Lars L. Nasett was born in 1858 in Dane County, Wisconsin, where his father owned a large tobacco farm. He spent his early years there and met his future wife during this time. Despite the challenges of horse-and-buggy travel, Lars regularly visited her, and after a proper courtship, the couple married. Shortly after, Lars grew restless with farming and decided to learn carpentry, apprenticing under his uncle, a well-known contractor. When his uncle took on a project to build a theological seminary near Minneapolis, Lars accompanied him and became captivated by the area. Recognizing its potential, he used his savings to purchase land from A.B. Robbins, surprising the owner by declaring his intent to build a store and establish a town.
With his uncle’s help, Lars constructed a two-story store and stocked it with general merchandise. Farmers in the area welcomed the convenience, and Lars soon expanded his business by adding a tin shop to produce household items for the store. Once established, he brought his wife to Minnesota. She traveled by freight train, as there were no passenger trains at the time, and Lars met her at the Minneapolis station. Together, they journeyed ten miles to their new home in Robbinsdale by horse and wagon.
In the summer of 1888, Robbinsdale experienced its first building boom, with thirteen new houses constructed. Recognizing the growing needs of the community, Lars successfully petitioned for a post office and became Robbinsdale’s first postmaster, a position he held for 15 years. He also played a key role in incorporating the village in 1893, serving as a trustee and often stepping in as mayor pro tem when A.B. Robbins was unavailable. Village governance was no easy task, particularly with contentious issues like prohibition. Lars’ diplomacy and tact helped smooth over many disputes, earning him respect in the community.

Lars’s general store became the heart of Robbinsdale, serving as a gathering place for local politicians and townspeople to discuss current affairs, including the divisive prohibition debate. Over the years, Lars held numerous roles, including assessor, health officer, depot agent, and postmaster, often simultaneously. He served as an assessor for over 20 years and held that position until his passing. His dedication extended beyond his official roles; he worked to beautify Robbinsdale by planting and maintaining trees along the main streets, many of which still stand today.

Lars had a gift for humor and a positive outlook that helped him navigate the challenges of pioneer life. He often turned difficult situations into jokes, endearing him to others. Despite his lighthearted nature, he was hardworking and persevering, willingly taking on burdens for the good of the community. Generous with his time and resources, he was beloved by his grandchildren, who could always count on him for a spare nickel or an ice cream cone.

A true “Jack of all Trades,” Lars mastered numerous skills, including carpentry, farming, tin working, and public service. He was also an accomplished musician, proficient in the violin, guitar, piccolo, piano, and cornet. As a young boy, he played in a family orchestra that performed at local dances and weddings. Later in life, he cherished listening to symphony broadcasts but had little patience for jazz, which he felt lacked the qualities of true music.

Lars’ contributions to Robbinsdale were immense, and his legacy endured long after his passing. The trees he planted, the community he helped build, and the lives he touched stand as lasting testaments to his life of service and goodwill. Lars died in 1937. His memory is a source of inspiration, embodying the ideals of hard work, humor, and dedication to others. The store was torn down in 1966.
The image at the top of the post features a watercolor of the store by Robbinsdale artist Einar Dahl (1884 – 1976).


Interesting article and pictures. The picture looking west on 42nd from around 1900, looks oddly modern, outside of the streets being paved now and the fellow sitting on the curb, which would be considered vagrancy these days.
My family lived off of 42nd just west of Hwy 18, in Plymouth, and my grandmother lived near the WWI flagpole in North Minneapolis, so we made the drive numerous times. It’s strange how similar 42nd looks in that pic.
My great-grandfather, coincidentally, worked as a postman for Robbinsdale after his time in WWI, so may have worked out of the General Store, but i’m not sure.