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Somewhere in between flying B-24s in two wars and raising three kids and two Great Danes, my grandpa Floyd went to dental school.
After running his practice for a few years out of a small office in NE Minneapolis, a cozy, unassuming building went up for sale a block north, on the corner of 32nd & Johnson, and my grandpa took a chance. With the help of my grandma and their three kids, he transformed that building into the neighborhood’s go-to family dentistry. Over the next two decades my uncle and my dad both joined my grandpa in the practice. Misner & Misner & Misner, PA. π€
It’s strange and beautiful to see this corridor thriving, steeped in curious conversations and pies and coffee and all things knitting. I remember it so differently; I remember a quiet residential neighborhood, with a funeral home, a corner store, and my dad’s dental office. The funeral home gave me nightmares, the corner store kept my brother and cousins and me quiet with a constant supply of Clearly Canadian, and my dad’s office gave me a childhood full of warm memories.
It smelled like dental impressions and toothpaste and Highlights magazines, and I loved it.
My grandpa and my uncle have passed away, and my dad retired from dentistry. But the building is still a nostalgic home for me. Two wonderful, kind dentists took over the practice, keeping on all of the staff that had been with the business for years. They’ve grown the little family business into a beautiful fixture on a flourishing corridor, complete with tooth-shaped bike racks that make me smile. It warms my heart to see it in such good hands. πππ
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