Just a handful of the 16 students were familiar with Katharine Hepburn, but none could name any of her pictures. Only one of them had even heard of Marlon Brando or Humphrey Bogart.

That was a shame — but not shocking. Generation Z has the ability to watch almost any film in history, but they rarely take advantage of it. Movie stars who shined more than two decades ago are as foreign to them as the Incas.

But that hasn’t stopped some elders from keeping the flame alive.

Wade Olson, 49, is doing his part in Sunrise, Minn., a township so small that some residents in neighboring North Branch don’t even know it exists. There, in the backyard of handed-down family property, is a shack dedicated to Richard Widmark, born less than a half-mile away.

The actor is best known for his debut film, 1947′s “Kiss of Death,” in which his villain took pleasure in pushing a wheelchair-bound woman down the stairs. His subsequent career was full of classics like 1968′s “Madigan” and 1961′s “Judgment at Nuremberg,” playing characters that behave like they have a stone wedged in their boot.

Widmark’s ties to Minnesota aren’t particularly strong. A year after his birth, his family moved to Illinois. But the connection was enough for Olson to build this tribute two decades ago and urge Sunrise to pay its respects.

“It wasn’t easy,” said Olson on a recent Sunday morning, sipping an energy drink as he led me into his sanctuary. “There were lots of meetings with township officials just trying to get signs up. I had to fight for everything. You think they’d be proud.”

He’s disappointed that more people haven’t checked out titles like 1959′s “Warlock,” a superb Western in which Widmark plays an outlaw who changes his stripes or 1965′s “The Bedford Incident,” a submarine thriller with one of the most shocking endings in cinema history.

“It’s a sad deal,” he said. “So many people aren’t interested in film, unless they have special effects.”

The tribute is modest, at least compared with Iowa’s John Wayne Birthplace & Museum and the Ava Gardner Museum in North Carolina.

It consists mostly of old posters and newspaper clippings, nothing the Smithsonian would want. The shed could use a paint job. The front door jams. The video Olson uses to introduce visitors is broken. But those shortcomings haven’t stopped die-hard fans from making the pilgrimage.

About 18 years ago, Olson was mowing the lawn at the site of his hero’s birthplace, when a woman from San Diego pulled up in a rental car.

“She was just ecstatic,” he said. “She took some soil.”

Olson once welcomed one of Elvis Presley’s bodyguards, who told him how the King used to rent out theaters so he could watch Widmark movies in peace.

Presley wasn’t the only famous fan. Jesse Ventura attended Olson’s birthday party four years ago and recorded a cellphone video, sharing how Widmark’s 1951 drama “The Frogmen” inspired him to join the Navy SEALs.

The real treat when visiting the museum is Olson himself.

He’s low-key, but his mind is racing with trivia. He can tell you the exact time Widmark was born (20 minutes after Christmas), gossip about “Don’t Bother To Knock” co-star Marilyn Monroe (”he thought she was crazy”) and recommend sleepers (1969′s ”Death of a Gunfighter” is his favorite).

Olson is most animated when he reminisces about the time he met his hero. Shortly after the museum opened, he drove to Roxbury, Conn., and spent 40 minutes with Widmark. The long-retired actor signed memorabilia and posed for pictures shot by his wife, Susan Blanchard, Henry Fonda’s widow.

“It was really something,” said Olson with the awe of a former altar boy looking back on a blessing from the Pope. “As I was leaving, he said, ‘Can you believe this man drove all the way out here just to meet me?’”

The Sunrise shack isn’t the only salute to Widmark, who died in 2008 at age 93. There’s a star with his name on it in front of a movie theater in Princeton, Ill., where he worked as a youngster. The now-closed Richard Widmark Airport in Green River, Mo., was so named because the actor donated money to its construction.

But you’d be hard pressed to find a bigger fan than Olson. Meeting him, however, can be a challenge.

As a construction worker, sometimes working 13-hour days, it’s tough for him to find time for private tours — the only way to check out his collection. It’s become even harder since he moved to Maple Grove, more than an hour away.

The best way to arrange a visit is by messaging him on his Facebook page, Wade WadeStock Olson. Don’t expect him to hire additional help or expand his museum.

“I’m fulfilled,” he said. “I feel like I’ve done my part.”