Category: History

History

Montavilla History Questions Answered: Notable Residents Pt2

Q — Have any notable people lived in Montavilla?

A — Yes. One truly admirable example is the eminent physician and civil rights champion Dr. DeNorval Unthank (1899-1977).

Dr. Unthank lived in Portland from 1930 until his death in 1977. For a short time, in the early 1930s, he and his family made Montavilla their home.

Dr. Unthank with children in Unthank City Park, Portland, Oregon. Photo courtesy of Multnomah County Library

Dr. Unthank was born in Allentown, Pennsylvania, the son of a railroad and hotel cook and the grandson of North Carolina enslaved people. When his mother died in 1909, he was sent to live with his uncle, Dr. Thomas Unthank (1867-1932), a prominent doctor and civil rights advocate in Kansas City, Missouri. DeNorval would follow in his uncle’s footsteps. He chose a career in medicine and graduated from his uncle’s alma mater, the Howard University School of Medicine. He then set up his own practice in Kansas City in 1927. And in Portland, DeNorval Unthank would also be a major civil rights champion.

Sometime in 1929, the young and newly married Dr. Unthank learned that Portland’s Black community was losing its only physician, Dr. James A. Merriman (1870-1946), who was relocating to Phoenix. So, Dr. Unthank decided to move his practice, his nurse wife, Thelma Shipman (1906-1959), and his two-month-old son, DeNorval Unthank Jr., to Portland. He arrived alone the first week of January 1930, and The Advocate, Portland’s African American weekly newspaper, gave Dr. Unthank a page-one welcome.

The Advocate of January 11, 1930, p. 1. Source: Historic Oregon Newspapers

Before he decided to relocate, Dr. Unthank wanted to know if he would be welcome in Portland. To find out, he wrote to the Portland Chamber of Commerce and was assured he and his family would be welcome. 

While Portland’s Black community was grateful for Dr. Unthank’s presence, the doctor soon found that renting office space was another matter. At first, this seemed assured. Dentist Elbert L. Booker agreed to share offices with him in the Panama Building downtown. Dr. Booker had been a tenant there since 1928. But in 1927, as a Black man seeking office space, it took months to find a landlord willing to rent to him. He was turned down 15 times. Unthank and Booker announced the opening of their shared offices in the February 1, 1930 edition of The Advocate. However, when Panama Building tenants protested, Dr. Unthank had to move out, although Dr. Booker was allowed to return to his previous office suite in the Panama Building. Dr. Unthank moved to the nearby Commonwealth Building, then had to move again twice before settling in the downtown Arata Building in 1931.

Announcement of the opening of offices shared by Dr. E. L. Booker and Dr. DeNorval Unthank in the Panama Building in The Advocate, February 1, 1930, p. 1. Source: Historic Oregon Newspapers

Because of the Depression, at first, Dr. Unthank had few patients, and many of these, he later said, were loggers, who were among the few with paying jobs. Income may have been lean, but that did not slow down Dr. Unthank. Within weeks of stepping foot on Portland soil, he spoke on health topics at the Bethel A. M. E. and the Mount Olivet Baptist churches. Dr. Unthank was committed not just to helping people with ailments, he wanted everyone to be healthier. Besides giving speeches, he began publishing a column in The Advocate called “Keeping Fit” in March 1931. In 1932, he organized a Health Week event.

Dr. Unthank published a column called “Keeping Fit” in The Advocate for several months in 1932. Source: The Advocate, March 14, 1931, page 4

Besides his medical practice and health advocacy, he was soon involved in civil rights efforts. He was elected to the local NAACP chapter board of directors in December 1930, then vice president in November 1931, and finally president in 1940. In 1931, he helped to prevent yet another Portland screening of the racist movie “Birth of the Nation.”

Just after arriving in Portland, the Unthank family lodged with Urskin S. Reed, a railroad mail clerk and NAACP member. By June 1930, the Unthanks had moved to Montavilla.

The Unthanks lived in this 1902 house at 212 NE 76th Avenue in Montavilla for several months in 1930. Photo by Thomas Tilton

Although Montavilla was a mostly White community, there had been a small Black population there since at least 1900. The Unthank home had been owned by a Black couple, Prestin and Laura Claybourne, since at least 1920. There were several Black couples in the immediate neighborhood as well as the majority-Black Shiloh Baptist Church just a block away. Many Portland neighborhoods east of the Willamette had similar communities with just a few Black residents in contrast to the denser population of Albina, as shown in the 1936 map below.

This 1936 Portland map shows the distribution of Black-occupied dwellings. The detail on the right shows the distribution in the Montavilla area. The densest population of Albina is in the center of the large map. Source: Portland City Archives 

The Unthanks did not stay long in their first Montavilla home. In the spring of 1931, they bought a house in Westmoreland. Although this was an all-White neighborhood, their realtor assured them they would be welcome. Instead of a welcome, however, the neighborhood presented the Unthanks with a petition asking them to leave. The Unthanks refused. And when they arrived at their new home, all the windows were broken.

The local press covered the Unthank-Westmoreland story blow-by-blow.

The Advocate expressed outrage:

The Advocate, April 25, 1931, page 1

The Oregon Journal was baffled:

Source: The Oregon Journal, April 26,1931, page 10

Things calmed down for a while in Westmoreland until another window-stoning occurred at the end of June. The Unthanks thought the Jones couple next door was responsible, and a shouting match ensued between the two couples. Mrs. Jones accused Mrs. Unthank of threatening to shoot her. The issue ended up in court on July 17. Mrs. Unthank was acquitted.

But enough of Westmoreland was enough. By August 1931, the Unthanks were living with friends, and Mrs. Unthank left for an extended visit with relatives in the Midwest.

For a little over a year, the Unthank family lived in this 1923 house at 221 NE 76th Avenue in Montavilla. Photo by Thomas Tilton

By August 1932, the Unthanks were back in Montavilla and living in a house just across the street from their previous residence. They lived there until at least September 1933. By March 1934, they lived in a rental house on Division Street.

This detail from Portlandmaps shows the locations of the two Unthank Montavilla residences on NE 76th Avenue, first at 212 and later at 221.

In the 1930s, Dr. Unthank’s practice continued to grow. He was so busy, reported The Northwest Enterprise of December 9, 1938, that he wouldn’t even stop for a sprained ankle. Still, he was blocked from practicing at local hospitals and joining medical societies for many years. He was finally admitted to the Emanuel Hospital staff in 1955 and joined its board of directors in 1971.

Despite his busy practice, he still had time for charitable and civic work. In 1940, he opened a day nursery and health clinic for the children of Black workers in collaboration with the St. Vincent de Paul Society of Portland. From 1970-1976, he was the medical consultant to Oregon’s workmen’s compensation board, commuting daily to Salem even though he had retired from practice.

In the 1940s, Dr. Unthank was a major civil rights advocate, drawing attention to racial discrimination in jobs and housing. As head of the Emergency Advisory Council, he advocated for equal opportunities for wartime employees. As the first Black member of Portland’s City Club in 1943, he drew attention to Portland’s discriminatory practices. He co-founded the Portland Urban League, a civil rights and social services organization, in 1945. In 1953, Unthank played a substantial role in the passage of Oregon’s Civil Rights Bill, overturning the Oregon law banning interracial marriages.

Dr. DeNorval Unthank at the time of his retirement. Source: The Oregonian, November 30, 1970

The Oregonian of July 16, 2018, quoted Dr. Unthank’s personal philosophy: “I have always felt in my life that a person should set his own goals and then head toward them. You may have some bad experiences along the way, but if you’re determined you can make it.”

Some of Dr. Unthank Awards 1945-1975

  • 1945 Progressive Democratic Club’s First Citizen award
  • 1958 Doctor of the Year, Oregon Medical Society
  • 1962 Citizen of the Year, Portland chapter of the National Conference of Christians and Jews
  • 1969 dedication of Unthank Park
  • 1971 University of Oregon distinguished citizen award; Metropolitan Human Relations Commissions plaque
  • 1973 B’nai B’rith (Portland Chapter) Brotherhood Award
  • 1975 Concordia College Citizenship Award

The extraordinary life of Dr. DeNorval Unthank deserves a book-length biography. But alas, this does not yet exist.

By

Patricia Sanders


Title image: Dr. DeNorval Unthank, 1950. Courtesy OSU Special Collections & Archives Research Center, Oregon State University. “Portrait of DeNorval Unthank” Oregon Digital

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 post on this page.

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History

Montavilla History Questions Answered: Notable Residents Pt 1

Q — Have any notable people lived in Montavilla?

A — Actually, several notable people have lived in Montavilla, and I will introduce them in several articles, beginning with Annie Miner Peterson.

Photo of Annie Miner Peterson. Source: Iola Larson Collection, Confederated Tribes of Siletz Indians

Annie Peterson (1860-1939) is remembered for her contribution to our knowledge of Northwestern indigenous cultures. She was the last living speaker of the Miluk and Hanis languages. She also remembered and shared her memories of tribal history and lore of the indigenous peoples of the southern Oregon coast. Although she lived in the Coos Bay area most of her life, she resided in Montavilla for about a dozen years. Several accounts of her life have been published, most notably Lionel Youst’s 307-page biography. His title, She’s Tricky Like Coyote, is a translation of her Hanis name, ts’mii-xwn. (Luckily, the Multnomah County Library has copies.)

Annie was born in 1860 in a traditional village on Coos Bay’s South Slough. Her mother was of Hanis and Miluk (aka Coos) blood. The father Annie never knew was British. As White settlers started moving onto tribal lands, the U. S. government forced local indigenous peoples to relocate to the Yachats and then to the Siletz reservations. This is where Annie spent her early years. Conditions on the reservations were harsh. Many died from starvation and diseases. Annie did not attend school. She never learned to read or write. But she was a gifted linguist, and she picked up additional indigenous languages spoken on the reservation. She also learned many traditional crafts, such as basketry. She acquired survival skills such as foraging for local food. And, unlike many young people, she loved listening to the elders reciting their tribal histories and traditional stories. When she reached adolescence, she was sold, according to tribal custom, to her first husband.

Annie left the Siletz reservation in 1877. In 1880, she began living and working in White communities in the Coos Bay area. After enduring decades of poverty and traumatic marriages, her recently widowed friend Ida Wasson (1870-1966) convinced Annie that they should start anew in Portland. They took the new railroad line to the metropolis and found lodging in a boarding house somewhere in Portland. Annie, who was broke, was able to pay for her food and board by doing laundry for the owner. It was here that she met her fifth and final husband, the kindly Carl Peterson (1871-1939), a naturalized Swede.

Carl worked in a logging camp near Kelso, Washington, during the week, and, like other loggers, he liked to go to Portland on weekends to relax. There, he met Annie, fell in love, and asked her to be his wife. She said yes, but first, she needed to divorce her current husband, Charles Baker. She returned to Coos Bay and began the divorce process. Her ex-husband’s situation probably strengthened her case. He was in jail for smuggling alcohol into Oregon, which was then a dry state. Annie was granted a divorce on the grounds of cruelty. Oregon newspapers had followed the landmark Baker case; The Oregonian even reported the divorce.

The Morning Oregonian, January 7, 1918, page 7. Source: Historic Oregon Newspapers

Annie and Carl married in Vancouver, Washington, on October 15, 1918. Carl had bought a modest house in Montavilla on 74th Street (now 74th Avenue) between Glisan and Everett. The house has been replaced by a modern residence. At this time, Annie had not been discovered by anthropologists, so she and Carl lived a quiet life until at least April 1930, when they appeared in the 1930 census.

What was Annie’s and Carl’s life like in Montavilla? Fortunately, Annie’s granddaughter, Iola Aasen Larsen, lived with the couple from 1921 to 1923, and she described aspects of their lives to Annie’s biographer, Lionel Youst. Carl continued working at the lumber camp during the week and came home on weekends. On weekends, they would go for drives in Carl’s car and to movies, very likely at the Granada Theatre, which was just a block away from their home.

During the week, Annie often occupied herself with traditional skills she’d learned early in life. She was skilled at basketry, beadwork, and sewing. She also applied her foraging knowledge in the new suburban environment, foraging for serviceberries, blackberry shoots, salmonberries, nettles, and wild tubers in nearby Sullivan’s Gulch—where I-84 runs now—and other nearby locations. Her favorite food was fish, a coastal indigenous staple. For this, she had to find a local market. In the 1920s, there were two stores on Glisan Street that offered fish: Rupert’s Grocery Store and the Montavilla Meat Market, both an easy walk from her home. On weekdays Annie and Iola liked to go to vaudeville matinees downtown. Since Annie could not read, Iola said she read her newspapers cover-to-cover, and when attending movies, then still the silent type, Iola whispered the captions in Annie’s ear.

While still living in Montavilla, Annie and Carl liked to spend their brief summer vacations in Charleston on Coos Bay’s South Slough, the area where Annie was born. They moved to Charleston permanently at the beginning of the Great Depression when Carl had lost his job. They sold their Montavilla house and made their summer cabin their new permanent and final home. On the South Slough, Annie could gather seafood galore for free, and Carl found employment as a deep-sea fisherman.

Annie and Carl Peterson beside their Charleston house. Photo source: Iola Larson Collection, Confederated Tribes of Siletz Indians

On November 11, 1931, Annie testified in hearings held in North Bend regarding reparations for the lands taken from Coos County Indians and given to White settlers in the 1850s. Annie was then the second or third-oldest Coos Native still alive. She testified in the Hanis tongue about the boundaries of the Coos tribal land. She also described the harsh conditions of life on the reservations where she grew up. The food shortages. The public beatings of those who left and were captured. Annie broke down on the stand, and proceedings had to be halted. She did not live to see the partial restoration of Siletz tribal lands in 1980.

Annie’s life changed in the summer of 1933 when Professor Melville Jacobs of the University of Washington came knocking at her door.

Since the early twentieth century, anthropologists had been trying to understand the culture of Oregon’s indigenous peoples. Jacobs himself had been doing field research to document the language, culture, music, and oral traditions of the indigenous tribes of the Pacific Northwest. Unfortunately, there were few people by then who remembered the old ways or the old languages. Professor Jacobs must have been ecstatic when a group of Hanis Natives told him of a Miluk speaker in southern Oregon. He would discover that Annie Peterson, besides speaking Miluk and Hanis, was also a treasure trove of traditional lore.

Article about Annie Petersen in The Kennewick (Washington) Courier-Reporter, October 19, 1933 Source: Chronicling America

In 1933, Jacobs began recording Annie as she sang tribal songs and recited tribal stories she remembered in abundance. In 1934, he returned to Annie’s home in Charleston to continue recording Annie’s recitations, now using the portable electric recorder just invented by two University of Washington colleagues. The new recorder was battery-powered, allowing Jacobs to play back what Annie had just recorded.

Annie Miner Peterson reciting Coos stories for Melville Jacobs in 1934. Source Cascadia Weekly, April 16, 2008

Jacobs published many of the stories and songs in 1939 and 1940. Below is an example.

“Bluejay shaman,” a Coos myth as recited by Annie Peterson. Source: Coos Myth Texts (1940)

Annie Peterson was 73 and 74 when she recited the traditional stories. Because she retained them without the assistance of written records and because she was willing to share them, she saved them for posterity. PSU anthropology professor Douglas Deur called Peterson “the foremost source of ethnographic and linguistic information on the Coos and Coquille tribes” of southern Oregon. Annie had escaped the diseases that took many lives on the reservations, but she died of tuberculosis at age 83 on May 19, 1939, in her Charleston home. She was buried in the white buckskin dress that she had tanned, trimmed, and sewed. Her husband Carl died a few months later, also of tuberculosis.

By

Patricia Sanders

Acknowledgment: I am grateful to Peter Sv-gvs (Black Bear) Hatch, History & Archaeology Specialist, Confederated Tribes of Siletz Indians, for sharing information with me about Annie Miner Peterson. The Confederated Tribes of Siletz Indians website includes a short biography of Annie Miner Peterson.

Note: If you know of other Montavilla notables, please send me an email, and I’ll see what I can discover. ~Patricia Sanders~

Title image digitally enhanced from a Coos County Historical Society sourced photo

Disclaimer: This article includes historical texts with terms for Native people that are considered derogatory. Its use here is necessary to provide the reader direct references and is not indicative of this publications use of language. Please direct any concerns around terms used in an article to editor@montavilla.net.

This is an installment of Montavilla History Questions Answered. 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 post.

History

Montavilla History Questions Answered: Christmas Gifts of the Early 1900s

Q – What were some typical Christmas gifts in Montavilla in the early 1900s?

Illustration from The Montavilla Times of December 19, 1929. Source: University of Oregon Knight Library, microfilm

A – With Christmas and Hanukkah just around the corner, the spirit of generosity is in the air, just as it was a hundred or more years ago in Montavilla. But where to find just the right item for the friends and relatives on your gift list? Luckily, Montavilla merchants ran ads in local newspapers with a myriad of suggestions.

In 1906, a shopper could head to Dan McMillan’s dry goods store on SE Stark Street (then Base Line Road) and find a variety of inexpensive gifts for all ages: toys and games for the tots, handkerchiefs, fancy collars, purses, and stationery for the ladies, hats, shirts, ties and suspenders for the gents, and fancy holiday candies and nuts for anyone, just to name a few.

Dan McMillan’s ad in the Beaver State Herald, December 21, 1906. Source: Historical Oregon Newspapers

Stark Street was not the only place to shop for gifts. Merchants on NE Glisan Street also advertised a variety of suggestions. Grocery store owner Frank Sperger, of course, stocked food and confectionaries for holiday meals, but in the 1906 ad below, he boldfaced a Perfection Oil Heater as a useful present. Did this new store owner get a deal on heaters?

Frank Sperger’s ad and a photo of his grocery store appeared in the Beaver State Herald of December 21, 1906. The store was at the corner of NE Glisan Street and NE 79th Avenue (then Villa Avenue and Ebey Street).

In the 1920s, Montavilla merchants advertised a wide array of gift suggestions, from the luxurious to the practical, from high prices to low. They were also recommending products of modern technologies, such as cameras, record players, and radios.

The Dickson drugstore at the corner of Stark and 80th was a Montavilla institution run by members of the Dickson family from 1910 until 2004. In 1920, owner Leland V. Dickson ran a Christmas ad in the Oregon Daily Journal with gift suggestions ranging from perfume to flashlights to Kodak cameras and phonograph records.

Dickson Drug Company ad in The Oregon Daily Journal, December 11, 1920. Source: Historic Oregon Newspapers

For a wide array of inexpensive gifts, Montavilla shoppers could head for Gertrude Hamlin’s Montavilla Variety Store on Glisan Street near 80th. Toys, for example, cost only 5 to 98 cents.

Montavilla Variety Store ad in The Montavilla Times of December 16, 1926. Source: University of Oregon Knight Library, microfilm

In 1926, Louis H. Balsiger, owner of the Jonesmore Pharmacy at Glisan and 71st, ran a short but eclectic list of gift ideas: stationery, toilet sets, candy, and leather goods.

Jonesmore Pharmacy ad (left) from the December 16, 1926 edition of the Montavilla Times includes toilet sets referring to a popular grooming item. An example of this item appeared in a Klamath Falls Evening Herald ad of December 8, 1938. Sources: University of Oregon Knight Library microfilm and Historic Oregon Newspapers

Balsiger ended his gift suggestions with radios, a new technology in the 1920s. Radio broadcasting had only recently arrived in Portland, with radio stations launched by the Oregonian and the Oregon Journal in 1922. (Earlier radio broadcasts had been available by telephone.) With broadcast radio, owners could listen to news and entertainment on radio sets in their own homes. In 1927, a store specializing in radios opened in Montavilla. There was no guessing about its merchandise since the store took the form of a 1927 radio.

The Hall Spiral Antenna Company radio-shaped store (left) and an ad for a console radio (right) in The Montavilla Times of November 3, 1927. Source: Historic Oregon Newspapers

Telephones, another newish technology, could make a thoughtful gift, according to the Pacific Telephone and Telegraph Company in a 1929 ad.

Pacific Telephone and Telegraph ad in The Montavilla Times of December 5, 1929. Source: University of Oregon Knight Library, microfilm. Montavilla Variety Store ad in The Montavilla Times of December 16, 1926. Source: University of Oregon Knight Library, microfilm

Frederick L. Howard, owner of The Howard Hardware and Paint Company at the corner of 76th and Glisan, thought an Electrical Christmas was perfect. He recommended electrical utensils, which would “save housewives many hours of work.”

Howard Hardware and Paint Company ad in The Montavilla Times of December 16, 1926. Source: University of Oregon Knight Library, microfilm

The Montavilla Times reported in its December 22, 1927 edition that money was tight at that moment, yet Christmas shopping was greater than ever before. Why? Well, there was more advertising. But was it also because that year, every store featured beautiful lights and decorations?

For those who could afford expensive gifts following the stock-market crash of October 28, 1929, jeweler Gottlieb Brugger stocked “gifts that last.” He had one-of-a-kind items—like the $50 watch a customer bought for her husband. But he also offered inexpensive New Haven Alarm Clocks.

Gottlieb Brugger ad in The Montavilla Times of December 19, 1929. Source: University of Oregon Knight Library, microfilm

As the U.S. headed into the Depression, newspaper ads more often highlighted inexpensive gifts, like the items in this 1931 Christmas ad by Leland Dickson. He boldfaced mostly low-cost items and listed “popularly priced” items—such as clocks, watches, and purses—in smaller type at the bottom of the ad.

Dickson Drug Company ad in The Montavilla Times of December 18, 1931. Source: University of Oregon Knight Library, microfilm

Should a husband not know what to give his wife, Santa—or rather Amy Bauer, owner of Bauer’s Beauty Shop at Glisan and 78th— had the answer: a permanent wave, which was quite the rage at this time.

Bauer’s Beauty Shop ad in The Montavilla Times of December 18, 1931 and an example of a popular permed style in a Lipman, Wolfe and Company ad in The Sunday Oregonian of December 4, 1932. Sources: University of Oregon Knight Library microfilm and Historical Oregon Newspapers.

If a $3.95 permanent was too expensive, how about a three-pound box of hand-dipped chocolates offered at the Granada Sweet Shop on Glisan for only $1.00? Or hosiery from Herman R. Rothenberger’s Stark Street shoe store for 50 cents to $1.00.

Shoe store owner H. R. Rothenberger’s ad in the December 18, 1931 edition of The Montavilla Times. Source: University of Oregon Knight Library microfilm

Here ends the story of Montavilla merchants’ suggestions for appropriate gifts between 1906 and 1931. The editions of The Montavilla Times available on the Knight Library microfilm end with the December 25, 1931 publication, even though this newspaper continued until 1937. However, this sampling of Montavilla newspapers’ Christmas ads from 1906 until 1931 shows what local merchants thought would appeal to their customers. By the 1920s, products of recent technologies, like radio, telephone, and electrical kitchen appliances, made it into the Christmas gift mix.

By

Patricia Sanders

This is an installment of Montavilla History Questions Answered. 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 post.

Promotion: Saturday, December 21st is the Merry Montavilla Soiree with many holiday shopping options and events. There is still time to find your holiday gifts in a Montavilla shop, no shipping required.

Demolition, History

1890 House Meticulous Deconstructed on NE 78th

Crews working with Meticulous Deconstruction recently completed wood salvage operations on the 1890-era home at 37 NE 78th Avenue. Within the coming weeks, demolition specialists will mechanically remove the remaining masonry and concrete foundation, making way for a new eight-unit townhome development. A series of owners wrapped this original Montavilla home with a century’s worth of remodels and extensions, making it a tricky project for deconstruction manager and company owner Brianna Ivy.

“We kept calling it the onion because of how many layers we kept uncovering, different weird eras of the house. Cool, but not unique necessarily because we’ve come across several of them,” explained Ivy. This crew of deconstruction specialists formed several years ago working for Good Wood‘s salvage team. She worked as the company’s deconstruction manager until the reclaimed lumber business decommissioned that portion of the operation to focus on its core mission. “When they shut down, I got my license and inherited their contracts,” recalled Ivy. The crew began working under the Meticulous Deconstruction title in May 2023. Over the years, the team has encountered a wide range of structures, from layered projects like the home on NE 78th Avenue to all original homes, where nearly every board is knot-free old-growth timber likely harvested within miles of the site.

A 2016 Portland City Ordnance mandates deconstruction for any house or duplex built before 1941. It also extends to some historic resources. Certified Deconstruction Contractors like Meticulous Deconstruction must complete these jobs, and this labor-intensive work can cost $18,000 to $20,000 per house, but it can also cost more for complicated projects. Portland was the first city in the country to implement a policy that ensures crews salvage valuable materials for reuse instead of sending a whole house to the landfill. The city does this because older homes contain unique wood that is no longer available. “Pre-industrial revolution, more or less, the houses were built with trees felled right on the property, milled on the property, and then they just built the house right there,” explained Ivy. Before the Second World War, skilled craftspeople built most houses, and they would only select the best lumber from the plentiful supply in the Pacific Northwest. Homes then had higher 10-foot or 12-foot ceilings, requiring straight, thick, and tall timbers. As the years progressed, lumber became physically smaller and of lower quality. The framing was “literally two by four [inches], and so the house that we’re deconstructing on 78th was old enough to have actual dimensional 2x4s. Some of them are even thicker than two inches, which is beefy. Pretty much every decade, the wood got milled a little bit smaller and then plateaued at today’s standard of 3 1/2 by 1 1/2 inches,” said Ivy.

The 134-year-old home at 37 NE 78th Avenue had more than thick lumber hiding within its walls, complicating the deconstruction. “Instead of using framing for the walls of the house, they use basically 1″ by 12″ flat planks of material that were the full height of the house. I think they would assemble those on the ground with siding on them perpendicular. The 1″ by 12″ material running vertically and then siding horizontally. They build all four walls on the ground, erect them, and connect them to the corners. The only framing is the floor joist and the ceiling. So the walls have no framing,” remarked Ivy. “We had to peel the house away from the outside to expose that original plank-constructed house to salvage it safely.”

Sanborn Map 1909

Brianna Ivy explained that in this type of hand deconstruction, the crew must understand building practices of every age; otherwise, removing side paneling could cause the upper floor to come crashing down because it was hanging from the walls. This home was old enough never to have lath and plaster walls. It went from wood-planked walls to more modern gypsum board, skipping over decades of building trends. The structure also predated the common use of electricity in housing, requiring future owners to install many modern amenities later. The house had several addresses over the years, but in 1909, Sanborn maps referenced the property as 325 East 78th Street. At the time, Daniel N. Hooker and Margaret Hooker lived there with their three daughters. A birthday party for daughter Cora Hooker turned into an “impromptu musical programme,” as recounted in the Sunday Oregonian’s August 11th, 1907, edition. Three years later, Daniel Hooker died in the house at the age of 61. The Hooker family may have been the original owners of the house, based on the timing of the articles and its construction date. However, many other generations of people have lived in the home since.

Sunday Oregonian, August 11, 1907
Morning Oregonian, May 03, 1910

This house’s architectural significance and viability were lost to unconventional remodels and neglect. Saving it was never a practical notion, but thanks to the deconstruction process, the wood that made it a home for many residents will continue on. “We report the wood salvage at the end of the project so the city can keep tabs on the salvage program,” said Ivy. “We salvaged an unbelievable amount of material from this project.” The timbers recovered from the oldest portion of a home rarely end up inside a wall of a newer home. The crew sends newer components from recent remodels to reuse specialty stores like the ReBuilding Center or the Habitat for Humanity ReStore center behind Plaza 205. However, the older wood is valuable to furniture makers and builders who use it for interior finishes. Builders 100 years ago had unlimited access to tight-grained lumber and used it throughout a project. Now, those craftspeople reserve those timbers for display areas in people’s houses.

Brianna Ivy enjoys this work, its environmentally supportive nature, and the community that has grown around her woman-owned business. Through word of mouth, Meticulous Deconstruction’s staff has grown to include mostly non-binary identifying employees. “We are a non-dude crew,” remarked Ivy. “We’ve become a safe haven for people who are not normally treated well in the construction industry.”

Although Portland requires deconstruction for pre-war residential buildings, Meticulous Deconstruction will work on other projects of any age or size. People often hire them to deconstruct detached buildings where the owners do not want heavy equipment disturbing their yards. One client had the crew deconstruct a garage without disturbing a bird’s nest in the tree leaning against the structure. Admittedly, deconstruction costs more than bulldozing, but it can save trees from being cut down for new lumber and provides long-lost wood to craftspeople. Expect to see the remaining foundation and basement at 37 NE 78th Avenue removed in the next two weeks as heavy equipment levels the ground for the new townhomes coming next year.

Article and photos by

Jacob Loeb

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History

Montavilla’s Wild West Past

Q – Was Montavilla ever “a wild west” town?

A – On the eve of Montavilla’s 100-year-anniversary celebration in 1989, Marguerite O’Donnell-Barnes told Oregonian reporter Suzanne Richards that her grandfather said, “No God-fearing man would go to Montavilla on a Saturday night.” It’s true that in Montavilla’s early days, the 1890s and the early 20th century, it may have looked like something from a Wild West movie. It still had dirt roads, plank sidewalks, saloons (until Montavilla finally went dry in 1905), blacksmith shops, and horse-drawn vehicles. But was it as rowdy as the O’Donnell-Barnes statement implies? 

In the early days, Montavillans worked to meet the community’s basic needs, such as a school, community meeting spaces, churches, a steady water supply, and better streetcar service. They also advocated for road and sidewalk upgrades. By 1901, they also sought help maintaining law and order. So, that year, the Montavilla Sub-Board of Trade campaigned for a Justice of the Peace and a Constable. 

What kinds of crimes might have been on their minds? We can get some answers from Portland newspapers since they reported on neighborhood crimes. The Oregonian of August 13, 1896, for example, reported that in Montavilla burglaries were so frequent that residents had to sleep “with one eye open, and a shotgun within easy reach.” The thieves came at night with buggies for the loot. William DeVeny (1852-1918), Montavilla’s Buffalo-Bill-look-alike, was determined to stop the thievery. Although he was just a foot doctor by trade, he billed himself as a law-and-order man. (In his 1915 autobiography, he would describe his earlier peace-keeping efforts in the Midwest.) So, one night, he stood watch and caught a pair of thieves in the act. He let them go with an order to leave Montavilla at once and never come back.

Illustration of William DeVeny (the man with the long hair) apprehending a criminal in Cincinnati, Kansas in 1887 from DeVeny’s autobiography, “The Establishment of Law and Order on the Western Plains.”

Besides thefts, Montavilla also had a counterfeiter. In 1900, fake coins—more valuable back then, of course—were circulating in Montavilla. The Oregonian of April 30, 1901, reported that Secret Service officers had found dies for making fake half-dollars, quarters, and nickels under a loose board in a building on Base Line Road (now Stark Street). The current occupant, H. W. Lang, publisher of the Villa Observer newspaper, said he knew nothing about the equipment, and the Oregonian did not mention an arrest. 

Thefts continued to be reported in the Portland press in 1905 and 1906: J. J. Herman’s stump-removal machine, L. Scott’s Jersey cow, and several house burglaries. Still, Montavilla did not have its own police officer until about 1909, when William W. Post (1867-1948) was appointed. Police Captain Joseph F. Keller (1880-1945) considered the Montavilla beat a dull one, but on June 30, 1912, Officer Post noticed three men holding up automobile passengers at gunpoint and had already shot a woman passenger. Post apprehended one of the three thieves, Don Brundridge, at gunpoint, but the two others fled. They were tracked to downtown Portland and later arrested. Captain Keller recommended that Patrolman Post receive an award for bravery. I found no report on whether he actually received it, but he did get his photo in the Oregonian.

Patrol Officer W. W. Post is recommended for a medal. Source: The Oregonian, July 3, 1912

Of course, having a police officer on duty did not end criminal activity in Montavilla. Portland newspapers continued to report crimes there. Dickson Drug Store, for example, endured periodic merchandise thefts: cameras worth $200 in 1914, 600 cigars in 1918, and copious quantities of tobacco and cigars in 1921. Even the Montavilla School was targeted by thieves who ransacked the building and stole about $10 in change.

Sometimes, criminal activities were thwarted by police or citizens. On April 30, 1917, for example, robbers broke into the West Oregon Lumber Company on Stark Street. When trying to break into a safe, the thieves’ nitroglycerine failed, so they could not open the safe door. When Patrolman Post heard the explosion, he hurried to the scene, but by this time, the burglars had fled.

Another robbery failed again on September 3, 1919. Two armed men entered the Montavilla Savings Bank at the corner of Stark and 80th and demanded cash. The teller and cashier refused. When the bank’s bookkeeper threatened them with a gun, the robbers fled in their getaway car.

Besides thefts, speeding automobiles also aroused Montavilla’s ire as they gradually replaced horses in the early 20th century. In October 1902, for example, a car was clocked at an amazing 40 miles an hour. After speed limits were passed, police officers were sometimes assigned to arrest violators speeding on Base Line Road.

The three Montavilla Savings Bank employees who foiled an attempted robbery. Photo source: The Oregonian, Sept. 4, 1919
Montavilla Savings Bank (now the Ya Hala restaurant). Photo courtesy of the Architectural Heritage Center

Any crime is deplorable, of course, but when Montavilla was just three years old, the community was truly shocked by a murder that took place on a Montavilla street. The victim was the beautiful 18-year-old Birdie Morton, who was shot by her former sweetheart, Martin Burdette Wolfe (often misspelled “Wolf”). The murder set off a manhunt that lasted for nearly 20 years. The deed and the efforts to find Wolfe and bring him to justice were reported in detail in Portland and other Oregon newspapers. 
The deed took place on October 13, 1892. Birdie and her younger sister had just left their family’s home and were walking to a prayer meeting. Burdette, as he was usually called in the press, had learned that Birdie was going out with other men. He approached Birdie and demanded that she walk with him. When she refused, he grabbed her arm, but she pulled back. Enraged, he pulled a revolver from his pocket and shot her in the chest. 

“In Arms Against Autos” proclaimed this headline in the October 6, 1902 The Oregonian.

Seeing what was happening, Birdie’s sister ran back home to get her father. By the time he got to Birdie, she had been shot and was lying on the street. He carried Birdie home and called a doctor. The bullet had just missed Birdie’s heart, and at first, there was hope she might live. Believing this, the Morton family did not intend to press charges. The two families were friends and had approved of the former Birdie-Burdette relationship. On October 21, however, Birdie died of sepsis. Family and friends mourned her death, and she was buried in Montavilla’s Brainard Cemetery. 

The Morton and Wolfe families must have been shocked by the deadly deed. So was attorney Clarence S. Hannum, who until recently had been training Wolfe to be a lawyer. When interviewed by an Oregonian reporter, Hannum described Wolfe as industrious and reliable “with no bad habits of any sort.” At the beginning of 1892, Wolfe was a young man with promise. By October, he was wanted for murder and reportedly on the run.

Portrait of Burdette Wolfe (here spelled Wolf). Source: Oregonian, October 19, 1892

The search for Wolfe lasted nearly 20 years and was tracked in the press. Rewards offered for his capture prompted the continued search. Early on, he was reportedly sighted in the Blue Mountains, then in Klamath County. In March 1893, a search party tracked him near Coos Bay. In 1896, he was reportedly killed by a posse. Then, in 1897, he was spotted alive in Arizona. In 1901, he was supposedly in Peru. The last reported sighting was in Calcutta (now Kolkata), India. This report was page-one news in the Oregon Journal of February 25, 1911. The informant was an unnamed man who said he had worked with Wolfe in Brazil and then traveled with him to Calcutta. Portland authorities believed they would be able to extradite Wolfe. I found no articles showing they succeeded. Finally, the search was at an end. 

So, was Montavilla a wild-west town? I guess that depends on your definition.

By

Patricia Sanders

Title Illustration from W. C. Tuttle’s “The Loot of the Lazy A” in Short Stories Magazine, 1926. Source: Wikimedia

This is an installment of Montavilla History Questions Answered. 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 post.

History

Montavilla History Questions Answered: Stark Street Knitting Mill

Q – What was the Monticello Antique Marketplace building originally?

A – This is a tricky question and one I’ve puzzled over for several years. When you look closely at the 8600 SE Stark Street building, you can see it was built in stages.

I haven’t been able to date all the components, but the earliest one is the two-story building at the corner of Stark and 86th Avenue. If you enter the Marketplace here, you are standing in what was the Dehen Knitting Mills company, a manufacturer of knitted clothing. Just imagine this space filled with busy workers and the clattering of knitting and sewing machines.

Delving into the history of the Dehen company, a fascinating story of a German immigrant and his American family unfolded. The story began with Wilhelm Peter Isenberg (1879-1955), later known as William P. Dehen.

He was born in the beautiful southern German city of Trier, where wool textile production dates back to Roman times. Both his paternal and maternal families were engaged in the manufacturing and sale of knitted wool garments. In 1920, Dehen told a reporter for Olympia’s Washington Standard that, as a youth, he had worked in his father’s knit-goods factory and had studied textile technology at Germany’s prestigious Reutlingen University.

He immigrated to the U.S. in 1903 and—again, according to the Standard—brought the first fully automatic knitting machine to the National Knitting Mills in Milwaukee. By 1905, he had Anglicized his first name to William, but he kept his surname until about 1914. Then, perhaps because of building anti-German sentiment on the eve of World War I, he adopted his mother’s family name, Dehen.

According to Dehen’s grandchildren, Liz Artaiz and Mike Dehen, someone encouraged William to seek his fortune on the West Coast. By 1906, he was working for a knitting mill in San Francisco, but shortly after he arrived, it was destroyed in the 1906 earthquake and fire. In 1907, he and his brother Mathias established their own knitting company in southern California. By 1909, he was back in San Francisco working as a superintendent for the Acme Knitting Company.

William Dehen (foreground) working at a knitting machine at an unknown location.  Source: TEDX talk by Benjamin Dehen-Artaiz

In San Francisco, William met Celia A. Schmitt (1885-1970), the daughter of a German immigrant born near Trier. Celia helped run the knitting companies they established in Seattle and Portland between 1915 and 1920. The couple had four children: Henry (b. 1910), Rosemary (b. 1912), Alvira (b. 1914), and William (b. 1922). All except Rosemary, who died tragically in a fire in 1915, would work in the Montavilla factory.

1925 Dehen Knitting Mills building at the corner of Stark and 86th. Photo source: Kelli Vinther, Monticello Antique Marketplace owner

According to Dehen family descendants, William and Celia were destitute when they moved to Portland (probably in 1921), so William had to work as a night watchman at Jantzen Knitting Mills. By 1922, they had opened Dehen Knitting Mills on Stark Street, probably in a preexisting building. In 1925, they commissioned a purpose-built, two-story factory at the corner of Stark and 86th Avenue (which is now the northwest end of the Monticello marketplace). The Oregon Daily Journal of May 9, 1925, reported that the new mill had two floors for production and a basement for storing yarn and other knitting supplies. The five employees produced sports sweaters and bathing suits on German knitting machines.

The Dehen family (Celia, William, and Henry, back; Alvira and Bill) standing in front of the 1925 Dehen building at Stark and SE 86th. Photo courtesy of Dehen 1920

The Dehen mill produced a variety of knitted wool garments––sweaters, bathing suits, underwear, dresses, skirts, and jackets––and sold them to wholesale and retail customers. By 1928, the Dehen company had 15 employees.

In 1927, the company acquired a Jacquard circular knitting machine specifically designed for wool bathing suits.

Dehen ad for a worsted sweater coat. Source: The Sunday Oregonian, February 21, 1926

Woolen bathing suits were popular in the 1920s.  Photo source: ad in the Roseburg New Review, July 1, 1926

The Dehen business continued to grow. In 1927, they added a one-story building behind the 1925 mill. (This still exists on the south side of the antique mall.) By this time, the Dehen mill had 26 knitting machines and 24 sewing machines to produce sweaters, bathing suits, underwear, dresses, skirts, athletic suits, and shirts.

1927 addition to the Dehen Knitting Mill.  Photo source: The Sunday Oregonian, January 1, 1928

After the stock-market crash of 1929 and the ensuing Depression, the Dehen company fell on challenging times. Customers were unable to pay for products. The bank foreclosed. But the business would continue. According to William’s son Bill, his father and a few friends liberated some knitting machines and yarn. With these supplies, the family continued to produce knit goods in the basement of their new home in Portland’s Goose Hollow neighborhood. They sold them in a storefront at 730 SW 10th Avenue (now the Galleria building). At one point, they even had to sell their goods door-to-door in Gresham, sometimes trading for food.

Despite the lean Depression years, the business survived and ultimately thrived. William and Celia lived to see the company turn around and succeed. Today, Jim Artaiz, husband of Dehen’s granddaughter Liz, runs the Dehen 1920 in Portland, producing high-quality knit goods. For more on the company’s history, you can watch the Portland TEDX talk by Benjamin Dehen-Artaiz, great-grandson of William Dehen, on YouTube. You can also see the current line of knit products on the Dehen 1920 website. Additionally, you can visit their retail store at 1040 NE 44th Avenue to see some of their knit goods and even see the current mill with its knitting and sewing machines.

So, what happened to the Dehen Mill Building? When the Dehens left in 1934, the Coast Printing Company (later the Coast Salesbook Company) moved in. This company was purchased in 1968 by Ennis Business Forms, a national corporation. In 1999, Kelli Vinther purchased the building and transformed it into the Monticello Antique Marketplace. At some point during these decades, the owners built additions to the Dehen Knitting Mill to create the antique mall and Monti’s restaurant complex that is the Montavilla institution of today.

By

Patricia Sanders

This is part of a new segment at Montavilla News called Montavilla History Questions Answered. 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 post on this page.

Construction, History, Renovation

Sunshine Laundromat Closes for Renovations

On September 23rd, Sunshine on Glisan Coin Laundry & Cleaners closed for a multi-week renovation. Crews removed several old machines and used jackhammers to break up interior concrete at 7914 NE Glisan Street. Over the last year, the business’s new owner, Nader Fakhry, replaced aging machines and other systems to improve operations and upgraded washer capacity for the patrons who rely on this business for household washing needs.

Fakhry purchased the laundromat on NE Glisan Street in 2023 after several years running Alpine 24 Hour Laundromat on N Lombard Street. He registered both businesses under the Splash and Relax Laundromat name. However, Fakhry has no plans to change the name because he believes that it is essential that customers continue to see the traditional name of their trusted laundry facility. He wants people to feel confident returning to his business and has taken a paced approach to upgrades. Over the last year, customers have seen systems swapped out and payment options expanded. During the business’s transition to new equipment, customers would use one of several cashless payment systems, including the in-store loyalty program Fastcard, the Speed Queen app, or credit cards, depending on the machines available. The business owner’s gradual upgrades have created some inconsistency between units using old or new payment options, but those should dissipate when renovations are complete. The move to all Speed Queen equipment will enable people to use smartphone apps to track washer progress and not need to wait inside the laundromat.

When Fakhry took over the Sunshine Laundry, most machines were 20-pound capacity washers, similar in size to units found in people’s homes. Previous owners installed those shorter units on a large concrete platform in the center of the building that put washers at an ergonomically advantageous height for loading. The business owner is transitioning to new, larger capacity machines, some of which they installed during a March refresh, and others will be part of this latest renovation. The modern Speed Queen equipment supports loads ranging in capacity from 40, 60, 80, and 100 pounds. The larger equipment sits higher off the ground and will not work on the old raised platform.

Consequently, demolition crews are removing the concrete island in the center of the floor. Fakhry explained that this lowers the taller washers back to a reasonable height and allows patrons better movement between the washers and dryers without traveling the length of the laundromat to navigate around the podium. With the floor open, crews can upgrade the existing drainage system to higher capacity pipes needed for the bigger washers. Cement masons will need to increase the floor slab’s thickness in areas to support the heavier 100-pound equipment. Those are some of the largest capacity washers in Portland, and they can process five times the clothes as a home-sized unit.

Renovations at this nearly 100-year-old building were inevitable as the past owners retrofitted it for this use decades ago. MacMarr grocery stores built this storefront in 1930 under the old street numbering system. The City originally addressed the building as 1979 E. Glisan Street before the great renumbering of Portland. A few years later, before 1935, Safeway purchased the MacMarr Stores chain. It remained a Safeway store into the 1950s. Around 1961, the property’s owner converted the building to support a coin-operated laundry. At one point in the late 1970s, the laundry’s name was “Laudrymat Village” before other owners changed it to modern variations of the current business’s name.

With the laundromat’s long history of serving residents who need access to washers and dryers, its temporary closure will likely disrupt people’s lives and require them to visit other locations. However, these renovations will enable this business to grow to meet modern laundry needs while supporting programs people depend on. The pre-existing Fastcard system will remain with new, more secure cards, giving people $22 in credit for every $20 loaded on the card. Future equipment upgrades will also allow mobile tap-to-pay and direct credit card payments. Larger machines allow for more efficient service for all users, and they can also attract customers who have at-home machines but need larger capacity for bulky items or faster washing. Nader Fakhry plans future updates to expand his business’s wash and fold service and continue his equipment modernization efforts. Construction could take two to three weeks for contractors to complete work. Watch this article for updates on the reopening of this affordable neighborhood laundromat.

Article and photos by

Jacob Loeb

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History

Montavilla History Questions Answered: The Montavilla Library

Q – Whatever happened to the Montavilla Branch Library?

A – I’ve often been asked this question. If you go looking for Montavilla’s branch library —as I did— you may have trouble finding it. But —believe it or not— the building still exists.

The Montavilla Branch Library closed in November 1981 because of Multnomah County Libraries’ funding problems. There was an attempt to fund the Montavilla and Lombard branch libraries through a levy, but Portland voters turned it down, forcing those two branches to close.

The Oregon State University Extension Service leased the Montavilla building until 2003. In 2005, the Multnomah County Commission voted to sell the site despite a proposal made by the “Save Montavilla Library” group, which offered to run it as volunteers.

Considering the effort it took to establish Montavilla’s branch library, this was a sad moment in Montavilla’s history. The community efforts that eventually resulted in a branch library date back to 1906. That year, the Multnomah County Library (MCL) opened local reading rooms in several communities, including Montavilla. The MCL would provide books and a librarian for each reading room, but the communities had to supply the room. Montavilla’s mothers and teachers jumped on the opportunity and raised enough funds to rent a space on Stark Street. The Montavilla Reading Room opened in 1907.

Montavilla’s first sub-branch library at SE 422 81st Ave., north of SE Stark St. (Courtesy Multnomah County Library)

In 1911, the MCL upgraded all Portland reading rooms to sub-branch status, meaning communities no longer had to pay for the library space. Wanting a purpose-built library, Montavilla and neighboring Mt. Tabor campaigned for a Carnegie library in Montavilla. The campaign failed, but in November 1912, the City Library Association promised Montavilla a new, permanent branch library. That, too, did not happen. Instead, the Montavilla library moved into the brick building at 422 SE 81st Avenue (now the Miyamoto Sushi restaurant). Needing more space, the branch added the building next door in 1913.

A branch library building had to wait until 1935. It was the middle of the Great Depression, but creative thinking and determination made it happen. In 1934, the Montavilla Kiwanis Club kicked off a campaign for a new branch library. The City of Portland donated the site. The Library Association provided cash. SERA (Oregon’s State Emergency Relief Administration) contributed the labor. Portland architect Herman Brookman designed the building. When the building was completed in late 1934, Girl Scouts and Boy Scouts helped to move 5,000 books from the old branch library to the new one at 211 SE 80th Avenue just south of SE Ash Street. With a formal ceremony, the branch library opened on September 3rd, 1935. And the Library Association declared in its 1935 annual report that the Montavilla branch library was the outstanding achievement of the year.

Montavilla Branch Library, 211 SE 80th Ave. (Courtesy Multnomah County Library)

After the Montavilla library closed in 1981, the Oregon State University Extension Service leased it until 2003. Then, the building lay vacant for two years. In 2005, the Multnomah County Commission voted to sell it despite a proposal from the “Save Montavilla Library” group.

Remodeled Montavilla Branch Library, 211 SE 80th Ave. (Jacob Loeb)

The nonprofit Unlimited Choices —a housing rehabilitation service— acquired the property and altered the library building to meet its needs. The library was lifted to make room for a new ground story, and a large dormer was inserted above the entrance door. So, technically, the Montavilla Branch Library building is still there, but the additions make it hidden.

By

Patricia Sanders

This is part of a new segment at Montavilla News called Montavilla History Questions Answered. 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 post on this page.

Community, Event, History, View of Montavilla

Historic Erv Lind Field Ceremony

On September 6th, Government officials and honored community members gathered in front of Erv Lind Field (Normandale Field) to celebrate its listing on the National Register of Historic Places. This community stadium at NE 57th Ave and Hassalo Street is the only sports facility in Oregon constructed primarily for a women’s sports league team. It served for decades as a gathering space for LGBTQ+ Portlanders during an oppressive period of the City’s history.

The event occurred in the stadium seating area surrounded by the annotated pictures of athletic achievement displayed in “Portland’s Hall of Fame and Honor.” Players with the Rose City Softball Association, Oregon’s largest LGBTQ+ sports organization, provided a backdrop to the scheduled speakers, with the Amateur Softball Association’s six-foot-tall World Champions trophy flanking the podium. The Erv Lind Florists won the national women’s softball championship in 1964, bringing the prize to the home field used by the team since 1948.

Left to right: Portland City Commissioner Carmen Rubio, Kristen Minor, U.S. Representative Earl Blumenauer, Fern Wilgus, Oregon First Lady Aimee Kotek Wilson, Portland City Commissioner Dan Ryan, and Tim Bias

The story of the field extends beyond its contribution to gender-inclusive athletic achievements. This location also served as one of the earliest and longest-lasting gathering spaces for LGBTQ+ Portlanders when the City was intolerant of known LGBTQ+ venues and community members. U.S. Representative Earl Blumenauer noted that hidden history and the importance of surfacing its significance to the City and nation. “I grew up in Portland, and there’s a back story here that I wasn’t aware of as a kid in this neighborhood,” said Blumenauer. “I’m so pleased that we are making this recognition clear. We’ll have plaques that people can see and savor this significant permanent part of Portland’s history, celebrating it all in its rich diversity. As I’m winding down, with 114 days left until I’m a civilian, it’s been delightful to see the progress we’ve made in terms of historic preservation. We are a national leader in recognizing historic contributions of the LGBTQ community.”

U.S. Representative Earl Blumenauer

Oregon First Lady Aimee Kotek Wilson expanded on the State’s leadership in recognizing places that supported LGBTQ+ communities. “I’m honored to be here to celebrate the addition of these landmarks to the National Historic Registry and want to thank everybody who made this reality. It brings me incredible joy not only to be Oregon’s First Lady but to be a part of our State’s first LGBT First Family. There was a time in my life where I never thought I would have the choice to be married, yet because of the work of so many people that came before me, I am blessed to be married to one of the first out Lesbian governors in the country. Who also plays a little softball. With the addition of the Erv Lind Field and Crystal Hotel, Portland becomes the proud home to 3 of 30 sites of Queer significance on the National Historic Registry. 10% of the nation’s significant gay historic landmarks are right here in Portland,” said Kotek Wilson. “The contributions from the lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, nonbinary, and queer community cannot be overstated. From fierce advocacy to rich cultural history. Once again, Oregon is leading the way in protecting underrepresented groups, and [Gov.] Tina [Kotek] and I are so proud to be a part of that.”

Oregon First Lady Aimee Kotek Wilson

Fern Wilgus spoke at the ceremony, representing the many softball players who relied on the community around Erv Lind Field to help them express themselves in a restrictive society. She shared decades of stories about players’ accomplishments and dedication to the second families created around the game. Wilgus explained that while telling her stories, she would still honor the trust that had developed among the softball players of her time, even decades later. “Some of these names are going to be full names because they have passed, and I hope I don’t have thunder hitting me, and some of the names are going to be just first names because a lot of people have not yet come out for one reason or another. I did as soon as I got home and out of the military because I was free at last,” explained Wilgus. She also acknowledged that the league was not fully accepting of people’s true selves with rules that required players to dress feminine and, to Wilgus’s heartfelt disapointment, prevented people of color from participating. However, looking back at the transformation and support enabled by Erv Lind Field and the softball players drawn to that place, Fern Wilgus feels her dreams were realized.

Fern Wilgus

Portland City Commissioner Carmen Rubio helped usher in this recognition with a funding package focused on equitable historic preservation. “With those resources, the staff at the Bureau of Planning and Sustainability, specifically Cayla McGrail, have spent years working to document LGBTQIA+ historic sites across Portland. Erv Lind Field is more than deserving of that designation,” said Rubio. “Immediately after the inauguration, 44,000 fans came to this field to watch the Amateur Softball Association World Championship women’s softball tournament in 1948. In the years after its inauguration, this field became a place of camaraderie and community for softball players and fans alike.” Portland Parks and Recreation Director Adena Long noted the contribution of historian Kristen Minor in preparing the National Register nomination, along with the contribution of Parks staff Brett Horner and Marty Stockton.

Portland City Commissioner Carmen Rubio

Portland Commissioner Dan Ryan summarized with humor and excitement the importance of landmarks like Erv Lind Field, which have shaped Portland into the more accepting community it has become. “Just this week, under the category of, ‘No kidding,’ there was an article that said this City has the most lesbian couples of any city in the nation. As a safe and welcoming place for lesbian, bisexual, and queer women, Erv Lind Field opened the door to this City that we have today,” said Ryan.

Portland City Commissioner Dan Ryan

Article and photos by

Jacob Loeb

Commissioner Carmen Rubio is running for Portland Mayor and Commissioner Dan Ryan is running for Portland City Council in District 2. Montavilla News does not endorse candidates, ballot measures, or government initiatives.

Promotion: Help keep independent news accessible to the community. Montavilla News has a Patreon account or you can pay for a full year directly online. We invite those who can contribute to this local news source to consider becoming paid subscriber or sponsor. We will always remain free to read regardless of subscription.

History, Property Sale

Former Fueling Site for Sale Again

The owners of a 0.8-acre industrial site at 9270 NE Glisan Street listed the property for sale after almost four years of use as a freight transportation yard. This former Associated Petroleum Products distribution facility spans residential and commercial zoning, and any substantial redevelopment would need to conform to new city-designated uses. However, new owners could request conditional use approval for similar logistics operations as allowed today.

Pioneer Oil Company built the facility in 1988, and the family that owned that company still has a stake in the property. In 2020, they entered a real estate transaction directly with a buyer to sell the property. Now, the 350 by 100 foot multi-parcel property is available again. The front 10,000 square foot lot is on NE Glisan Street in a Commercial Mixed Use 1 (CM1) zone, allowing small-scale buildings generally three stories tall. It could support apartments, offices, and retail storefronts. The Residential 2,500 (R2.5) parcels are single-dwelling zones, but newer building codes allow for housing density in these areas, including cottage clusters and fourplexes.

Overhead image from Portland Maps Red lines indicates CM1 Zoning and blue marks a residential R2.5 designation

The mixed-use parcel on NE Glisan Street blocks the residentially zoned properties from access to a city street. However, an overgrown alley extends from E Burnside Street to NE Glisan Street along the property’s eastern edge. That skinny single-lane road was the original East 94th Street North before later development, and Portland City street renumbering shifted that street 150 feet east. During that early time in Portland’s history, people called NE 92nd Place Mabel Street, and these properties were located just outside city limits in Russellville. 9270 NE Glisan Street was addressed as 2264 E. Glisan Street when Russellville Water Company first owned the land. It housed an above-ground steel water tank elevated into the air by a steel support tower. This distribution tank stored 50,000 gallons of water. Russellville Water Company’s board dissolved the organization on December 30th, 1950, and sold its assets to the Russellville Water District.

Sanborn Maps from 1924 showing Russellville Water Co. tower at 9270 NE Glisan St

Current zoning and past uses for petroleum storage may complicate future redevelopment of this site. However, its walkable access to transit on bus or MAX light rail and quick connections to services in the Gateway District make 9270 NE Glisan Street an appealing place for housing construction with varying degrees of density. Interested groups can contact Jordan Fezler with Apex Real Estate Partners.

By

Jacob Loeb