Long ago, advertising signs were often painted directly on the exterior walls of commercial buildings. When these old buildings are modernized, the signs are buried under new siding. Recently, three “ghost signs” have come to light with the BAM Collective renovation project on the north side of Glisan Street between NE 71st and NE 72 nd Avenues.
East side of 7124 NE Glisan building Photo by Thomas Tilton
On the east wall, the “SHEET METAL WORKS” sign has reappeared. The word above is still partially obscured. We can make out “OODMAN” and a tiny fragment of an upward-slanting letter that remains covered by unremoved material. It could be a W or X, or Y, but “W” seems most likely. Did someone named Woodman once occupy this building?
If so, he was not the first occupant. The 7124 NE Glisan building was constructed in 1912 for John J. Shreiner’s bakery business. He operated this until his death in 1929. From that time, the building was unoccupied—except for renters in the second-floor apartment—until Frank T. Woodman moved his sheet metal business here in 1932 or 1933.
Frank Thomas Woodman (1892-1965) worked as a metalworker from at least age 17. He was listed as a “tinner” in the 1910 U.S. census for Portland.
A young Frank T. Woodman in a 1914 photo. Source: Woodman Family Tree (Ancestry) digital restored and original
Before occupying the Montavilla building, he had his own sheet metal shop at Glisan and 52nd. Why did he decide to relocate his business to Montavilla? It was the Depression era; perhaps rent was cheaper there. Perhaps the Montavilla location was more convenient?
Another possible—if not certain—reason might have been a desire to leave his North Tabor neighborhood, even if this was only twenty blocks away. The Oregon Journal of February 15, 1932 reported some embarrassing events that took place in Woodman’s 52nd Avenue building. Late at night, a violent fight in the rental apartment above the sheet metal shop was reported, and police came to investigate. The fight was over, but one man was so severely injured that the police sent him to the hospital. Another man was arrested for drunkenness. Neither of these men was Frank. But the police decided to search Woodman’s shop and found there a copper still which was under construction. They also found liquor. Woodman was also arrested for possession of alcohol. (Prohibition restrictions did not end until December 5, 1933.)
1924 Sanborn Portland map detail showing the location of Frank Woodman’s plumbing and tin shop at 1415 East Glisan (now the vacant area on the east side of Providence Hospital)
By 1932 or 1933, Woodman’s sheet metal business was relocated to the 7123 NE Glisan building. It is unclear how long he remained there, but by 1934 the Portland city directory shows the property was once again vacant. By 1940, Woodman was a partner in the East Side Metal Works at 1734 E. Burnside.
More ghost signs were exposed with the remodeling process on the west side of 7123 NE Glisan building. These are harder to see clearly because the newer building next door casts them in shadow. These signs were created for later and different businesses. Near the front of the west wall, if you look carefully, you can see “Drink,” “MISSIO/ORANG,” and “MAKES THIRS.”
Mission orange ghost sign at the west side of the 7123 NE Glisan building. Photos by Jacob Loeb
The original, unobscured sign would have read “A Mission Orange drink makes thirst a pleasure.” This was a slogan used by the Mission Dry Corporation’s in its 1935-1936 advertising campaign for its non-carbonated orange juice soft drink.
Mission Orange Drink ad in The Oregon Journal of June 20, 1935
The big Mission Orange sign advertised a product available in the 7123 NE Glisan building. A grocery store seems most likely. But I could not confirm this nor could I identify the tenant. Whatever the business, it was no longer there by 1937-1938, when the building again lay vacant.
The final ghost sign appears to the left of the orange drink sign. This one advertises bicycle sales and service.
Bicycle sales & service sign on the west side of 7123 NE Glisan building.
Note how the adjacent building casts the signs in shadow. Photographs by Jacob Loeb
We can connect this sign with Ralph’s Bike Shop, which opened at this address in 1950. The owner was Kansas native Ralph Leroy Mock (1900-1980). Ads in Portland newspapers and Portland city directory listings indicate that the bike business was in operation from 1949 to 1953.
In the remaining years, the building was occupied by a variety of businesses, but they did not add their own signs to the west or east walls of this building—at least none that survived. The time for signs painted on commercial building walls had passed. Be sure to see these ghost signs soon. They could vanish once again with the new construction project.
By
Patricia Sanders
This is part of Montavilla History Questions Answered, a series of history related articles. If you have questions about Montavilla’s past that you’d like answered, local historian Patricia Sanders will investigate your question. Please email your questions to history@montavilla.net and we may feature it alongside Patricia Sanders’ research in a future.
From time to time, we hear about bear sightings in Portland’s Forest Park—but bears in Montavilla? That is what the Oregon Journal of October 9, 1920 reported. The story was based on the recollections of an unnamed man who had lived in what is now Montavilla since 1860. That is 29 years before the earliest Mount Tabor Villa lots went on the market, and the birth of the neighborhood officially began.
“Bear,” Oregon Journal Magazine, part of a series on rare Oregon animals, written and illustrated by R. Bruce Horsfall, May 21, 1922 (digitally colorized version used in title image)
“The old-timer” —as the Journal reporter said—had lived in a log cabin that he built himself. Pointing to the intersection of Glisan and 80th, he said a bear family once lived in that wooded area.
Intersection of NE Glisan Street and NE 80th Avenue, once home of a family of bears?
He enjoyed watching the bears playing in the early morning. But sometimes, he would return home to find it ransacked by the bears.
“Montavilla,” Oregon Daily Journal, October 19, 1920
It is hard to prove, but it is at least possible.
Records show that this general area was part of the black bears’ range. And, certainly, it was once heavily forested—the black bear’s preferred habitat. Written documentation of black bears in this general area goes back to the journals of the Lewis and Clark expedition. An April 2, 1806 journal entry mentions four of the expedition’s men killing an elk, some deer, and a black bear near the mouth of the Sandy River.
With a cursory search of Portland newspapers, I found numerous articles mentioning local sightings of black bears from 1869 to the present.
So, there is no doubt that we live in what was once black bear territory, now pushed back to the periphery of our cities and beyond. And even 160 years ago, they were already a rare sight.
Forests are the black bear’s preferred habitat. The old timer spoke of firs so tall and plentiful that it was almost a year before he knew about Mount Tabor and Rocky Butte. Maybe an exaggeration, but trees—including firs—were native to this area.
The Big Burn of 1846, spreading from Mount Scott almost to the Columbia River, destroyed much of the pre-existing thick forest. But did this fire burn trees in the area around today’s Glisan and 80th? That’s hard to say.
But fir—as well as hemlock and maple trees—still existed in this general area, as the Oregon General Land Office’s 1854 map shows.
Annotated 1854 General Land Office map indicating fir, hemlock, and maple trees in the general area including today’s Montavilla neighborhood.
Another account indicating forests in the general Montavilla area is found in Wilber Kerns Newell’s 1934 memoir. Writing of the “big wind” of January 9, 1880, he noted that so many trees were knocked down that he and his young friends could walk from Base Line Road (now Stark) all the way to Rocky Butte “without once stepping off fallen tree trunks.”
Why did the Oregon Journal run a five-paragraph story about a man’s recollections about bears in Montavilla? Were readers really that interested in bears? Judging by the stories about bears that span decades, they were.
Most coverage focused on black bears (Ursus americanus), although grizzlies (Ursus arctos horribilis) were also mentioned. Black bears—the ones still living near cities—were more populous. The grizzly population had dwindled to the point that in 1937 the last survivor was killed in Wallowa County.
Although the Ursus americanus is commonly referred to as the black bear, these bears also come in varying shades of brown. Sometimes, however, brown bears are described as if they are separate species. It was the black ones that sometimes wandered into Portland and other Oregon towns and cities.
The dangerous side of black bears was also a regular news feature, including ferocious mauling of humans and attacks on livestock.
Besides sightings, newspapers reported hunts for both sport and bear control. They identified bears ransacking fruit orchards and attacking sheep.
Headline in the Oregon Journal, October 14, 1903, page 1. A 400-pound bear was tracked and killed by a Mr. Schuman of Portland, who spotted him and his “bear friends” raiding his apple orchard near Johnson Creek.
A particularly detailed story about an urban bear hunt ran in the Oregonian of September 8, 1962. A young bear was sighted near Reed College and was tracked by 20 policemen, a Humane Society officer, and neighbors. They chased the bear through the neighborhood but were unable to capture the bear alive. A police officer shot him when he stopped to drink from a backyard pond.
Source: Oregonian, September 8, 1962
Given the keen public interest in the wild bear-urban interface, Portland newspapers also reported sightings and killings in other Oregon cities and other locations throughout the U.S.
Public interest in bears was not limited to wild bears. Newspapers also ran stories about performing bears—including boxing matches between declawed bears and strong men.
And then there was a stuffed black bear displayed on the ground floor of Portland’s City Hall. By 1909, this moth-eaten specimen was offered to any taker.
The dangerous side of black bears was also a regular news feature, including reports of ferocious maulings of humans and attacks on livestock. A newspaper article described how a man named Giuseppe was clawed by the bear he kept in a makeshift pit in Marquam Gulch.
Given the size, strength, and ferocity of the black bear, it is shocking to read that bears once performed on the streets of Portland. The Oregon Journal of June 6 and 7, 1923 reported on the performances of organ-grinder Cesare Zenzold and his dancing bear.
Given the known ferocity of bears, newspapers also highlighted the adorable antics of bears in the Washington Park zoo and applauded Little Teddy, the black bear at the Jantzen Beach amusement park in the 1930s.
“Bear Cubs Are Good Bottle Babies, Playmates,” Oregonian Journal, November 1, 1936.
The Oregon press sometimes portrayed bears as cute and friendly characters in song, story, and verse. Both the Oregonian and the Oregon Journal ran illustrated children’s stories in the early 20th century that featured playful bears.
“The Roosevelt Bears Abroad” by Seymour Eaton; illustrated by R. K. Culver. Source: Sunday Oregonian Magazine, March 24, 1907
The friendly bear image persisted for many decades in stories, toys, and songs. Some of you may remember “The Teddy Bear’s Picnic,” with music composed in 1907 and lyrics added in 1932.
And the teddy bear—that popular toy—goes back to 1902. The original was inspired by news reports that President Theodore Roosevelt went on a hunting trip and failed to bag a bear. But when his assistants caught and restrained a bear, “Teddy” refused to shoot it. That would have been unsporting.
Cartoon by Clifford Berryman in the November 16, 1902 Washington Post showing President Roosevelt refusing to shoot a captive bear. Source: Wikimedia
A Teddy Bear of 1903, Smithsonian Museum of Natural History. Source: Wikimedia
Two clever stuffed-animal makers honored Roosevelt by creating a Teddy’s Bear line. It went viral in 1902. Soon, the Ideal Toy Company mass-produced teddy bears.
Was the old-timer’s story about the Montavilla bear family true? I do not know. But given the public’s fascination with bears—both ferocious and cute—I can understand why the Oregon Journal’s editors wanted to publish the story.
Perhaps bear-related stories speak of a nostalgia for the wilds replaced by buildings and streets, as the Montavilla old-timer implied.
“Montavilla,” Oregon Daily Journal, October 19, 1920.
Now, if you like, watch the video below and imagine you are that Montavilla man of old watching the bear family at the corner of Glisan and 80th: youtube.com/watch?v=uhZZT-WjAM8
By
Patricia Sanders
This is part of Montavilla History Questions Answered, a series of history related articles. If you have questions about Montavilla’s past that you’d like answered, local historian Patricia Sanders will investigate your question. Please email your questions to history@montavilla.net and we may feature it alongside Patricia Sanders’ research in a future.
7123 NE Glisan Street began as the Shreiner bakery
7123 NE Glisan St reconstruction in progress (Jacob Loeb)
7123 NE Glisan St before reconstruction (Jacob Loeb)
This two-story building on the north side of Glisan Street is being transformed. Crews built the wood-frame 7123 NE Glisan Street storefront for John Shreiner’s business in 1912. Born in Indianapolis in 1854, this son of German immigrants settled in Portland around 1896. In 1913, he opened a bakery on the first floor of this new building on NE Glisan. He and his wife Catherine lived on the second floor.
Photo of John Jacob Shreiner
Computer enhancement of John Jacob Shreiner photo
In the 1920s, the Shreiner bakery also sold some groceries and confectioneries. Apparently, the business ran smoothly until, on Sunday, August 21, 1921, two bandits entered the store, flashed a revolver, and drove Shreiner into a back room where they beat him violently. They stole $60 from the cash register and fled. Shriner was taken to St. Vincent’s Hospital and treated for a broken jaw and lacerations.
7123 NE Glisan St reconstruction in progress (Jacob Loeb)
John continued operating his store on Glisan until his death in 1929. Since then, a succession of varied businesses has occupied the building, including a washing machine repair shop, a carburetor service location, a car supplies store, a bicycle shop, and an appliance store.
By
Patricia Sanders
Montavilla History Tidbits is a series of focused history-related articles by local historian Patricia Sanders. Please email your questions to history@montavilla.net, and Patricia Sanders may research them for a future article or tidbit.
Editor’s note: This article uses the spelling of John Jacob Shreiner to match his signed 1914 voter registration. The 1913 Portland City directory also uses the spelling Shreiner, as do news reports. It is an anglicized spelling of his German name, sometimes written as Schreiner, adopted by some families after immigration.
In 1915, veteran journalist James Irving Crabbe (1845-1922) saw a new opportunity. He’d been living in Montavilla for about a year on NE 74th and had a chance to engage with a community bent on improvement. Through group effort, Montavillans had gained a stable water supply and a local fire station. Most streets had been graded—if not paved—and most had concrete sidewalks. Neighborhood organizations were agitating for more improvements, like better streetcar service and paving major east-west roads, Barr (now Halsey), Stark and Glisan. Montavilla’s population was growing and thriving. In fact, The Oregonian deemed it one of Portland’s most prosperous suburbs on the east side in its March 15, 1914 edition.
Groundbreaking on Glisan Street for the sewer line extension in Montavilla. In the center: William DeVeny–community activist and Buffalo Bill lookalike—next to Montavilla Board of Trade president, W. H. Hamilton. The Sunday Oregonian, April 23, 1915
Montavilla boosters’ most recent victory—after years of agitation—was extending the city sewer system within Montavilla. To celebrate, the Montavilla Board of Trade hosted a victory celebration at the Montavilla School on February 19, 1915. Crabbe was a member of the Board by then, helped plan the event, and was one of the speakers, along with Portland mayor H. Russell Albee. Crabbe spoke on the value of community cooperation.
Five weeks after the victory celebration, Crabbe launched The Montavilla Sun weekly newspaper. It was no doubt appreciated by many Montavillans since Montavilla had been without substantial local news coverage since the folding of The Beaver State Herald in 1914. That newspaper had its office in Montavilla and its printing plant in Gresham. It focused on east-side news.
Nameplate of the first edition of The Montavilla Sun, March 12, 1915 Source: The Montavilla Sun microfilm, Knight Library, University of Oregon
The Montavilla Sun’s publisher was a seasoned journalist. Born in Britain in 1845, Crabbe began his long newspaper career soon after he emigrated to the U.S. in 1871. By the time he moved from St. Louis to Portland in 1911, Crabbe could claim a 40-year career in the newspaper business. He had worked for several newspapers in the Midwest and South as a reporter, editor, and publisher.
Portrait of James Irving Crabbe (1845-1922) by illustrator S. Carlisle Martin (1967-1932) Source: “The St. Louis Post-Dispatch,” March 2, 1905
Computer enhanced Portrait of James Irving Crabbe based on S. Carlisle Martin illustratation
After arriving in Portland, he published The Portland Realty Index for the Portland Realty Board. At the same time, he was also practicing his second vocation: illustrated public lectures. He had been speaking on a variety of topics for as long as he had worked in the newspaper trade. One popular topic was Burma and Buddhism.
Crabbe had learned about Buddhism directly from Buddhist monks when, as a young man, he worked for the British Colonial Service in Burma during the 1860s. From 1871 on, he gave many lectures on Buddhism, Burma, India, as well as several other topics in numerous American cities, including downtown Portland and Montavilla. He planned—and presumably gave—a slide-illustrated lecture on India in Montavilla at Grebel’s Hall on Stark Street on June 5, 1915. His talk on India would include Buddhism, according to his May 28. In an interview with an Oregon Journal reporter, Crabbe said he considered himself a Christian Buddhist.
Detail of a full-length article in the May 28, 1915 edition of The Montavilla Sun describing Crabbe’s on India
The Montavilla Sun was a four-page weekly. Subscriptions cost five cents an issue.
It went to press Thursday at noon and was mailed to subscribers that evening for delivery on Friday. Besides subscription sales, revenue came from advertising, which appeared on every page. Ads cost businesses ten cents a line. Workers could run four or five lines for free. Advertising copy had to be delivered either to the Fowler drug store on Glisan or the Dickson drug store on Stark.
Partial view of the first issue of The Montavilla New, March 12, 1915. The weekly offered a mixture of news, ads, and entertaining features.
On page one of the first issue of The Montavilla Sun, Crabbe includes a poem by his purported ancestor, the British poet George Crabbe (1754-1832). Called “The Newspaper,” the poem could almost describe the typical content of The Montavilla Sun, which featured things great and small.
The Montavilla Sun, detail of George Crabbe poem “The Newspaper” on page 1 of the first edition.
Did George Crabbe’s poetic reference to the sun inspire the name of this new Montavilla newspaper? Perhaps. But this was also a common newspaper name, including the famous ones published in London and New York.
The Montavilla Sun had something for every reader, even children. There was local news: what was happening at local schools, associations, churches, the library, and sports, to name a few. Crabbe reported on important local initiatives, such as street improvements. He also recommended new Montavilla projects, such as a park and swimming pool. (Unfortunately, Montavilla would have to wait six more years for a park and 15 more years for a pool.) And in the June 18th edition, he noted that while the east side of 80th Street was getting a new sidewalk, the wooden sidewalk on the west side was still in “a shameful condition.”
“Wanted, A Park in Montavilla,” The Montavilla Sun, April 30, 1915, p. 2
Besides news and advocacy, The Montavilla Sun included personal news tidbits and entertaining features–such as his humorous advice column “Letters to Miss Fatima Pink” —as well as jokes for “the kiddies.”
Excerpt from the “Letters to Miss Fatima Pink” column in the March 26, 1915 edition of The Montavilla Sun
“For the Kiddies column detail, The Montavilla Sun, March 26, 1915
News coverage routinely covered what was happening with Montavilla organizations, local churches, and sports. Six churches were covered: Hope Presbyterian, Grace Baptist, Montavilla Episcopalian-Methodist, Seventh Day Adventist, Ascension Catholic Church, the Reorganized Latter-Day Saints, and the Christian Church.
“Montavilla Churches” column detail, The Montavilla Sun, April 2, 1915.
“Our Baseball Team” column ran during baseball season. Source: The Montavilla Sun, May 7, 1915
For incidental news—sometimes mixed with promotions or ads—the Sun reader could turn to the “Local and Personal” column on page four. Crabbe sometimes slipped in a few personal reports and ads disguised as personal reports.
Snippets from the April 9 and April 16 editions of The Montavilla Sun
The Montavilla Sun also included features purely for entertainment–poems, short stories, jokes, etc. A regular column, “Letters to Miss Fatima Pink,” offered humorous advice to the lovelorn.
Excerpt from the “Letters to Miss Fatima Pink” column, The Montavilla Sun, April 16, 1915.
Crabbe may have adopted the name “Fatima” from a brand of Turkish cigarettes popular in the early 20th century. Crabbe, a self-proclaimed lifelong smoker, published a book on the topic in 1920, where he promoted the health benefits of tobacco.
“The Montavilla Sun” printed a regular column just for children.
“For the Kiddies” column detail in The Montavilla Sun, March 26, 1915
The Montavilla Sun published features on health and beauty:
“Health and Beauty” column detail, The Montavilla Sun, July 18, 1915
If news and regular features were in short supply, Crabbe had plenty of “fillers” —games, poems, educational trivia, puzzles, and images—to fill the gaps.
The latest issue of The Montavilla Sun on the University of Oregon Knight Library’s microfilm is the June 18, 1915 edition. But was this the final edition? The issue contains no announcement of discontinuation, no farewell editorial—although there is a tirade against capitalists who refused to invest in local enterprises. In this issue, Crabbe was still soliciting advertising and subscriptions. He was still asking people to submit news items by Wednesday morning. So perhaps The Montavilla Sun endured a little longer.
Whenever The Montavilla Sun ceased publication—and for whatever reason—by early 1916 Crabbe had moved from Montavilla to the Sellwood neighborhood. But this was not to retire. If anything, he seemed busier than ever.
Crabbe’s June 18 editorial may suggest a change in direction for Crabbe. He continued to be a journalist, but now for labor-oriented publications. Polk’s 1918 Portland city directory lists him as associate editor of The Mediator, a labor magazine. In 1918, this publication was involved in a controversy over an article—not by Crabbe—that was condemned as pro-Prussian and banned by the Portland public library board. Also labor-related, in 1918, Crabbe compiled and edited a book titled Shipbuilders’ Dictionary and Sailors’ Wordbook. The United Metal Trades Association published it to assist young shipyard workers. Unrelated, but continuing his advocacy of tobacco for purported health benefits, his book Tobacconalia was published in 1920.
Title page from Tobacconalia by James Irving Crabbe. Source: Google books
Besides continuing to write, Crabbe also continued to lecture. And he continued another long avocation: musical performance. A singer and pianist himself, he had been active in choral groups long before coming to Portland. In 1902, for example, he was the business manager of the St. Paul Choral Club. In 1905, he tried to create a national choir organization, and he compiled a songbook called Famous Ballads and Good Old Songs. In Portland, he became the secretary-treasurer of the new National Choral League.
This man of boundless energy and many talents died in Portland on August 9, 1922, of arteriosclerosis. You might suspect tobacco use was to blame. If so, at age 76 he surpassed the 1922 average life expectancy for American males, 58.4 years.
“The Montavilla Sun” is on microfilm at the University of Oregon’s Knight Library. The Oregon Historical Society library has the March 12, 1915, April 2, 1915, April 9, 1915, and April 16, 1915 issues in its collection.
Updated September 9th, 2026 with Oregon Historical Society library information.
By
Patricia Sanders
This is part of Montavilla History Questions Answered, a series of history related articles. If you have questions about Montavilla’s past that you’d like answered, local historian Patricia Sanders will investigate your question. Please email your questions to history@montavilla.net and we may feature it alongside Patricia Sanders’ research in a future.
The Montavilla Farmers’ Market began in 2007, but this is not Montavilla’s first such market. The earliest one opened in a nearby location on July 7, 1914. Back then—whether large or small—such markets were called public markets. But the economics were similar: farmers sold directly to their customers rather than to a middleman. That meant better profits for farmers and better prices for customers.
Produce from the Montavilla School garden was for sale at the Montavilla public market in 1914 and 1915. Photo courtesy of the Oregon Historical Society
In the early 20th century, a well-known example of a large public market was Seattle’s Pike Place Market. So popular was this market that on opening day, August 17, 1907, produce was sold out by lunchtime. Within three months, this Seattle market had its own building.
Seattle Post-Intelligencer cartoon shows direct selling from farmer to consumer at Pike Place Market on opening day, August 17, 1907. Cartoon by George Hager. Source: Wikipedia Commons
Portland didn’t get on the public market bandwagon until 1912. At that time, there was a big push to establish a large public market in the City. Had it passed, the bond measure on the 1912 ballot would have financed a large building. It lost by a mere 493 votes.
Portland’s Times newspaper advocated the establishment of public markets—from large to small—in various parts of the city as a way to cut the profits of the middlemen. They called for large markets on the east side and west side of the Willamette. They also advocated for neighborhood markets in Montavilla, as well as Albina, St. Johns, Sellwood, Kenton, Arleta, and Woodstock.
Portland’s Times newspaper of November 1, 1912 predicted the public market bond issue would pass. It did not. Source: Historic Oregon Newspapers
Although the 1912 ballot measure failed, local interest in public markets persisted, and in 1914, another push to establish public markets in Portland emerged. At this time, there is evidence that Montavilla’s interest in a public market was rising. Two Montavilla businessmen—A. N. Searle of the Montavilla Board of Trade and Dr. C. B. Zeebuyth of the Montavilla Civic League—served on the Progressive Business Men’s Club committee assigned to study the public market issue.
In Montavilla, public market advocates were pushing for a Montavilla public market in 1914. The Montavilla Civic League said it favored opening parts of the neighborhood’s suburban streets for farmers to market their goods. The League invited Josephine R. Sharp, a well-known advocate for neighborhood public markets, to speak at their April meeting. At this time, Mrs. Sharp was helping to establish a public market in the Alberta neighborhood. Meanwhile, Montavilla activist Sarah H. Wilder was advising the Montavilla Parent Teachers’ Association to organize a public market similar to the one about to open in Alberta.
Josephine R. Sharp, advocate of neighborhood public markets, spoke to Montavilla Civic League members in April, 1914. Photo from the Oregon Daily Journal of May 24, 1916
Montavilla public market enthusiasts were probably encouraged by the success of the new Yamhill Street market, which opened in downtown Portland on May 16, 1914. The huge market had 300 feet of booths lining the street. On opening day, thousands gathered to watch the opening-day parade and then headed for the stalls. The farmers’ offerings were sold out in less than an hour and a half, according to the May 17 Oregonian.
Opening day of the downtown Yamhill Street Market. Source: The Sunday Oregonian, May 17, 1914 (Historic Oregon Newspapers)
In June, 1914, two Montavilla School students sold their own produce in the children’s section of the Yamhill Street market.
Montavilla students in their stall in the children’s section of the Yamhill Street public market. Source: Oregonian, June 27, 1914 (Historic Oregon Newspapers)
Montavilla public market advocates may also have been encouraged by the success of the Albina neighborhood market on Knott Street. On the second day of this market, 10 to 15 wagons filled with farm products arrived and quickly sold out, according to the Oregonian of May 3, 1914.
You might wonder why the Montavilla PTA—rather than a community activist group—spearheaded a Montavilla public market project. No information came to light about this. Perhaps the Montavilla School garden was a factor. Produce from this garden could—and would—supplement what local farmers and neighborhood gardeners provided. Produce from all three sources were on sale in the actual Montavilla market, according to newspaper accounts.
The Montavilla School Garden viewed from the school building (date unknown). Photo courtesy of the Oregon Historical Society
The Montavilla market was scheduled to premiere on Tuesday, July 7, at the corner of Stark and 81st. But when the PTA farmers’ market committee members arrived to set up the six display booths built by Montavilla students, they had vanished. They began to search and finally found them in a nearby alley. They had them assembled by the time the first customers arrived at 6 p.m. Opening day was a success. When the market ended at 10 am, all the produce—including the school’s bumper popcorn crop—had sold.
The Montavilla market continued throughout the summer on Tuesdays and Saturdays. In its August 3, 1914 edition, the Oregonian declared the Montavilla market a success.
On June 22, 1915, the Montavilla PTA held a mass meeting to consider whether the market should continue. The answer was “yes.” This time, a market association with a board of officers was formed. The market would again be held on Tuesdays and Saturdays, but it would open half an hour later, at 6:30 p.m.
The 1915 Montavilla market opened on June 29 in a slightly different location: 79th Street on the north side of Stark. Now there were ten booths instead of six. And there was a big sign on Stark to call attention to the market. As before, the market offered produce grown by school children and teachers, private gardeners, and farmers. The Oregon Journal of June 30, 1915, listed the farmers’ offerings: peas, carrots, beets, turnips, new potatoes, and cherries.
Was this the last Montavilla public market? It is not clear, but I found no further press coverage. The Alberta market celebrated its third anniversary in 1917, but then, it too, faded from the press.
Montavilla School garden during World War I, 1918. Source: Portland City Archives, P/11266
Whether or not the Montavilla market continued, the Montavilla School garden did. And it was greatly enlarged and produced food to support the war effort. But that’s another story…
By
Patricia Sanders
Title image digitally restored
This is part of Montavilla History Questions Answered, a series of history related articles. If you have questions about Montavilla’s past that you’d like answered, local historian Patricia Sanders will investigate your question. Please email your questions to history@montavilla.net and we may feature it alongside Patricia Sanders’ research in a future.
In 1911, Montavilla held its first “safe and sane” Independence Day celebration. In that year, Portland joined the national effort to reduce July Fourth deaths and injuries—to both adults and children–caused by various types of pyrotechnics. In 1903, when the national campaign began, Independence Day celebrations across the country resulted in 466 deaths and 4,449 injuries. As “safe and sane” policies were adopted city after city and as safer activities replaced dangerous ones, injuries and deaths began to fall. By 1911, Portland was among the 161 cities holding safe-and-sane events.
Headline in the Oregonian of July 4, 1911 Source: Historic Oregon Newspapers
Montavilla’s July 4th celebration began with a parade. It started at the intersection of NE 80th Avenue and NE Glisan Street, then proceeded to Stark Street. The Grand Marshall, William DeVeny (1853-1918) —Montavilla’s Buffalo Bill look-alike — led the way on horseback. This honor was typically bestowed upon a renowned community leader, and he was certainly that. He was living in Montavilla by 1899 and, from then on — as an active member of the Montavilla Sub-Board of Trade — he was in the forefront of practically every Montavilla improvement effort in the early 1900s.
Grand Marshall William DeVeny-as he appeared in an ad for his chiropodist business. Source: Immaculata Academy (Portland, Or.) Yearbook
Men on horseback led the parade, followed by a line of automobiles. One of the cars held the Goddess of Liberty—an Independence Day staple–and her entourage. The Goddess was elected in a contest for the prettiest and most popular young woman in Montavilla. At a penny a vote, 18-year-old Caroline Buehler was elected Montavilla’s goddess for the 1911 celebration. She garnered 12,480 votes, far ahead of the runner-up, Luly Bryson, who received only 1,768. It was “the most exciting contest held in Montavilla,” the Oregonian proclaimed, and it raised a little over $200.
Miss Caroline Buehler was elected the Goddess of Liberty for Montavilla’s 1911 Independence Day celebration.
Other neighborhoods—like Mt. Tabor—held their Independence Day events in public parks. In 1911, Montavilla did not yet have a park, so the day’s festivities were held at the new Altamead subdivision, which had not yet put lots on the market.
Google map detail with the Altamead subdivision boundaries superimposed.
All of Portland was invited to Montavilla’s grand celebration. Newspapers estimated that from 1500 to 2500 attended.
A band was playing as people arrived at the Altamead. Master of Ceremonies, John M. Conway – of the Montavilla Board of Trade—welcomed them to a sane and safe July 4th celebration.
The program began with a speech by Robert C. Wright of Mount Tabor, a well-known attorney and a Republican politician. Instead of a patriotic speech, he addressed a current Montavilla issue. Since Montavilla did not have a purpose-built public library, the Montavilla Board of Trade was seeking a Carnegie library grant. Wright spoke against this. He spoke of the dangers of the accumulation of vast wealth. Andrew Carnegie may be a philanthropist, but he was a steel-industry monopolist. The Republican Party, under the recent president Theodore Roosevelt and the current president William Howard Taft, tried to break up industrial monopolies.
Robert C. Wright, Oregonian, Feb. 22, 1914. Source Historic Oregon Newspapers
Clearly, the Montavilla July Fourth celebration was a community-building event as well as a commemoration of the beginning of America’s break with Britain. The formal program ended with the Goddess of Liberty witnessing the American flag as it rose to the tune of the “Star-Spangled Banner.”
After the formal program, it was on to the picnic and the games: races, baseball, a tug-of-war, a greased pig chase, and prizes awarded by Rev. Father James Fitzpatrick, pastor of the nearby Church of the Ascension.
Montavilla Independence Day Parade on Stark Street, 1911
Montavilla Parade on Stark Street, 1911 digitally colorized
The celebration ended in the evening with a band concert and fireworks rising, safely, over the unbuilt subdivision land. Even the weather cooperated for the sane and safe celebration. It was, after all, a perfect, balmy day in contrast to the killer heat wave that plagued the eastern half of the United States.
It was a grand—and safe—Independence Day in Montavilla.
By
Patricia Sanders
Title image digitally restored
This is part of Montavilla History Questions Answered, a series of history related articles. If you have questions about Montavilla’s past that you’d like answered, local historian Patricia Sanders will investigate your question. Please email your questions to history@montavilla.net and we may feature it alongside Patricia Sanders’ research in a future.
The Lincoln Memorial through the lens of 1922 media
Sunday, May 21, 1922, was going to be another sweltering day in Portland. So, 89-year-old Civil War veteran James Downing decided to read his copy of the Oregonian under a shade tree in his backyard. He had just returned from the Montavilla Methodist Episcopal Church morning service, where a fellow veteran had told him about an illustrated story on the new Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C. In his eagerness to see it, Downing skipped the front-page news about the Ku Klux Klan and Oregon politics and went straight to the magazine section.
There, he studied the photos of the gigantic statue of Lincoln and the temple-like building that housed it. He read, once again, the stirring words of Lincoln’s Gettysburg address inscribed on a huge marble tablet. Memories of those war-torn years came flooding back. How often had he shared his Civil War experiences with fellow members of the Montavilla McKinley Post of the Grand Army of the Republic? He also recalled his early days in Portland, when he went downtown to view the huge panoramic painting commemorating the bloody battle at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.
This little story is, of course, fiction. But the facts are true.
James Downing (1837-1927)
James Downing (1837-1927) was a real person who served in the Civil War on the Union side. As a young man, he enlisted in Missouri’s 3rd Cavalry. He did live in Montavilla, arriving in 1890 and opening a grocery store here. In 1891, he became Montavilla’s first postmaster. And he was a member of the McKinley Post of the Grand Army of the Republic, a national association of Union Civil War veterans. And he attended Montavilla’s Methodist Episcopal Church on SE 80th Avenue until his death.
There really was a huge panoramic painting in downtown Portland illustrating the Battle of Gettysburg. The circular painting occupied a purpose-built structure and was open to the public from 1887 to 1892.
There really was anarticle about the Lincoln Memorial in the May 21, 1922, edition of the Oregonian, as well as many column inches on page one devoted to Oregon politics and the Klan. And, yes, the newspaper really did predict a high of 85 degrees on that day.
James Downing was one of eight Civil War veterans whom I could positively identify as still being alive in 1922 when the long-awaited Lincoln Memorial was finally built. As far as I know, none of these veterans attended the dedication ceremony in Washington. So, like James, they would have experienced it vicariously through the Portland press.
Today we get our news through a variety of media, but in 1922, it mostly came in print and photos. Although, as we’ll see, that was beginning to change.
Portland newspapers were covering the Lincoln Memorial story by April 23, 1922, a little over a month before its dedication on May 30. The April 23 edition of the Oregon Journal informed readers that the Memorial was on an axis stretching from the Capitol to the Washington Monument to the recently dedicated U.S. Grant equestrian statue and finally to the new Lincoln Memorial. The alignment connected a critical institution and persons in American history.
Detail of the Lincoln Memorial in The Morning Oregonian of May 21, 1922. Source: Historic Oregon Newspapers
In the May 21, 1922, edition of the Oregonian, readers could view a half-page of fuzzy images and a little text in the magazine section. They marvel at the weight of the Lincoln statue—175 tons. They could see that the Gettysburg Address was carved into a huge white marble tablet.
Photographs of the Lincoln Memorial on page 4 of the May 21, 1922 Sunday Oregonian
Two days before the dedication ceremony, the Sunday Oregonian of May 28, 1922, informed readers that the 2,000-foot reflecting pool had taken ten years to build and was designed to symbolically join the Washington and Lincoln monuments. The article explained the symbolism of the Lincoln building: 36 columns represent the states that existed in Lincoln’s time; the festoons above the columns acknowledge the states in 1922. The reader learned that the Lincoln statue was 19 feet high and that sculptor Daniel Chester French took 4 years to complete it.
In its August 20, 1922, edition, Oregonian readers were treated to a photo of the Lincoln Memorial illuminated at night by an Army searchlight.
The illuminated Lincoln Memorial. The Sunday Oregonian, August 20, 1922
The printed press, with its words and images, was not the only way to convey information about the Lincoln Memorial. New forms—such as movies—had been appearing since the late 19th century. In June, 1922, the Pantages theater in downtown Portland screened a film about the dedication of the Lincoln Memorial, which the Oregonian described as “impressive and inspiring.”
In 1922, broadcast radio was also emerging as cutting-edge technology. The Oregonian of May 30, 1922, announced that speeches by President Harding and Chief Justice Taft delivered at the Lincoln Memorial dedication ceremony would be broadcast in the U.S. from the Naval Aircraft Radio Laboratory in Anacostia, Washington, D.C. By this time, both the Oregonian and the Oregon Journal had recently begun radio broadcasting, but it’s unclear whether the Naval broadcast signal made it to Portland. It is clear, however, that the “radio craze” marked a new era of electronic communication and would change the ways we receive and process the news to this day.
Ad for a “Table Talker” in the August, 1924 edition of Radio News. Table talkers as well as headsets were used in the 1920s to amplify radio sound.
As the “radio craze” caught on, a store selling radios opened in Montavilla in 1927 at the corner of 90th and Stark. Mr. H. A. Hall’s store—built in the shape of a radio—was such a sensation that police were called in to control the turnout.
Ad for the Hall Spiral Antenna Company in the November 3, 1927 edition of the Montavilla Times. The building is shaped like an Orpheus radio.
For veterans of the long-ago Civil War, the new era of electronic communication must have seemed a strange new world indeed.
By
Patricia Sanders
This is part of Montavilla History Questions Answered, a series of history related articles. If you have questions about Montavilla’s past that you’d like answered, local historian Patricia Sanders will investigate your question. Please email your questions to history@montavilla.net and we may feature it alongside Patricia Sanders’ research in a future.
In 2025, after a 12-year run downtown, the annual Archaeology Roadshow moved its educational and interactive showcase across the river to East Portland. For the second year, the organizers are taking over the grassy field at Gateway Discovery Park, 10520 NE Halsey Street, this May 30th with a theme of “Fire & Water.” Historians, members of universities, Tribes, government agencies, museums, and nonprofit cultural organizations will present over 30 exhibits at this free event from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m., sharing presentations and answering questions from inquisitive attendees. People can drop in anytime during the four-hour un-ticketed event. However, some presentations occur at specific times, including an opening “welcome blessing.”
This year’s Portland show features exhibits and hands-on activities demonstrating how fire and water are “fundamental to the human story for all times and places.” It features exhibits that showcase how the region’s Indigenous people engineered effective waterproofing technologies using materials crafted from the environment. People can practice using friction from a bow drill to build a fire, make stone tools, or throw a replica of an ancient spear. Attendees will also learn how ancient Ice Age floods shaped Portland landscapes in ways modern residents can still observe. Exhibitors will explain how Indigenous people and recent settlers managed water and fire to thrive in the watery and fire-prone Pacific Northwest region and expressed a deep connection to water and fire through arts and crafts.
Student exhibitors Phil Daily and Dianna Wilson 2017, courtesy Archaeology Roadshow (Photo Corey James)
Virginia Butler, with the Archaeology Roadshow, explained that the event’s name is a homage to the PBS series Antiques Roadshow, which invites people to bring items for expert evaluation. Students working on the inaugural Portland event wanted people to make the connection to the TV show because the Archaeology Roadshow similarly allows attendees to bring up to three objects for expert examination, with the experts attempting to determine the objects’ ages and possible functions. Unlike the TV show, volunteers at this event do not offer appraisals; they help people connect to the history contained in those objects. Presentations cover the full span of human existence in the region, and organizers try not to set date limits on what constitutes archaeology. “Science can tell us people have probably been in this area for over 15,000 years. But the Indigenous perspective suggests you can’t really put a time on it because some of their origin stories say they’ve been here forever,” said Butler.
The Archaeology Roadshow embraces all phases of human settlement in the region and aims to offer visitors an experience that entertains and informs them about that shared history through activities and face-to-face engagement. The Archaeology Roadshow began in 2012 at Portland State University, driven by the university’s desire to expose students to public outreach practices through a campus event. The yearly event expanded beyond Portland in 2017, when the roadshow opened in Harney County, with shows in Burns and Hines featuring regional exhibitors and historical societies. Post-pandemic, they have continued to expand into places like the Dalles and Bend.
Exhibitor with visitor 2025, courtesy Archaeology Roadshow (Photo Lucy Behrens)
Butler noted that the Archaeology Roadshow is more than an informative event. It is a valuable tool in connecting organizations and municipalities to understand the importance of historical preservation as communities grow. “This kind of work is really about relationships. The Archaeology Roadshow builds relationships at different levels between the organizations doing this work. Every time you start digging in the ground, you might open up and identify some archaeology. There’s a lot of effort to ensure that we don’t lose historical knowledge as we go forth with development.” The organizing group wants to convey the ethics and legal aspects of artifact collecting in context, its importance to people, and its significance beyond regulation. “We want to emphasize that when you simply dig into what may seem to be an archaeological site and remove objects, you’re losing the context. We lose our ability to understand the broader meanings of what those artifacts mean relative to each other. We’re also harming descendant communities that might have special connections to those places. So we convey some of the ethics and the legal aspects of collecting,” said Butler.
Two children starting a fire 2016, courtesy Archaeology Roadshow (Photo Kendal McDonald)
Overall, the roadshow project aims to expand people’s understanding of archaeology, a field often shaped by movies and school field trips. “I think most people think that archaeology is exciting; there’s an adventure and an explorer level to it. The Indiana Jones image is about finding things, and a lot of people think archaeology is a treasure hunt. I hope people come and realize it’s so much more than that. Archaeology is everywhere. History is happening everywhere. We are so much richer if we understand it, and we feel much more connected to a place if we understand its history,” said Butler. “People will walk in with one concept of archaeology, and then it’s going to get a lot bigger because of the cultural connections.”
Event organizers hope the Archaeology Roadshow’s move to East Portland has opened the event to more organizations and residents who do not always have the opportunity to engage with history in a hands-on, dynamic environment. Within the exhibits, guests will find people demonstrating skills, with the option to participate. Anyone interested in history will also find booths filled with people offering a museum’s worth of information, including Montavilla News contributor Patricia Sanders, who will join Paul Leistner from Mt. Tabor in sharing neighborhood history. Gateway Discovery Park is a fully accessible facility, and event staff will have translators available for Spanish speakers throughout the event so more people can participate in this community-enriching experience. The annual event is free and open to the public thanks to sponsorship support.
Title image: Chinook Tribal members give opening drum song at the 2025 Portland Archaeology Roadshow with Portland City Council President Jamie Dunphy for District 1, left (Lucy Behrens)
Doing laundry using a machine washer. Source: Delineator magazine, July, 1927
In the early 20th century, Monday was typically washday for American housewives. It was an all-day affair, even if you were one of the few who owned a powered washing machine. Home laundry required multiple steps: rubbing each item with soap, soaking it in hot water, wringing it out, and finally hanging it to dry. Even if you had one of the new-fangled powered washing machines—like the one shown above—this still required multiple steps, eleven according to an article in the Delineator Magazine of July 1927. No wonder washday was often called blue Monday.
For those who could afford it, a local laundry service would do the work for you. Some even had pick-up and delivery service.
Commercial laundry with delivery Source: Ad for Soapalite in the National Laundry Journal, December, 1920
By 1906, housewives had the option of doing laundry at home. At that time, Stevens’ Fancy Grocery on Base Line Road (now Stark Street) was a pickup point for City Laundry located in downtown Portland.
Stevens’ Fancy Grocery ad in the Beaver State Herald of November 30, 1906 Source: Historic Oregon Newspapers.
A few years later, the Acme laundry on Burnside—a little west of Montavilla—offered delivery service for Montavilla customers on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays. This was a wet-wash laundry, that is, a commercial laundry that washed your clothes and sent them back damp for you to dry and iron at home.
Ad for the Acme Washery in The Montavilla Sun of June 4, 1915
A purpose-built laundry in Montavilla proper may have appeared in 1910. According to the Oregonian of October 16, 1910, a group of men had purchased a site on East 80th and had already ordered machinery for a future plant. Unfortunately, I could not find information about whether this laundry was actually built or, if so, how long it was in business.
Whether or not a laundry on 80th Avenue materialized in 1910, we know for sure one was built in Montavillain 1925 for John Charles Fremont Brown (1856-1938). It was located on Glisan at 72nd Avenue. The building still exists, most recently housing O’Neill’s Tools.
John C. F. Brown was not new to the laundry trade. He had worked in the laundry business as a deliveryman from at least 1898 until 1920. He worked for two established downtown Portland laundries: Model Laundry and Palace Laundry. He owned his own delivery vehicle, exchanging his horse-drawn wagon for a motorized truck in 1912.
John C. F. Brown in front of his motorized vehicle around 1912
In 1920, Brown opened his own laundry business at 305 Russell Street between Williams and Rodney Avenues. Three of his sons—Floyd P. Brown (1886-1952), Frank Clair Brown (1895-1945), and Oscar L. Brown (1890-1973)—also worked in this business.
John Brown typically went by John C. F. Brown or J. C. F. Brown, perhaps to avoid confusion with C. F. Brown, who owned the Yale Laundry in downtown Portland.
This 1924 Sanborn map shows the location of Brown’s laundry at 305 Russell Street. The building no longer exists.
The Sanborn map describes Brown’s business as a wet-wash laundry. But Portland city directories list both Brown’s Wet Wash Laundry and Brown’s Towel Supply at this address.
As indicated earlier, a wet-wash laundry offered only washing services. A towel laundry, on the other hand, provided clean “linens” for businesses such as hotels, hospitals, restaurants, and gyms. A towel laundry delivered clean items and picked up the soiled ones for washing and pressing. To make sure soiled items returned matched the number previously delivered, the deliveryman had to keep an accurate count. In 1923, John’s son Frank noticed a shortage in the number of dirty items he was picking up from a surgeon’s office. When Frank mentioned this, the client punched him in the eye. Frank took him to court, where the surgeon was found guilty and fined $50.
In 1925, Brown’s towel service remained on Russell Street, but he moved his wet-wash business into a new building in Montavilla. It was located on the north side of Glisan at NE 72nd. With this new location, the corporate name for the business changed from Brown’s Damp Wash Laundry to The General Laundry Company. It was ready for occupancy sometime after the final plumbing inspection on June 16, 1925.
Photo of a damp-wash laundry–not Brown’s—showing the use of powered washing machines. Source: January 19, 1920 edition of the National Laundry and Cleaning Journal
The new laundry was built of brick—a wise choice, since the boilers posed a fire risk. Brown and his sons were probably aware of the fire that almost destroyed the Consolidated Wet Wash Laundry on Halsey Street, caused by an overheated boiler. The wood-frame building was almost completely destroyed.
Like most general laundries, Brown’s probably employed mostly women. The work was hard, and wages were typically low. At a wet-wash laundry, items were marked, sorted, washed, and wrung out. By 1917, a woman’s workday was limited to eight hours, but it still meant a lot of standing on concrete floors in a very hot, humid environment. Housewives may have been relieved of the washday blues, but laundry workers experienced them every day.
In October 1919, Portland laundresses went on strike, demanding better pay. Sometimes they were the sole support for their families, according to Portland’s Labor Press. Several sworn testimonials by the striking women describing their circumstances were published in that newspaper’s October 18, 1919, edition. Here is one example:
Testimonial by Lettie Stinson published in the Labor Press of October 18, 1919
Whether labor conditions at Brown’s laundry were better or worse is unknown. But he undoubtedly expected his business to succeed. He could afford a new building in Montavilla, so presumably the Russell Street laundry was doing well. The American laundry industry was growing rapidly in the 1920s, reflecting a growing demand and increased receipts.
Detail of a chart showing growth of the American power laundry industry in dollars between 1909 and 1929. Source: Joan S. Wang, “Race, Gender, and Laundry Work: The Roles of Chinese Laundrymen and American Women in the United States, 1850-1950,” Journal of American Ethnic History, 2004
Despite hopeful prospects, Brown’s Glisan-Street business failed. In December 1927, the General Laundry Company declared bankruptcy. Why this business failed is unknown. It was almost two years before the stock market crash of October 28, 1929. Whatever the cause, the plant equipment, supplies, and real property were auctioned on January 17, 1928.
Bankruptcy auction for the General Laundry Company. Oregonian, January 17, 1928
Although the Glisan-Street business did not succeed, Brown’s Towel Service survived for many years. It was still in business in 1943, operating at a new location on East Flanders Street.
Ad in the Northwest Journal of Dentistry, December, 1931
While the Brown family’s towel service lasted into the 1940s, many commercial laundry services declined during the Depression. Fewer families could afford this service. After World War II, home washers and dryers became more affordable, reducing the need for laundry services. If you could not afford your own equipment, you could find washers and dryers for personal use in laundromats, which became increasingly popular in the 1950s.
O’Neill’s Tool and Equipment company in the 1925 building
What happened to Brown’s building in Montavilla? After the laundry closed in 1927, Leonard Betz (1897-1957) purchased the building and opened his Fancy Dry Cleaners in June, 1932. The most recent occupant of Brown’s brick building was O’Neill’s Tools & Equipment store. In 2024, the building was sold for $1,010,000 to Tool Building, LLC.
Rendering of a remodeled version of the original Brown laundry building. Courtesy of Bill Neburka EAO
Soon, the historic building will have a new look, a new purpose, and a new life. The BAM collective is currently transforming it into a modern space to house several local businesses.
By
Patricia Sanders
This is part of Montavilla History Questions Answered, a series of history related articles. If you have questions about Montavilla’s past that you’d like answered, local historian Patricia Sanders will investigate your question. Please email your questions to history@montavilla.net and we may feature it alongside Patricia Sanders’ research in a future.
You might expect that Roscoe’s—the popular pub and restaurant at the corner of SE 81st Avenue and SE Stark Street—would be named for one of its owners. But no. Neither Jeremy Lewis nor Quyen Ly is a Roscoe.
According to current lore, Roscoe’s is named for the ghost of a man who died nearby and now haunts the premises.
History offers a different answer. Before Lewis and Ly opened Roscoe’s, there had been a previous restaurant and bar also named Roscoe’s in the same building. The first Roscoe’s opened in 1997. It was owned by John Hurst and Mike Winczeiwski. They chose a name common in the Hurst family tree. Hurst’s father and grandfather were both named Roscoe Patterson Hurst. His brother William used Rosco as a middle name.
Roscoe P. Hurst Jr. obituary. Source: Oregonian, May 6, 2005
The first Roscoe’s was smaller than today’s Roscoe’s. It occupied only what is now the middle area of the current Roscoe’s. That sounds strange until we realize that the 1910 building was originally divided into three separate commercial spaces.
The first Roscoe’s occupied what is now the middle section of the current Roscoe’s. Photo by Jacob Loeb
The 1910 building was designed by the architectural firm of Roberts and Roberts for the Ukase Investment Company. They divided the building into three separate spaces, which could be used by three different businesses, each with its own Stark Street address. Partition walls could be removed to create a larger space if needed.
The brick pilasters between the banks of plate-glass windows reflect the three-part division of the interior. Photo by Jacob Loeb
When the Ukase building went up in 1910, there was a lot of new construction taking place on Stark Street. Builders were replacing commercial structures destroyed in the July 4th, 1910, fire between 80th and 79th Avenues. To avoid future fire damage, builders used brick or concrete. You can still see the original brick construction in Roscoe’s back hallway.
Roscoe’s original brick construction in the hallway to the right of the bar. Photo by Jacob Loeb
Over the years, the Ukase building was occupied by a wide array of businesses. The interior looked quite different when the Montavilla Savings Bank—one of the earliest tenants—opened in May 1913. The Oregon Journal of May 11th, 1913, described it as “elegantly fitted up with fixtures of mahogany, marble, and bronze.”
“Montavilla Bank Opens with Excellent Prospects.” Inset profiles: President Lee Arnett (upper right) and cashier H. L. Smith (lower left). Source: Oregon Journal, May 11, 1913
At noon on September 3rd, 1919, what happened in the bank must have looked like something out of a silent movie. Two robbers armed with pistols walked into the bank and demanded cash. Teller William Burg refused their request, and bookkeeper George Pickering fired three shots with his revolver to attract attention. The frightened robbers scurried to their getaway car and sped down Stark Street.
These Montavilla Bank employees foiled an attempted robbery. From left to right, they are William Burg, teller, L. G. Mconnell, cashier, and George Pickering, bookkeeper. Source: The Oregonian, September 4, 1919
In 1924, the Montavilla Bank vacated the Ukase building and moved into its new brick building at the northeast corner of 80th and Stark. (Today, the same—but remodeled—building is occupied by the Ya Hala Lebanese restaurant.)
After the bank moved out, Ray Wilson opened his bakery in 1924 and eventually added a grocery store. In 1936, he moved to a larger building across the street at Stark and 80th, where Fred Mayer would later be, and where Lewis Rents is now.
Ad for Ray Wilson’s Puritan Grocery and Bakery. Source: Montavilla Times, February 13, 1931
Over the ensuing years, the individual stores of the Ukase building were home to a variety of small businesses. At different times, between the 1940s and the 1980s, you could find another grocery store, an insurance agency, a shoe store, a real estate office, a women’s apparel store, a mom-and-pop café, and a card shop, to name just a few.
Phils Wear-A-Bouts is one of several businesses once located in what is now Roscoe’s. Source: Oregon Journal, December 19, 1968
In 1997, the first Roscoe’s opened. It offered food, drink, and Wednesday-night comedy.
In 2004, the first Roscoe’s changed hands and reopened as Clifford’s. Clifford’s closed in 2006 just as Stark Street was revitalizing with new businesses, such as the Bipartisan Café (opened in 2005) and the remodeled Academy theater (re-opened in 2006). (Flying Pie Pizza, incidentally, had been in business since 1984).
In 2006, longtime friends Jeremy Lewis and Quyen Ly created a restaurant and bar in the Ukase building. They revived the Roscoe’s name for the pub portion of the operation. (Ly’s adjoining restaurant is Miyamoto Sushi.)
Roscoe’s hardwood floor with old layers of flooring still seen at the right under the bar’s edge. Photo by Jacob Loeb
With businesses in the 1910-Ukase building spanning more than 100 years, it’s not surprising that the current owners had to spend hours removing layers of carpet and tile flooring. A ghost may not have haunted Roscoe’s, but we might say it contains the ghosts of many businesses past.
Roscoe’s – 8105 SE Stark Street, open daily 11 a.m. to 2 a.m.
By
Patricia Sanders
This is part of Montavilla History Questions Answered, a series of history related articles. If you have questions about Montavilla’s past that you’d like answered, local historian Patricia Sanders will investigate your question. Please email your questions to history@montavilla.net and we may feature it alongside Patricia Sanders’ research in a future.
Neighborhood news site focused on buildings and changing businesses
