Today marketing agencies name everything, be it to sell sponsorship (just call it “Milwaukee Arena” already) or to sell a place itself (“that’s not an uninhabitable swamp, it’s a very expensive field of brooks…Brookfield!”). But there are plenty of examples of Milwaukee landmarks, streets, and even neighborhoods that were given names solely because of what people did or saw in that area. And considering it’s one of the three original neighborhoods of Milwaukee and currently experiencing a foodie-driven renaissance, we had to ask the question: was there a literal Walker’s point?
Yes, according to some really, really old hand-drawn maps.
As we’ve noted, Walker’s Point was the third original pillar of what would become the City of Milwaukee, founded by a young George H. Walker. But this industrious south side took time to develop as opposed to its east (Juneautown) and west (Kilbourntown) sides, in spite of the fact that it was nearly a mile closer to the strategic then-outlet of the Milwaukee River into Lake Michigan.
But while both Juneau and Kilbourn had established settlements further from the Lake’s inlet, they had both chosen large tracts of high land fronting the Milwaukee River. Walker, by contrast, had chosen to build his original 1834 home on a skinny peninsula that jutted towards the confluence of the Milwaukee and Menomonee Rivers, bordered on both sides by low-lying marshland.
If Walker had been building a medieval fortress, he probably chose the most unassailable location in 19th century Milwaukee. But as it was, Walker was intent on establishing an industry-focused community, and ultimately making money; so, he was forced to relocate his home’s perch to 4th and Bruce on more solid footing (today the football field for Bradley Tech High School) while his district’s marshland was slowly filled in by enterprising railroad barons, manufacturers, and merchants.
Today, Milwaukee’s Walker’s Point neighborhood extends between Cesar Chavez Dr / 16th St, Greenfield Ave, the southern branch of the Menomonee River, and the Kinnickinnic River inner harbor (or “Harbor View”, as is now being marketed, natch). But while most of this now-solid ground was once squishy rice fields, the historic high ground at the original Walker’s point peninsula still can be distinguished today.
And it’s a frozen yogurt place.
The southern end of the Water St Bascule Bridge, at the intersection of N Water, S Water, 1st, and Seeboth, still stands a good yard higher than the paths east or west. This is easiest to notice from a flight of stairs on the east Riverwalk or from outside the entrance of Screaming Tuna looking up a bare hill (which used to be the largest brickyard in the world).
While his original peninsula home is no longer immediately noticeable, George Walker’s choice in land ultimately has proven to be a wise one. What was first barely large enough to fit a single frontier cabin was filled over two centuries with thriving businesses and a re-surging populace. Next time you’re crossing the bridge from the Third Ward to Walker’s Point (or grabbing a Cake Batter Premium Frozen Yogurt), take a moment to appreciate that you’re literally on Walker’s point.