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.
On April 30, 1913, Montavilla residents gathered at the northeast corner of Burnside and 82nd Avenue to attend the grand opening of Fire Station No. 27. For years, the community had fought for professional fire protection. At last, it had arrived.
Montavilla Fire Station at the northeast corner of 82nd Avenue and Burnside Street. Source: East Portland Historical Overview & Preservation
The need was evident as early as the early 1890s. The neighborhood was not yet part of the City of Portland, and it was on its own when it came to fighting fires. In June 1892, the residents of Montavilla’s first subdivision—Mount Tabor Villa Addition—met in their newly-created town hall to form their own volunteer fire brigade. The June 30, 1892, edition of the Oregonian reported that 56 people signed up as members. They elected officers. A committee would help raise funds for firefighting equipment. A “grand ball,” held in the town hall, raised “a handsome sum of money,” according to the Oregonian of July 20, 1892.
How often the Mount Tabor Villa Fire Company was activated is unknown. But the Oregonian reported that on the night of May 15, 1895, the brigade was called to action and partially succeeded. They were unable to save the Carlson house, but they did prevent it from spreading by throwing wet blankets onto the roof of the house next door.
Over the next few years, Montavilla’s population grew as new subdivisions were platted. Houses and commercial buildings multiplied. Better fire protection was needed. This task was taken up in 1902 by the newly formed Montavilla Board of Trade, a neighborhood improvement organization. The board’s first effort was to assess various types of fire extinguishers.
In 1902, the need was clear. In September, a Rockwood fire spread west to Montavilla and destroyed a number of houses. In October, the nearby Oriental Hall on Mt. Tabor also succumbed to flames.
Oregon Journal, September 12, 1902, page 1
William DeVeny—Montavilla’s Buffalo Bill look-alike and secretary of the Montavilla Board of Trade—advocated annexing Montavilla to the City of Portland. “For all the fire protection that we now have,” he proclaimed, “we might as well be located in the woods, many miles from the city limits.” With annexation could come local, professional fire protection.
William DeVeny of the Montavilla Board of Trade argued strenuously for annexation to Portland. Source: The Centennial History of Oregon, 1811-1912, Vol. 3, 1912
Many Montavilla voters opposed annexation, but it finally won in 1906. Now officially part of Portland, surely Montavilla would get better fire protection as well as Bull Run water, which would boost Montavilla’s insufficient water supply, a needed resource for squelching flames.
Portland fire protection did not come quickly. In 1908, Montavilla joined the nearby Mt. Tabor and Center neighborhoods to petition the Mayor and City Council for local fire protection. They failed. In August 1909, Montavilla resident Seth Lind lost his house on East Madison Street. A month later, the Montavilla Board of Trade pleaded with the City to at least provide 1,000 feet of fire hose and a hose cart. Again, they were turned down.
The Oregon Journal, September 10, 1909
City protection was still lacking when fire broke out on July 4, 1910 in one of Montavilla’s main commercial blocks. Despite the date, the fire was not caused by fireworks. It started at 4:30 am when confectionary store owner, William Armstrong, lit his gasoline stove to heat some water. He stepped away for a moment and the stove suddenly exploded, filling the store with flames. From his store in the wood-frame Leander Lewis building at the northwest corner of Stark Street and 80th Avenue it spread north to adjacent stores on 80th and west all the way to 79th Street. Soon most of that block was in ruins.
Lacking a local fire station, Montavilla residents rushed to the scene to help. They started removing goods until the rapidly spreading fire made this too dangerous. Now, residents could only fight the flames with garden hoses and buckets. At one point, the refrigerator plant in Giles’ meat market exploded, carrying the sound for miles.
By the time two east-side fire-engine companies arrived, 15 buildings lay in ruins.
Results of the July 4, 1910 fire in Montavilla Photo courtesy of the Oregon Historical Society
Michael Smyth’s dry goods store at the northwest corner of Stark and 79th survived the fire relatively intact. The repaired building is now home to the Bipartisan Café. Photo courtesy of the Oregon Historical Society.
The Oregon Journal estimated the total damage of the fire as $35,000. Fortunately, most businesses had insurance. Toll’s shoe store on 80th, however, was one of the uninsured, a $5,000 loss. Some businesses lost machinery as well as goods. And residents living above the stores lost clothing, furniture, and family heirlooms. These and other details of the devastating effects of the fire were reported at length in the Portland press.
Headlines in the Oregon Journal July 5, 1910 edition
Fortunately, injuries were minor. The destroyed buildings could—and would—be rebuilt, but this time with concrete and brick, not wood.
Surely now, the City of Portland would grant Montavilla a fire station. Just one day after the conflagration, the intrepid William DeVeny sprang into action and started circulating petitions for a Montavilla fire station. The Oregonian supported the petition, stating, in its July 9 edition, that “the narrow escape of the suburb from being completely destroyed has emphasized the need for a fire station and engine in the central portion of the district.” Montavilla also needed more water mains and fire hydrants: that campaign would begin in the fall.
Despite these efforts and the clear need, Mayor Simon and the Executive Board refused to grant Montavilla a fire station.
In 1911, the Montavilla Board of Trade launched another petition campaign, hoping to be more successful with the new Portland administration. By this time, Montavilla could argue that its new water mains could supply water for firefighting. The Oregonian again supported the effort, noting in its July 10, 1911, edition that the Mount Tabor fire station at E. 61st and Stark was too far away. This was demonstrated in August 1911, when Montavilla sent an alarm to that station, and its three horses refused to pull the engine over the hill.
In October 1911, signed petitions were presented to Portland’s new mayor, Allen G. Rushlight, and the Executive Board. They agreed to appropriate funds for a Montavilla fire station in the coming year. By June 1912, Battalion Chief Holden—an architect as well as a fire chief—had drawn up plans for a Montavilla station. Construction was underway by August.
The trend at this time was to use motorized vehicles, but Holden’s design would work for either horses or engines. The Montavilla station began with horsepower, but a few years later, switched to motorized trucks.
On April 30, 1913, Montavilla’s Engine Company No. 27 opened at the NE corner of Burnside and 82nd. That day, citizens were welcome to inspect the brick and concrete building, listen to a fireman’s band, and hear speeches by Mayor Rushlight, Montavilla booster William DeVeny, and others. 2,000—surely relieved–citizens attended. Finally, Montavilla had its own fire station.
The Montavilla Firehouse No. 27 opened onto NE 82nd Avenue. Photo courtesy of Jason Watson
The Montavilla fire station was established at the end of the fire-horse era. Mechanical engines were already replacing horses. Photo courtesy of Jason Watson
Four years after the Montavilla fire station was threatened with closure. In 1917, the City of Portland decided to reduce its firefighting budget. That meant selling horses, replacing them with motorized vehicles, and eliminating three fire stations. Since Montavilla was one of the three, it seemed doomed. But the Montavilla Board of Trade fought back, arguing that Montavilla—with its 1,936 houses, 50 businesses, four schools, seven churches, and a population of 15,000—deserved local protection. The Board also protested the plan to replace horses with engines, arguing that motorized fire trucks could not traverse Montavilla’s many dirt streets. City Commissioner Bigelow pointed out that fire engines using heavy chains could get to places horse-drawn vehicles could not.
Montavilla Station 27 survived the City’s economizing effort. But horses would be replaced by motorized trucks. The new vehicles, bedecked with flowers, were displayed in the 1920s Rose Parade.
The Montavilla fire truck covered with roses, delphiniums, and snapdragons won a fourth-place prize in the 1923 Rose Parade. Photo courtesy of Jason Watson.
In the 1920s, the men of Engine 27 sometimes joined other firefighting units to quell blazes outside Montavilla boundaries. A headline-catching Rocky Butte fire on July 23, 1924, is one example. After spreading east, the fire headed west to 82nd Street. Before the fire was extinguished, it burned an estimated 800 acres. It took nearly 100 people to beat back the flames. Fortunately, the damage was mainly limited to grass and brush.
During the Depression years, firefighting forces were reduced for economic reasons. The Montavilla fire station lost two crew members.
Montavilla Fire Station No. 27 continued in service until 1953. As part of Portland’s fire station replacement program, it was shut down, and a new fire station—engine 19—was built at 7301 E. Burnside. It serves the Montavilla, South Tabor, Madison South, and part of the Mount Tabor neighborhoods.
Portland Fire and Rescue, Engine 19, 7301 E. Burnside
The old Montavilla fire station was demolished, and the property—plus the two adjacent lots—became the site of a Carter Oil gas station in 1959. In 1986, the three lots were occupied by Sigler’s Auto Sales. Today, it is home to Cars to Go.
Engine 27 fire fighters relaxing in front of the old Montavilla station. Photo courtesy of Jason Watson
Montavilla was lucky to get its own fire station. As usual, in this feisty suburb, it took a community.
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.
A – The Sunday edition of the May 7th, 1916, Oregonian, announced the formation of a Black church in Montavilla. By this time, the Black population of Montavilla had grown from only two in the 1900 U.S. Census to numbers large enough to warrant a mission church, that is, one by a larger religious organization. The Oregonian photograph shows a congregation of 40 men, women, and children. A few years later, Mission Church became Shiloh Baptist Church.
The 1916 Oregonian photo shows the Mission Church congregation standing in front of a brick wall. This is undoubtedly the east side of Scenic Theater, where services and Sunday school were held. The Scenic Theater — located at the northwest corner of Stark and 79th — was still an operating movie theater and also a meeting place for several Montavilla groups.
Photograph of the Montavilla Mission congregation Source: The Sunday Oregonian, May 7, 1916
The Oregonian credited George Gardner (1880-1937) and Ida Thompson (1872-1960) — misspelled “Thomas” — with founding the Mission Church for the sake of Montavilla children, who needed a local Sunday school. Mrs. Thompson already had experience operating a Sunday school. Before moving to Portland, she lived briefly in Denver, Colorado, and there supervised the Sunday school at Bethlehem Baptist Church. Once Shiloh Baptist church was established in a new location, she managed its kindergarten for many years and became known as the Mother of Shiloh.
In 1916, George Gardner was not yet a consecrated pastor. He was ordained in 1920 and served periodically as Shiloh Baptist’s pastor.
In 1916, the Montavilla Mission congregation hoped to build its own church. But by 1919, the congregation had dwindled to only nine. That’s when Mrs. Thompson and her friend, Mrs. Sarah James (1885-1953), sprang into action. Lacking funds for a new building, they purchased a house at the northwest corner of NE Everett and NE 76th, which they converted into Shiloh Baptist Church. (Coincidentally, this was just one block from today’s Highland Christian Center.)
Shiloh was and still is a popular name for Black Baptist churches throughout the U.S. This Hebrew name is associated with the New Testament Messiah. One famous example is the Shiloh Missionary Baptist Church in Selma, Alabama, which was a stop on the 1965 march from Selma to Montgomery.
Rev. Alexander E. Reynolds (1862-1923) was Montavilla’s Shiloh Baptist Church’s first minister. He was recruited from Bethlehem Baptist Church in Denver, where he had been pastor for 11 years. Perhaps he was recommended or recruited by Ida Thompson, his former parishioner and Sunday School supervisor. Perhaps Ida hoped Rev. Reynolds could perform the same miracles for the Montavilla church that he had done in Denver. In Denver, he had raised church membership from 12 to 125 and increased the church treasury from zero to an amount sufficient to buy two lots for a future church.
Unfortunately, the Montavilla congregation — despite repeated efforts — never had its own purpose-built church. The house on Everett remained its home until the 1950s. Despite the small space, the congregation grew. The Oregonian of July 19th, 1921, reported that the new church had “a large audience” of both Black and White churchgoers.
Rev. Reynolds left in 1921 to take a new position in Yakima. Later that year — the week of July 17th — Shiloh Baptist brought in an evangelist, Rev. Lowe of Cleveland, Ohio, to lead a revival. Did the Shiloh community need spiritual solace after learning of the recent horrible Tulsa massacre — one of the worst incidents of racial violence in U.S. history? Were they seeking to expand their congregation? Whatever the motivation, The Oregonian reported a large turnout of both Blacks and Whites.
In 1923, the church had a run of bad luck when the new pastor, Rev. Elijah Moseley, was arrested in a police moonshine raid. Rev. Moseley and two others were suspected of violating Oregon’s prohibition law. Rev. Moseley was accused of being disorderly and fined $10. The indiscretion was exposed in the October 11th and 13th editions of The Oregon Journal.
In 1924, Shiloh Baptist almost lost its property. But Rev. J. W. Anderson and Rev. W. D. Carter of the Northwest Coast Baptist Association came to its rescue. The Shiloh congregation publicly expressed its gratitude in The Advocate.
The Advocate, December 13, 1924
In 1926, George Gardner — now Reverend Gardner — returned to Montavilla Shiloh Baptist as an ordained minister. For the next couple of years, things seemed to go swimmingly for the church. It was enlivened by Christmas celebrations, guest speakers, plays, an athletic club, barbecues, street fairs, chitterling dinners, Halloween socials, a Freewill Workers’ club, and stirring sermons by Rev. Gardner. Sunday School attendance was also up, with regular attendance at 40.
The Advocate, October 15, 1927
The Advocate, July 2, 1927
In November 1927, Rev. Gardner resigned, leaving a list of complaints published in the November 12th issue of The Advocate. He said he was not only the pastor. He was also the janitor, the woodchipper, the fire builder, the window washer, and the errand man. He regretted leaving the church without a pastor and a debt of $300, but he was tired of preaching mostly to his wife, since church members seemed to prefer going to movies or staying home. Still, he did not forget Shiloh Baptist. He returned to reminisce for the church’s 8th anniversary in February 1928.
Photo of Rev. Gardner. The Advocate, April 28, 1928
Despite repeated efforts to build its own church, the congregation continued to meet at the house on Everett until the 1950s. It was a convenient location for most of Montavilla’s Black residents who lived between Burnside and Glisan, from NE 74th to NE 79th.
More changes came quickly, starting in 1928. Ida Thompson gave up kindergarten supervising and moved to her six-acre chicken farm in Barton, Clackamas County. Yet she continued to play a pivotal role at Shiloh Baptist to its bitter end.
A succession of pastors came and went between 1928 and 1929. By 1929, the church was finally out of debt and once again dreaming of building a church. Rev. Gardner returned once again in 1931.
Greater stability came in 1933 with a new pastor, Rev. Robert E. Donaldson (1885-1966), who was fresh out of Chicago’s Moody Bible Institute. He would serve Shiloh Baptist for 14 years, the longest period of pastoral stability in the church’s history.
Rev. Donaldson initiated several benevolent and outreach initiatives. For example, in 1938, he founded a retirement home for Black clergymen — the first of its kind in the Northwest. It was located across the street from the Church, in the 1890 house at 7524 NE Everett, which still exists.
7524 NE Everett formerly the Pacific Coast Aged Ministers and Missionary Home. Photo by Jacob Loeb
Shiloh Baptist carried on — although not without problems — until 1961, when the last known pastor, Rev. Robert H. Anderson (1890-1963) retired. Beginning in 1943, the church’s name changed several times: People’s Community Baptist Church, then Shiloh Missionary Baptist Church, then New Shiloh Baptist Church, and finally back to Shiloh Baptist Church.
These name changes occurred during a period of difficulties and discord, much of it stemming from the condition of the church facility. By the 1940s, it was in disrepair, and in 1948, the City of Portland condemned it. There were efforts to restore it or build a new church, which led to the congregation splitting into two factions: Ida Thompson, Sarah James, and Rev. Donaldson on one side, and congregants loyal to the current minister, Rev. Robert H. Anderson, on the other. The battle finally devolved into litigation.
Three of the main actors in the Church’s history died before the conflict could be resolved: Sarah James in 1953, Ida Thompson in 1960, and Reverend Anderson in 1963. The battle over how to sustain the church was over.
In 1965, the Crown Construction company tore down the house that had served the Shiloh Baptist congregation for over 40 years. It was replaced with a duplex that is still in use.
The story of Shiloh Baptist Church is remarkable, with many ups and downs, but it is also a story of persistence. The Church faltered at several points in its history, and yet it survived for over 40 years.
Someday, perhaps a plaque will mark the spot where Shiloh Baptist stood. For now, its memory is preserved in the National Register of Historic Places, as part of a multiple-property listing approved by the National Park Service in July, 2020.
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.
Montavilla’s Academy Theater had been in business since 1948, when, in 1966, it faced a new challenge: the Eastgate Cinema opened at SE 82nd and Harrison, just a few blocks away.
The Eastgate, created by the future movie mogul, Tom Moyer (1919-2014), was bigger and more luxurious than the Academy. It also used the latest cinema technology. The Eastgate opened with a two-auditorium theater, then added another, single-screen building. Altogether, the complex could seat 2,200. The Academy seated a little over 600. The Eastgate closed in 2001. Today, the buildings are home to the Slavic Church Emmanuel.
Ad for the grand opening of the first Eastgate Theatre. Source: Oregon Journal, October 25, 1966
Despite the Eastgate competition, the Academy managed to stay in business for several years. It had one advantage: cheaper tickets. While the Eastgate screened first-run movies, the Academy showed cheaper second-run — and sometimes even third-run — films.
Jim Teeny found other ways to stay in business. He reduced screenings from daily to weekends. On Sundays, attendance was light, so he invented Portland’s first “dollar night” movies: for $1, you could see a double feature and cartoon, and drink unlimited amounts of free Boyd’s coffee. Another gambit was to book a lot of Clint Eastwood movies, which earned the Academy a reputation as the “Clint Eastwood house” of Portland.
Clint Eastwood in The Man with No Name (1964). Source: Wikipedia
Jim stopped managing the Academy in 1972 and devoted himself exclusively to his fly-fishing business. The Teenys sold the Academy to Warren Stanley “Sam” Crawford, who continued to operate it as a movie theater until 1974. For a brief time, Crawford also used it as a concert venue.
Sometime after 1974, Crawford remodeled the building to produce a “penny-saver” newspaper called Nickel Ads. The auditorium was gutted and flattened to make space for the big six-unit printing press. According to Andrew Hessel, former manager of Nickel Ads, this advertising newspaper was successful, but it relocated in 2001.
Nickel Ads occupied the Academy Theater building from about 1975 to about 2001. Photo courtesy of Heyward Stewart.
The Academy Theater was once again empty and available. In 2002, Ty DuPuis, owner of the Flying Pie Pizzeria, bought the vacated Nickel Ads building, with the idea of reviving the Academy as a theater-pub, a model that had saved many a neighborhood theater.
In 2004, DuPuis partnered with Heyward and Julie Stewart. Together they put a team of architects, contractors, builders, and designers.
Stephanie Brown, a Portland interior designer, helped restore the theater as closely as possible to its original Streamline Moderne style while also creating a theater that meets current standards of comfort, convenience, and safety. All this on a limited budget.
But restore it to what? It was unclear what parts of the original theater looked like. Portions of the entrance and lobby remained, but the auditorium was a mystery since it had been gutted and flattened to meet the Nickel Ads’ needs. Moreover, there were only a few old photographs to guide the restoration.
The auditorium before renovation. Photo courtesy of Academy Theater
The theater’s auditorium seated over 600 people, but this was considered too large for second-run moviegoers. The solution: divide it into three small theaters.
One of the three theaters in the remodeled Academy. Photo courtesy of Academy Theater
Fortunately, the original curved walls and round ceiling-well of the lobby remained and simply needed restoration.
The restored lobby. Photo by Julio Brown
Besides restoring the theater to its 1940s look, it was also upgraded to seismic standards.
Photos of the original Academy building guided the restoration of the exterior. The rock facing added by Nickel Ads was removed. The original marquee design was restored, down to the theater’s name in curvy letters.
Left: Academy Theater building as Nickel Ads. Right: The restored Academy Theater. Photos courtesy of Academy Theater
But what was the exterior color? There were no old color photos or accounts to guide the designer. The deep blue of the Streamline Moderne Greyhound bus terminals was an appropriate choice for both period and style.
Blytheville, Arkansas Greyhound Bus Station, built in 1937. Source: Wikipedia
Not every detail of the original Academy design could be restored. The original curving pattern of the lights on the underside of the marquee could not be replicated with available materials. The ticket booth of the original Academy was not restored; it was too small to meet Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) requirements. The original front doors had round windows, but these would exceed the renovation budget.
Although not every detail of the original Academy could be replicated, the design was so successful that in 2008 it won a Preservation in Action Award from the Architectural Heritage Center/Bosco-Milligan Foundation. It was one of 15 projects chosen by a panel of judges as outstanding examples of historic preservation created during the previous 20 years.
On March 11, 2006, the restored Academy opened to a sold-out crowd. The line stretched around the block an hour before opening. Old film buffs could choose the 1947 film “Tycoon” starring John Wayne, Laraine Day, and Cedric Hardwicke, the same movie featured on the Academy’s opening night in 1948.
The resurrected Academy Theater has become a Montavilla icon and a community favorite. In 2013, when Hollywood decided it was go-digital or die, a crowdsourcing campaign raised nearly $49,000 to buy the new projectors. The Academy was able to remain in business.
Not only did the historic Academy survive, but it also helped, along with Ya Hala, Flying Pie, and Bipartisan Café, to revitalize Montavilla’s historic downtown.
Olivia Knapp, “On the Other Hand,” mural creation on the west exterior wall of the Academy Theater Aug, 29 2015. Photo by Jacob Loeb
The Academy Theater received an upgrade in 2015, with a mural added to its west side. At that time, Seattle-based artist Olivia Knapp added a pen-and-ink style mural called “On the Other Hand” to the very wall that Jim Teeny helped to repaint every year.
Olivia Knapp, “On the Other Hand,” mural on the west exterior wall of the Academy Theater Photo by Thomas Tilton
Acknowledgments:
For this article, I am grateful to the following people for the information they generously shared with me: Heyward Stewart, co-owner and manager of the Academy; Jim Teeny, son of the original owners of the Academy; Stephanie Brown, the interior designer who helped with the Academy restoration; and Andrew Hessel, a general manager of Nickel Ads.
If you want to know more:
On the remodeling, see an excellent article by Inara Verzemnieks, “Trickle up effect tips the momentum on Stark Street,” The Oregonian, April 6, 2006
I think most would agree that the Academy Theater on SE Stark is one of Montavilla’s most outstanding historical buildings. When it opened in 1948, it could claim to be the most modern building on Montavilla’s main street. How it came to be and how it survived is a story with many twists and turns.…
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.
I think most would agree that the Academy Theater on SE Stark is one of Montavilla’s most outstanding historical buildings. When it opened in 1948, it could claim to be the most modern building on Montavilla’s main street. How it came to be and how it survived is a story with many twists and turns.
It began as the dreamchild of Fred Teeny (1914-1979) and his wife Lillian Mary Shaheen Teeney (1920-2009). Fred came from an entrepreneurial family—his father and brothers owned numerous businesses in Portland. This business orientation goes back to Fred’s father, Joseph Abraham Teeny (1885-1952), who had emigrated to the U.S. from Lebanon in 1906. Joseph soon opened a dry goods store on Foster Road, and his son Fred opened his own dry goods store in the 1930s at the southwest corner of Stark and SE 80th—now the location of the 2005 building where Tinker Tavern is today.
By the mid-1940s, Fred and Lillian started thinking about building a movie theater. They decided the opposite end of the block, where their dry goods store was located, would be a good location.
The timing must have seemed right. By this time, World War II had ended. Restrictions on non-war-related construction had been lifted. Movie theater attendance was rising, hitting a new box-office high in 1946. While Montavilla already had a movie theater—the Granada—but there wasn’t one on SE Stark, Montavilla’s main street.
Presumably, the Teenys wanted a modern building, not something with the old-fashioned exotic details of the Granada. But something with a little flash, something different from the early 20th-century buildings that dominated Stark Street. So, they hired Portland James William De Young (1885-1965), an architect known for keeping up with the new architectural trends. De Young had been in business in Portland for over 30 years, and he had designed several movie theaters. The Teenys must have liked De Young’s Gresham Theater–its striking winged cylinder above the marquee would reappear in the Academy design.
J. W. De Young’s Gresham Theater design. Source: Oregon Journal, December 15, 1935
For the Teenys, De Young designed not just a theater but a building complex. On either side of the theater, he planned spaces for stores, including one for a Fred Tenny shoe store.
The Academy Theater and adjacent shops around 1948. The storefront on the left is yet unoccupied, but the others were occupied by the Montavilla Camera and Record Shop, Fred Teeny’s Montavilla Shoe Store, Fuller Wallpaper & Paint, and Gardner’s Restaurant. Photo courtesy of the Academy Theater
De Young’s plans were ready by September 1946, but construction was delayed until Fred Teeny could get a permit. His first permit was denied because the post-war U.S. government was prioritizing residential construction, but a few months later, Teeny got a permit, and his contractors, Knott, Rogers, and Dunbar, began construction.
When the theater was finished, it featured a single auditorium with a sloping floor and seats for six hundred. It also had air conditioning, a stylish lobby, and even a nursery for childcare. Behind the theater, there was a large parking lot.
The Teenys decided to name the Academy, so it would appear first in theater listings.
The grand opening took place on April 30, 1948.
A crowd gathers for the Academy Theater’s grand opening. Note the ticket booth was then in the middle of the entrance. Photo courtesy of the Academy Theater
Initially, the Teenys did not manage the theater. They leased it to Al Myers (1909-1979), owner of Montavilla’s Granada Theatre. Al and his wife, Polly (1920-1996), managed both theaters until the late 1950s.
Like many neighborhood theaters, the Academy featured second-run movies. For opening night, it was the 1947 box-office hit, “Tycoon,” starring John Wayne, Anthony Quinn, and Loraine Day.
Poster for “Tycoon” Photo source: Wikipedia
Managers Polly and Al Myers in the Academy lobby. Photo courtesy of the Academy Theater (donated by Polly Myers’ son, Vern Kjargaard)
Something special happened at the Academy in 1949. The May 28 edition of the Oregon Journal reported that movie star Janet Gaynor and her husband, fashion designer Gilbert Adrian, would be at the Academy for a screening of the 1937 movie “A Star is Born.” Gaynor starred in that movie and was nominated for an Academy Award. She did not win, but she had won the Academy’s best actress award for multiple movies in 1929.
Poster adverting the 1946 re-release of “A Star Is Born”. Source: Wikimedia
In 1958, Fred and Lillian Teeny took over the management of the Academy. At this time, they updated the theater by adding stereophonic sound and a wide, curved screen. They continued to manage the theater with help from their children, Sharon (1940-2014) and Jim (born 1945), until 1965.
Ad for the Academy’s “Grand Re-opening” in 1958. Source: Oregon Journal, January 20, 1958
The Teeny family, left to right: Sharon, Jim, Fred, and Lillian. Photo courtesy of Jim Teeny
In 1965, big-band leader Van Armitage (1917-1994) leased and managed the Academy for a brief time. But the theater did not do well, and Jim Teeny and his mother took over.
In 1966, a new problem arose. Montavilla’s first theater complex, Eastgate Cinema, opened just a few blocks away. Could the Academy survive?
To be continued in The Academy Theater Part 2.
by
Patricia Sanders
Title image: Academy Theater marquee in its renovated state Photo by Jacob Loeb, digitally edited to remove power-line
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.
Q – What are the metal rings in old Montavilla curbs?
A – Ringbolts, as these were originally called, were placed in Portland sidewalk curbs in the early 20th century as hitches for horses to stop them from running off. Individual horse owners needed hitches for private use. Merchants needed them even more for home deliveries of fuel supplies, ice, groceries, etc.
The Montavilla Meat Market on Base Line Road (now SE Stark Street) delivered to any part of the city. Source: Beaver State Herald, December 21, 1906
The iron ringbolts had the advantage of being more durable than the old wooden hitching posts and racks, which could decay. They also offered alternatives to the unfortunate use of trees as tethers. Tree-tethered horses liked to snack on tree bark, often damaging valued shade trees. Tree-hitching became illegal in Portland in 1877, yet as the Oregonian article below shows, it was still a problem in 1889.
The Oregonian, August 24, 1889
And still a problem in 1905, despite the threat of arrest or fines.
Illustrated in the October 26, 1905 edition of the Oregonian.
Ringbolts became mandatory in new sidewalk curbs in 1902 when Portland City Engineer William B. Chase ordered concrete contractors to embed one ringbolt for every 25 feet of curb. Portland ordinances specified the exact dimensions and form of the ringbolts. (This law would apply in Montavilla after it was annexed to Portland in 1906.)
Source: 1905 General Ordinances of the City of Portland
The above photograph shows just the ring portion of the ringbolt. The bolt itself was embedded in wet concrete. Photo by Thomas Tilton
Today, we can see only the top portion of the ring bolts, as the lower part is embedded in concrete.
This antique handmade iron ring bolt shows entire ringbolt. Found on Ebay on January 7, 2026.
As a means of secure attachments, ringbolts have a long history. The Oxford English Dictionary identifies 1599 as the earliest written example of the term ringbolt used to describe a means of fastening ships to walls.
Ringbolts, by the way, are still manufactured today for nautical uses.
A modern ringbolt. Photo courtesy of Sheridan Marine.
When automobiles replaced horses and hitching rings were no longer needed, they came to be seen by some as a public nuisance. In August 1938, for example, a man stumbled over a hitching ring in Portland and fractured his ankle bone. Portland City Attorney Lyman E. Lattourette told the City Council that these relics posed a public safety hazard and should be removed. He advised homeowners to bid their rusty hitching rings farewell and to chisel them away. One Oregonian reader, Spencer Akers, objected. To him, they were priceless antiques and links to the past.
But others saw them as useless. Oregon Journal columnist Dick Fagan, for example, ridiculed ringbolts in his “Mill Ends” columns of the 1960s. He called them “the most useless things in the city.” In 1967, he came across a jeep and a motorboat hitched to the rings.
As Fagan was proclaiming ringbolts useless, Portland contractors were removing the hitching rings when replacing or repairing curbs. The tide of destruction shifted in 1978 when a Ladd’s Addition homeowner, Paul C. Paulsen, objected to the removal of his horse ring. To him, they were not useless. They were pleasant reminders of the past.
Paul C. Paulsen with his ringbolt still attached to his curb and a sign saying the rings may be needed soon.
City Commissioner Connie McCready was also alarmed to learn about the ringbolt removals. She created a policy allowing homeowners to request replacement of the rings after curb work was completed, with a $5 fee to cover the additional labor. Thanks to Paulse and McCready, Portland is one of the few cities with an abundance of antique ringbolts.
Portland’s reputation as a city of many ringbolts was augmented by Scott Wayne Indiana’s Portland Horse Project, launched in 2005. At that time, he began attaching miniature toy horses to ringbolts in Portland’s older neighborhoods, where embedded ringbolts in curbs abounded. The idea caught on, and individual Portlanders began attaching toy animals of various sorts to their own ringbolts. It became a signature Portland idiosyncrasy. Today, Indiana’s Portland Horse Project Facebook page has 5.1 thousand followers. He even has a short video on his website showing you how to tether your own small creature to a ring (https://www.facebook.com/PortlandHorseProject). For more examples, you can find them in Scott’s book, Portland Horse Project.
A tethered toy tiger, 2007. Source: Wikipedia
End note: Do you have a miniature toy animal hitched to your ring bolt? If so, please share a photo of it with us.
By
Patricia Sanders
Title image of Toy horses tethered to a ringbolt in Montavilla Photo by Thomas Tilton
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.
Q – Was cycling popular in Montavilla’s early years?
A –Soon after the invention of the modern two-wheeler, the bicycle craze swept the country. It reached its peak in the 1890s and early 20th century. In Montavilla, there were not only local bicyclists but also Portlanders who liked to head for the countryside in east Multnomah County. A popular bicycle route, the Base Line Cycle Path, went right through Montavilla on what is now Stark Street.
One sign of cycling’s rising popularity is the increase in bicycle sales in Portland. They grew from 2,000 in 1897 to between 14,000 and 18,000 in 1899. There was also an increase in Portland bicycle dealers: from 11 in 1895 to a high of 24 in 1899, then dwindling to 12 in 1905.
What accounts for the bicycle’s popularity? Partly, it was the thrill of riding fast and far wherever you wanted to go—at least, compared to walking. But, also, the availability of the new Safety bicycle and lower prices made bicycling less dangerous and more affordable. A new Vanguard, for instance, cost $85.00 in 1896, but by 1898, you could get a mail-order Acme for $39.50. This was still a high price for the average worker making less than $800 a year, with women, minorities, and laborers earning even less.
Portland cyclists liked to make excursions to the countryside for the fresh air, exercise, and scenery. But most roads were poorly maintained. They were also crowded with horse-drawn vehicles, whose drivers did not yield kindly to cyclists.
To solve this problem, bicycle organizations—particularly the United Wheelmen’s Association—advocated the creation of cycle paths along existing roads, like those already found in other U.S. cities. But who would pay for them? The answer was a road-poll tax on bicyclists who would use the paths. The United Wheeling Association issued tags to all its dues-paying members—1 dollar for men and 50 cents for women and minors—to help pay for bicycle paths. Then, in 1901, the Oregon legislature passed a bill requiring all those who used bicycles to pay an annual tax of $1.
The United Wheeling Association’s 1898 bicycle tag. Source: The Oregonian, August 19, 1898, page 10
One of these paths headed east from Portland and passed through Montavilla’s main commercial street on Base Line Road (now Stark Street). Multnomah County constructed four-foot-wide paths on either side of the road. By March 1900, they were completed from the Morrison Bridge to Montavilla. Later, they extended as far as Gresham.
An Oregonian reporter offered a preview of this new bicycle route in the newspaper’s March 26, 1900 edition:
“As the road is as level as any around Portland, and runs through a beautiful country, the route will no doubt be a favorite one. There is, to be sure, a stiff climb up the Mount Tabor hill, but there are no urgent reasons why the rider who is not inclined to exertion cannot get off and walk, and the view as the road swings around the north side of Mount Tabor is worth twice the climb. A dozen of the sinuous branches of Columbia Slough may be seen shining in the distance, the Peninsula country is spread before the rider, and closer at hand the cottages of Montavilla form a little city of themselves.”
The article was accompanied by a map showing the routes to the bicycle paths east of the Willamette River.
“Routes to Bicycle Paths,” Morning Oregonian, March 26, 1900. North points right. The Stark St./Base Line route is the vertical line below the “R” in River at the top of the map. Source: Historic Oregon Newspapers
The Morning Oregonian of October 16, 1900, called the Base Line Road cycle path “the most popular and attractive drive out of Portland.” But what did Montavillans think of the throngs of weekend bikers whisking through their community? What did they make of those athletic wheelwomen—some undoubtedly wearing the new, shockingly “masculine” attire: bloomers, knickerbockers, and divided skirts?
A woman wearing knickerbockers on a lady’s bike. Such “masculine garb” marked the beginning of more functional clothing for women. Source: Maria E. Ward, Bicycling for Ladies, N. Y., Brentano’s, 1896 (Google book)
Whatever they thought of the bicyclists and the new, controversial clothing, some were definitely worried about the dangers of bicycle traffic. In 1901, 80 residents signed a petition complaining about frequent accidents involving children. The County Court sided with the petitioners and ordered bicyclists to use the middle of Base Line—rather than pathways—for three blocks in Montavilla.
Business owners who offered food and drink no doubt welcomed the weekend bicycle traffic. An article on the bicycle trend in The Oregonian of September 17, 1899, mentions farmhouses and booths along the Base Line Road bicycle route offering lunch and refreshments for bicyclists. In Montavilla, they could stop for sweet treats at Mrs. Winnie Burdett’s confectionery shop—located about where the Academy Theater is today. Or they might enjoy libations at William Grimes’ roadhouse or Captain Schneider’s beer garden, both at the corner of Base Line and 80th.
Grimes’ 5 Mile Road House at Baseline (Stark) and 80th Avenue. Photo courtesy of Bud Holland Collection
This boost to Montavilla businesses was short-lived. As the bicycle fad faded, fewer paid the bicycle license tax, so path maintenance began to slip. Still, in 1903, the Base Line path was one of the most used, even though it had not been repaired for a year. By 1906, Portland’s cycle paths were generally disappearing. The Base Line Road path continued a little longer, but it is not mentioned in newspaper accounts after 1908.
Many Montavillans may have been happy to see the weekend bicyclists go, but soon new and faster vehicles—motorcycles and automobiles—appeared. An item in the local Beaver State Herald on February 27, 1913, described bicycle riding as a little better than walking and as requiring too much human energy. The motorcycle, on the other hand, needed only a little gasoline and some oil for the joints. “All you do is hold the reigns [sic] and do a little steering, no work, no danger of exhaustion, just like sailing.”
And then there was the automobile. In October 1902, a car traveling 35 miles per hour in Montavilla prompted locals to ask the Oregon legislature to impose speed limits on county roads. The world was changing from slow to high-speed propulsion.
Sunday Oregonian, September 16, 1906 Source: Historic Oregon Newspapers
Title Image: “Cycle touring,” Harper’s Weekly, April 11, 1896 (artist, A. B. Frost): Source: Library of Congress LC-USZ62-108253
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.
A –Montavilla was actually served by two separate lines, plus one very short-lived one. These routes were part of the expanding streetcar service east of the Willamette to provide transit for the Portland area’s rapidly growing population of the 1880s.
Montavilla’s first subdivision—and its namesake Mount Tabor Villa Addition—went on the market in 1889. Buyers probably assumed that rail service would soon arrive. After all, advertising for the Addition included a map that showed a streetcar line to and from downtown Portland on Villa Avenue (now NE Glisan Street) and going directly through the subdivision.
These details of the 1889 Hart-Royal Company broadside for Mount Tabor Villa Addition show an extension of the Morrison Street Bridge Motor Line going through the subdivision (the red rectangle on the right). Courtesy of the Oregon Historical Society
A streetcar line did not reach Montavilla until 1892. It was an extension of the City and Suburban Railway’s East Ankeny line to Montavilla. It traveled east on Glisan to what is now 82nd Avenue, but it did not go south through the Mt. Tabor Villa subdivision. Service began on July 26, 1892. The fare was then five cents for residents or property owners who had contributed to the construction, and ten cents for everyone else.
Ticket for a Montavilla streetcar Courtesy of the City of Portland ArchivesThe Ankeny line to Montavilla was a convenient way for riders to get to downtown Portland. Montavilla car 472 is on the left. Courtesy of the City of Portland Archives
Motorman standing next to a Montavilla car. Courtesy of the City of Portland Archives
Streetcars can be powered in various ways. The type that came to Montavilla was electricity-powered and called a trolley. The name comes from the wheel that travels along an electrified overhead wire. The trolley collects electricity and transmits it down a pole to the car’s motor.
Left: a trolley wheel and pole. Right: a trolley wheel. Source: Wikipedia
The Glisan car line had one problem. It was a bit of a hike for commuters living south of Stark. They did have rail service briefly after the Mt. Tabor & Eastern Railroad Company built a 2.5-mile track from the Mount Tabor terminal at 69th and Belmont to 102nd and Stark in Russellville. The service was available only in 1892 and 1893. The Oregonian of June 29, 1900, explained that the railway failed because Mt. Tabor’s steep incline made it too expensive to operate. The iron tracks were then removed and sold.
This detail from the 1891 Atlas of the City of Portland shows the planned route for the Mount Tabor and Eastern Railroad line. Source: Portland City Archives
Montavilla’s south-of-Stark residents had to wait until 1900 for more convenient trolley service. Until then, traveling to downtown Portland meant either walking to Glisan Street or trudging up Mt. Tabor to the 69th Avenue terminal. In 1899, The Oregonian declared that Montavilla needed better trolley service and recommended that the City & Suburban Railway Company build an extension from Glisan to Stark along 80th Avenue (then known as Hibbard Street).
The railway company agreed to build an extension (called a spur) on 80th. To reduce costs, they took track from Glisan between 80th and 82nd and used this for part of the construction. (In 1911, operators extended the Glisan Street rail to NE 90th Avenue.) The 80th-Avenue spur opened in October 1900.
The new spur rail did not satisfy the south-of-Stark folks for long. In 1912, pressure mounted for easier access to downtown Portland. They wanted an extension of the Mount Tabor line, which then still ended at 69th and Belmont. On September 11, 1912, Father James B. Fitzpatrick told the Portland City Council the need was urgent. Hundreds of his parishioners, he said, had to walk great distances through mud and dust to get to a streetcar. The South Montavillans prevailed. In early December 1912, crews extended the Mount Tabor line from 69th Avenue to SE 88th Avenue and Yamhill. Property owners paid $14,000 for the extension, and the Portland Railway, Light & Power Company paid approximately the same amount.
Detail of a 1943 Trolley Map of Portland showing the two lines that once served Montavilla. At the top (marked MV) is the Glisan Street line, with its 80th Avenue spur and the extension to 90th Avenue. At the bottom is the Mount Tabor line (marked MT) extended to Yamhill and 88th. Source: Vintage Portland, May 4, 2010
In 1948, streetcar service ceased in Montavilla and other lines. Road crews covered rails with asphalt. Buses replaced trolleys. It was the end of Portland’s streetcar era. But if you look closely at the street on NE 80th between Glisan and Stark, you can detect where the tracks are buried. A small section of the rail used to be visible before the latest resurfacing of 80th Avenue.
By
Patricia Sanders
Main article image “East Ankeny Line Streetcar.” Photo courtesy of the Oregon Historical Society
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.
Q – Who is Montavilla’s Vestal School named after?
A –Vestal School is named after John L. Vestal (1852-1925). In 1925, he bequeathed the vast majority of his estate to the Portland public school district. It was the largest donation ever given to the district, according to The American School Board Journal of May 1925. Vestal left assets then valued at $200,000—equivalent to nearly $3,700,000 today and twice the size of Simon Benson’s $100,000 gift to Benson Polytechnic School.
Vestal‘s will did not stipulate how the school board should use his donation. He trusted the board of directors to put it to its best use. Portland’s population had been expanding for several years, and schools had become overcrowded. Montavilla School on SE 76th Avenue was one of these schools. So, the board decided to allocate the bulk of Vestal’s bequest to building a new school in Montavilla that would be larger and more centrally located.
The board also decided to name the new school after Vestal, in gratitude for his generosity. But this may not have been to John Vestal’s liking. According to the Oregon Journal of March 22, 1925, he was a “modest and retiring” man and would not have wanted a school to be named for him. Nevertheless, his name—in large letters—was inscribed atop the school’s east facade.
Photos of John L. Vestal School. Photo by Jacob Loeb
Today, John L. Vestal’s name is still an everyday sight in Montavilla. But who was he? What is his story? And why did he give almost his entire fortune to benefit generations of Portland school children?
Photo of John L. Vestal. Source: Portland Public Schools
Little is actually written about John Vestal. And it requires a lot of digging to gather just a few verifiable facts.
John Vestal first appears in public records in the 1860 U. S. census. At that time, John was nine and living with his mother, Elizabeth M. Fowler Vestal (1826-1874), in Lafayette, Tippecanoe County, Indiana. John was attending school. His mother was a seamstress. Both were born in Indiana. John’s father, Benjamin Elwood Vestal (1820-1892), was absent from the household. No other children appear in the 1860 census or in other records. John was apparently an only child.
While John and his mother were living in Lafayette, an event occurred that probably lodged in John’s memories. On February 11, 1861, President-elect Abraham Lincoln stopped briefly in that town on his way to Washington, D. C. He gave a brief speech from the back of his railroad car before heading off to nearby Indianapolis. Maybe John and his mother were in the crowd — or, if not, surely heard about the exciting event. Later, when John registered to vote in Portland, he consistently identified as a Republican, then the party of Lincoln.
Proposed “Lincoln in Lafayette” plaque. Source: Lafayette Journal and Courier
Digging deeper into John’s family history, I found that he descended from a long line of Quakers. His father probably told his son about how he and his siblings joined the multitude of Quaker farmers who left North Carolina in the 1830s in opposition to slavery. Most of the Vestal family settled in Indiana.
Whether John was a practicing Quaker, I could not determine. I found only a few hints of an association. One is John’s relationship with his cousin, James Vestal, and his family. They were among many Quakers who moved to Newberg, Oregon, in the late 19th century. The James Vestal family arrived in 1889. From 1891, notices in the Newberg Graphic newspaper indicate that John was a frequent visitor. The Newberg Quaker church records show that John also made several small donations. Perhaps on his visits to Newberg, he was impressed by the community’s commitment to education. On his first visit in 1891, he probably noticed the recently built Pacific College. That college was later renamed George Fox University, in honor of the founder of the Society of Friends.
For his time, John Vestal was a well-educated man. Neither of his parents had attended school, and most people only attended elementary school. John, however, went to both elementary and high school. He attended elementary school in Lafayette, Indiana, and—for some unknown reason—went to high school in Decatur, Illinois. In 1870, John was one of only eight to receive his high school diploma.
By 1873, John and his mother had reunited with John’s father in Portland. Benjamin Vestal had been working there as a butcher since around 1865.
In Portland, John discovered another source of mental stimulation: the newly formed Philomathean Society. The Oregon Journal of October 9, 1923, described it as “a serious group of young men bent on self-improvement.” They met weekly to discuss challenging subjects, such as parliamentary law and current issues. Sometimes they debated other serious-minded groups. John was one of the surviving members who gathered to celebrate their 50th Anniversary in 1923.
By 1875, John was working as a clerk in Portland’s oldest drugstore, S. G. Skidmore. He worked there until 1886, when he opened his own drugstore on First Street in downtown Portland.
I found out little about John’s life as a drugstore owner, just regular listings in Portland’s city directory. But I did come across his light-hearted contribution about a druggist’s life in The Spatula, a magazine for pharmacists. The February 1907 issue included six illustrations about an incident involving a bored pharmacist and a potential female customer. Readers were invited to provide appropriate captions. John sent in a few humorous, rhyming lines, and they appeared in the April issue.
Illustrations 1, 2 and 6 published in the February 1907 issue of The Spatula.
Above is a portion of John Vestal’s winning text published in The Spatula’s April 1907 edition.
The same year Vestal opened his drugstore, he married Ruth Almira Culver (1855-1889). Like John, she was a Decatur High School graduate. She received her diploma in 1873, but their attendance overlapped slightly since Decatur High required three years for a diploma in John’s time there and four years in Ruth’s.
After Ruth graduated, she taught third grade in Decatur for several years. Then, in 1882, she moved to Portland with her mother and brothers, where she taught at Failing and Couch elementary schools. Very likely, Ruth shared her teaching experiences and philosophy with her husband. Perhaps when she was teaching at the old Failing School, she described the school’s deplorable conditions, such as the dirt floor in the basement that served as a play area and the lack of ventilation requiring windows to be perpetually open to the elements.
Unfortunately, John and Ruth’s marriage was short-lived. Ruth died in childbirth on March 26, 1889, and John never remarried.
Grave marker for Ruth Almira Vestal in Riverview Cemetery, Portland, Oregon. Photo by Thomas Tilton
John experienced other close losses in Portland: his mother died in 1874 and his father in 1892. Perhaps John referred to these and other losses in his poem, “The First Violin.”
Excerpt from “The First Violin,” published in the May 30, 1920 Oregonian, one of several of his poems this newspaper published in 1920.
Vestal closed his drugstore in 1907, but he did not leave the pharmaceutical trade. He went on to build a fortune by operating a string of drugstores and augmenting his wealth by investing in real estate and tax-exempt securities.
John Vestal died at age 73 on March 18, 1925, in Portland’s Glen Haven Rest Home. He was buried next to his wife, his mother, and his father in Riverview Cemetery. As soon as his bequest to Portland’s public schools became known, it made headlines in the Portland press. The Oregon Journal of March 22, 1925, for example, declared that his magnanimous donation was likely to make his name “a perpetual landmark in Portland.”
Page-one headline in the Oregon Journal, March 20, 1925. The total value of Vestal’s gift is underestimated; it took some time to calculate the full value of his assets.
Vestal had no immediate heirs. He left a few small donations to friends and relatives, but most of his wealth went to the public-school board.
Vestal’s generous gift to public schools did not go unchallenged. Three of his second cousins claimed to be his rightful heirs. They filed a lawsuit in 1926, alleging that Portland’s school board could not legally receive real or personal property. They lost their suit and appealed. On May 22, 1928, the Supreme Court of Oregon ruled against the plaintiffs. Now, the Portland school district board was free to allocate the Vestal donation.
In 1928, the board proposed building a new school to replace the old Montavilla School and decided to name it the John L. Vestal School. In 1929, the board hired architect George Howell Jones (1887-1950) to design the school building. It was ready for students in April 1930. On April 4, the cornerstone was dedicated, and some 800 children marched to the music of the school orchestra from Montavilla School to the new Vestal School.
John L. Vestal School cornerstone, erected in 1929. Photo by Thomas Tilton
Within months, the old Montavilla School was demolished and the salvage offered for sale in local newspaper want ads.
In February 1929, the school board authorized a monument commemorating John Vestal and his generosity. It was erected next to his grave in Riverview Cemetery. The monument is inscribed “He loved children and for their education gave his fortune to the public schools of his city.”
Monument honoring John L. Vestal. Photo by Thomas Tilton
After the completion of Vestal School, John’s bequest was used for additional public-school needs. The school board set up an interest-bearing fund with the residuals of the original donation. This money was used periodically for other projects, such as the psychiatric clinic established in 1932 to assist school children.
One thing I never discovered in my research: what does the “L” in John L. Vestal’s name stand for?
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.
In the days before Montavilla became a popular suburb in the early 1900s, it was largely farmland. Gradually, fruit, vegetables, nuts, and other crops were displaced by houses and commercial buildings. But as late as the 1920s, there were still pockets of arable land in sections of northeastern and southeastern Montavilla. I recently learned about the Newell and Matsen cut-flower farm on NE 87th Avenue that may deserve the distinction of being Montavilla’s last farm.
The Newell and Matsen floral nursery after a snowstorm with owners Harry Newell (left) and Hank Matsen (right) and long-term employee Mel Wilkinson (center). Photo courtesy of the Matsen Family Photo Archive
Harry L. Newell (1891-1976) and Hank F. Matsen (1894-1962) established the business in 1922. Hank’s son, Kenneth H. Matsen (1921-2024), continued it until 1973.
I learned about this business from two of Kenneth Matsen’s daughters, Nancy Palomino and Marje Rhine. They suggested that I speak with their mother, 100-year-old Janice Urquhart Matsen, who knew a great deal about it. So, I interviewed Janice, and she generously shared her memories and allowed me to use photos from the extensive family collection.
Janice Urquhart and Kenneth Matsen in a Newell and Matsen greenhouse shortly before their marriage in 1946.
Janice has a remarkable memory. She has stories to share about her life in Montavilla and about the flower business. She lived in Montavilla for most of her life, and her memories go back to her earliest years. She remembers, for example, entering Vestal School‘s first kindergarten class in 1930. In the 1930s, she walked to school along Glisan Street, and she can tell you stories about nearly every business on her route. She also told me about a Depression-era “shanty town” just west of NE 67th Avenue and how her father gave food to the men who knocked at the back door of their nearby home.
Janice’s memories of the Newell-Matsen flower farm date back to her marriage to Ken Matsen in 1946. At that time, he worked on the farm, and for a time, the newlyweds lived in his parents’ house located on the farm property. Ken worked on the farm until it closed in 1973. So even though Janice did not work in the business—although she lent a hand from time to time—she was in a position to know how it operated.
The business was founded by two young men, Harry Newell and Hank Matsen, just after their service in World War I. The two men had known each other for several years, and Newell married Matsen’s sister Rose in 1920. Newell had been employed in the floral business for several years, but Matsen had established himself as a dentist after the war. Somehow, Newell convinced his new brother-in-law that a flower business was worth trying.
Newell knew there was money to be made in this trade. He had worked for Rahn and Herbert, one of the largest nurseries in Oregon, with greenhouses in Clackamas. The flower trade was growing, according to the 1920 U.S. census. So, Matsen gave up his dental practice and purchased a large plot of land on 87th Avenue, just north of Glisan from his mother Christina Matsen Tranberg (1852-1934).
Christina Matsen Tranberg’s house and property before the Newell-Matsen greenhouses were built. Photo courtesy of the Matsen Family Photo Archive
Newell and Matsen glass greenhouses under construction. Photo courtesy of the Matsen Family Photo Archive
This 1922 plumbing permit establishes a beginning date for the Newell-Matsen business. It shows that the dry well and rain drains needed for the greenhouses had been approved on September 30, 1922. Source: Portlandmaps
The 1928 Sanborn map below indicates the location and scale of the Newell and Matsen greenhouses. It was opposite another farm, the Benedict Nursery, which grew shrubs and trees. The Benedict Nursery, by the way, is now the eastern portion of the Multnomah University campus.
The 1928 Sanborn map above shows the Newell and Matsen Nursery in the upper right
Detail of the 1928 Sanborn map
The Newell and Matsen nursery sold its flowers in a variety of ways. They supplied local florist shops. They did wholesale business through the Oregon Flower Growers Association warehouse on Grand Avenue. Some flowers were shipped by train to other locales. And they also created funeral sprays.
Ken Matsen continued working in the business after his father died in 1962, and he became the sole proprietor when Newell retired in 1967. He renamed the business Matsen Greenhouses.
Newell and Matsen grew yearly crops. In this photo, the crops are carnations (left) and snapdragons (right). Photo courtesy of the Matsen Family Photo Archive
In the early 1970s, Ken faced at least two significant challenges. One was the deadly tornado that swept through Portland and Vancouver on April 5, 1972. Vancouver suffered greater losses — in both lives and property — but the Matsen greenhouses were among Portland’s few damaged properties. When the Portland tornado touched down on his property, it struck the greenhouses, breaking so much glass that it took months to repair, and lifted a tree into the air.
The Oregon Journal, April 6, 1972, page 6
Janice told me about another challenge to the Matsen business: the increasing competition from California flower growers, who did not have the expense of oil heating required during Oregon’s colder winters. By 1973, petroleum prices had skyrocketed due to OPEC’s oil embargo against the U.S. Consequently, California growers could ship flowers by rail and undercut Oregon prices.
Ken Matsen closed the nursery business in 1973, but he stayed in the flower trade, working for flower wholesalers on Swan Island.
Kenneth Matsen resting from greenhouse work. Photo courtesy of the Matsen Family Photo Archive
If you want to see a remnant of the Newell and Matsen flower farm, you can find the remodeled 1908 Matsen farmhouse at 750 NE 87th Avenue. Now it’s surrounded by mostly single and multifamily housing. But a bit of the more open, rural land is preserved in Montavilla Park and the Multnomah University campus.
The remodeled Matsen home at 750 NE 87th Avenue today. Photo by Thomas Tilton
Note:
Some of you may remember when Montavilla still had open spaces other than parks and school playgrounds. Please feel free to share your memories about remnants of Montavilla’s rural past. You can email them to me at history@montavilla.net.
Acknowledgements:
Much of the information in this story was generously supplied by Matsen family members. I want to thank Janice and her daughters for their help. Janice shared her invaluable memories with me in two interviews. Her daughter Marie Matsen sorted through thousands of family photos and selected most of the ones appearing in this article; she also provided additional details about the Newell-Matsen business. Janice’s daughters, Marje Rhine and Nancy Palomino, brought my attention to the Newell and Matsen flower business, setting me on this quest.
Correction: An earlier version of this article had Janice Urquhart Matsen’s first name typed at Joyce in several locations and Marje Rhine’s first name spelled as Marjae. The text is now corrected and Montavilla News regrets this error.
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