Bassett’s Creek

Article by Michael Rainville, Jr.

From Medicine Lake in Plymouth to the Mississippi River in Minneapolis, Bassett’s Creek winds its way through our urban landscape. Most of the twelve-mile creek is open to daylight, but once it nears downtown Minneapolis, it enters the underground world.

Long before European-American settlers ventured to the area, Haha Wakpadan, or Little Falls River, was an important feature for local Native Americans. It was full of fish, it attracted many types wildlife for hunting, and a trail ran along its valley from the chain of lakes to the Mississippi. As soon as settlers moved into the area, the health of the creek and its valley almost immediately declined.

The fist settlers would call Haha Wakpadan “the brook,” but in 1852, an English name would be given to it. Two years earlier, Joel Bean Bassett moved to St. Anthony from New Hampshire and began working in the lumber industry. Once he secured land on the other side of the Mississippi, where Haha Wakpadan enters the river, he would start his own farm at that location. He was also Hennepin County’s first probate judge. In 1852, locals began calling the creek “Bassett’s Creek.” During the very early years of St. Anthony and Minneapolis, the creek was mainly used for fishing, swimming, and ice skating.

As the populations of St. Anthony and Minneapolis began rapidly rising, so was the need for more industry. The first major industry in the area was lumber milling, and many mills popped up along the shores of Bassett’s Creek. There is an old saying that Near North Minneapolis would be a different place today if Bassett’s Creek received the same treatment as Minnehaha Creek. However, Minnehaha was roughly two miles from Minneapolis’ city limits when the city began, and Bassett’s Creek was inside the city limits. This meant that industries would immediately take advantage of Bassett’s Creek’s waterpower, whereas Minnehaha was too far from the bulk of the population, so only a handful of mills set up shop on that creek.

With more and more mills being built along Bassett’s Creek, the businesses quickly realized that the swampy valley the creek ran through was not ideal for conducting business. Humans intervened with the natural valley by chopping down trees, bringing in soil to make the valley floor more level, and straightening the creek to make it easier to harness its power. It is hard to imagine, but when I say “valley,” I truly mean “valley.” A headline from the Minneapolis Tribune in 1868 reads “Lady Precipitated from Bassett’s Creek Bridge, a Distance of Thirty Feet.” While the lady met an untimely demise while crossing an old bridge, significant bridges were built across the creek, and in 1871, the Washington Avenue Bridge across the creek was updated into an exceptionally large stone arched bridge.

Inglewood Spring and Ice House on the creek, 1894

All of the industries and the rising population meant that Bassett’s Creek was unfortunately where garbage and waste were dumped. By the 1910s, the valley became a wasteland of broken furniture, old tires, and human waste. In under five decades, the once pristine valley of Haha Wakpadan was transformed into a dreary, dangerous Bassett’s Creek.

1920 photo of a bridge crossing the creek.

As Minneapolis began expanding its paved street system, and new towns were being established near the creek, such as Golden Valley and Plymouth, the rainwater runoff was not able to soak into the ground and trickle into the creek. Instead, the water would drain directly into the creek causing major flooding. In 1913, the flooding was so bad that another Minneapolis Tribune headline deemed the area around Bassett’s Creek “Little Venice.” A more disgusting one at that. After that flood, the city created a plan to divert the creek into underground pipes that would empty into the Mississippi. It took another ten years for the underground system to be completed at a cost of over $280,000, or over $4.2 million after inflation. From Van White Memorial Boulevard to the Mississippi River opposite Boom Island, Bassett’s Creek was now covered.

The expansion of the suburbs caused more flooding around the open-air areas of the creek, so in the 1970s, the Army Corps of Engineers completed a study and suggest the creek be rerouted through new underground tunnels that can handle the larger flow of the creek. Since the completion of the reroute, the creek now empties into the Mississippi below the river level near Mill Ruins Park and the Stone Arch Bridge. The old, original route is still in use and mainly provides relief for the new main route when creek levels are exceptionally high.

Recent photo of the old outlet of the creek. Credit: Mississippi Watershed Management Organization website

Over the years, efforts have been made to daylight portions of the creek in Minneapolis, such as in Sumner Field Park and Heritage Park along Van White Memorial Boulevard, but those “daylit” portions do not connect to the old, original route and are merely holding ponds for rainwater runoff.

The story of Bassett’s Creek should be seen as an example of how destructive and disruptive humans can be to nature. We are fortunate to not have many stories with sad endings like Bassett’s Creek, as it took early Minneapolitans “only” thirty years to realize what Native Americans knew all along. The lakes, streams, forests, and prairies of what is now Minneapolis are worth keeping and respecting, and we have the best park system in the United States that makes it possible for every resident to connect with our beautiful, natural surroundings.

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About Michael Rainville, Jr.

A 6th generation Minneapolitan, Michael Rainville Jr. received his B.A. in History from the University of St. Thomas, and is currently enrolled in their M.A. in Art History and Certificate in Museum Studies programs. Michael is also a historic interpreter and guide at Historic Fort Snelling at Bdote and a lead guide at Mobile Entertainment LLC, giving Segway tours of the Minneapolis riverfront for 7+ years. Contact: mrainvillejr@comcast.net. Click here for an interactive map of Michael's past articles.