Just before midnight one Saturday, my friend and I climbed three flights of stairs to the top floor of what was once the grandest department store in Hibbing, Minnesota. Pulsing bass shook the steps. A medieval suit of knight’s armor rattled in its metallic boots on one of the landings.
I ascended with trepidation. This was my first visit to a nightclub. That is, unless you count the time I delivered chicken wings to a dancer at a strip club in Gilbert when I was 16. (Before you ask, she stepped off stage and paid with dry bills from her purse.)
Today, I’m a portly father figure. I don’t drink or dance, at least not effectively. So why go clubbing now?
Because the “Do You” isn’t just a nightclub. It’s a statement of what’s possible in a town still reeling after the local iron mining industry shed 10,000 jobs in 40 years. Owner…
