The story of Mel's Hole
The story of Mel's Hole started in the 1980s, when the hole had two or three holes in it. Now it has dozens of rooms, all the way up to the top, just under the main level. The largest room is the basement, with two levels—each holding around a dozen rooms, and each room holding many more.
The rooms at the top, in the sublevel, are the best kept. The owner, Mel, built rooms out of the concrete foundation, one above the other. He built the first two floors up on the basement and then, as he felt he'd outgrown them, made his way up to the top, until he hit the roof.
When one of my girlfriends and I came to Mel's Hole and we were told that Mel was not there, we were concerned. Where was he? Well, the truth is that Mel had gone to a funeral up in Minneapolis. He had gone there a few days before, to help a friend move, and then returned for the funeral. When we were there, however, he was back—and if you're interested in meeting a man who claims to be over 160 years old, his hair is dyed auburn, and he looks about 20, come see him.
### **What's the Story of Mel's Hole?**
_Mel_ is short for Melvin. He's lived here for over 40 years. _Mel's_ Hole is where his home is located.
He was born on May 25, 1858, in the village of Brainerd, Minnesota. A few years later he was sent to St. Mary's Academy, which is now called St. Mary's University in St. Mary's, Minnesota. While there he began a lifelong friendship with Rev. John McArthur, the future founder of Mary's University. In 1888, Mel graduated from St. Mary's, and, with John McArthur, he founded Saint Mary's School in St. Joseph, Missouri.
Somewhere between 1890 and 1895, Mel's father died, and Mel returned to Brainerd. He lived there for the rest of his life. He lived a life of self-sacrifice and self-denial, refusing to have possessions or to enjoy anything material.
As he grew older he did the job of his neighbors—plowing the fields, chopping wood, taking care of the livestock, and so on. Mel also had the responsibility of caring for his younger brother when he became ill. Eventually his brother died of tuberculosis, leaving Mel to raise his other brother and sister.
His job as a farmer was not satisfying, but it was good for the soul. His neighbor recalled that "Mel would not eat or sleep, but would sit in a corner meditating."
When I was at Mel's Hole, there was always a group of men talking about how they had lived, and even though they were all in their 70s, their stories were very moving.
He had no interest in money. In 1911, he wrote to a friend and said, "I have no desire to accumulate money. When I die, I should like to go to another world, no matter how poor that is."
There was one story that he told that was so powerful, that he repeated it twice—but every time, he took it out of proportion.
One of the men told it:
One evening, they came back to the Hole. They were tired from a long journey—some of them had been walking for a week or two. They came into the Hole and walked across to the kitchen. They sat down and began talking about what they had been doing.
One said, "I want to tell you about a big bird we saw. There was a flock of birds flying down in the sky. They had the sun behind them. It was a beautiful sunset—a very beautiful sunset. I am sure you have never seen a more beautiful sunset. I want you to see it too. I want you to go out in your yard and look up at the sky. Can you see that beautiful sunset? Let's go and see if we can find it. We may be able to find it."
They went out into the yard. The sun was getting low and they couldn't find the bird.
Then one of them said, "I think we saw the bird—but I am not sure. It was so far away. You couldn't see any more than you could see the trees. We saw it once. We were only a few hundred feet from it. Let's go and tell the others."
They began walking, one in front of the other. They found the others and began telling them about the bird. They told them they saw it and they wanted them to see it too. They asked them if they could find it again. They couldn't find the bird.
They stood there looking at the sun setting and the sun was bright—it was not nearly as dark as it was later. The men stood there, wondering if they had really seen the bird. Then one of them said, "Let's go back to the Hole."
As they walked back to the Hole, they could hear birds talking. They were chirping to each other—they were happy because they knew the sun was setting. The one that was doing all the talking said, "Where did that bird go? Do you remember seeing that bird? We couldn't find it. Why do they want us to find that bird?"
There were nine or ten men standing around the kitchen. One said, "I don't think they really wanted us to find that bird. I think they just wanted us to know that they saw it."
Then one of the men said, "I have been thinking about this since we were talking about that bird. They know what we think. Maybe they don't want us to see it because they don't want us to talk about it. That bird and that sunset was a big part of the reason they chose Mel's Hole. They knew we would see it. Maybe they didn't want us to talk about it because then we might think about other things, like how we are going to die."
Mel had been sitting in a corner of the kitchen. After listening to the story, he said, "I have had a vision."
Mel was silent for some time. Then he said, "They wanted you to have a vision too. They wanted you to be sad that the bird was gone, but you didn't want to talk about it. They were going to have you see the sunset."
As he was talking, he walked into the kitchen. He was walking very fast—almost running. He had a look of horror on his face. He said, "The sun has risen."
They all turned around, looking at the sun that was shining in their eyes. It was so bright they couldn't see. One of the men said, "The sunset was behind us. We weren't looking at the sun—we were looking at the bird."
### **Mel's Hole: The First 40 Years**
The very first year that Mel's Hole was opened to the public, in 1982, the hole had eight rooms. The first floor was just that—an area with eight rooms—as well as an office, where you could rent rooms, store clothing, and buy food. The next level, on top of the first floor, was filled with the top eight rooms—five on the main level and three on the second.
After 1982, Mel would rent rooms. There were only four or five of those for the first 10 years of Mel's Hole, but then he started renting them out for more than 30 years. By 1990, Mel had rented out almost 100 rooms. The most rooms that Mel rented were 96 rooms. Some people told me that was the highest number ever in the history of Mel's Hole.
Over the last 30 years, the Mel's Hole has grown and grown. The very first building on the first floor was a small building with just eight rooms. Now there are over 140 rooms on that first floor, along with another building holding another 40 or so rooms. And now, on the second floor, there are a series of buildings—from eight to 32 rooms, some of which are rented out to visitors, some to local residents, and some to friends. There are a total of more than 200 rooms at Mel's Hole.
### **How's Mel?**
_Mel_ is still alive. He's the owner of the house and the entire Mel's Hole complex.
When we were there, Mel seemed just as happy and peaceful as he had ever been. There are no walls or barriers at Mel's Hole. Visitors can enter at will. He doesn't care what you bring in or what you do, he's just glad that you are there.
Mel is the most famous person in Minnesota. He doesn't work. There's a story about Mel and the government—a friend of mine was telling me about a long visit he made to Mel's Hole. He said, "It's very moving. I was with someone else who had worked for the government and that person was very moved, because you don't hear stories of government workers like that. I told Mel this person was very impressed by his story. Mel told me later that the day he arrived at the Hole, he went into his office, looked up the name "Mel," and it said, "Mel's Hole."
Then the person told me Mel is a very good source of information, and a lot of people come to visit,
