Seattle Now & Then: Seattle International Raceway, Kent, 1979

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THEN: During a weekend race, 11 members of the Washington Motorcycle Road Racing Association line up with eight bikes in 1979 at the northwest end of the pit wall at Seattle International Raceway in Kent. (Courtesy Bruce Scholten)
NOW: At Pacific Raceways (formerly Seattle International Raceway), 25 WMRRA members with 13 motorcycles gather at roughly the same spot. They are (front, from left) Tim Fowler (#219, Group W Honda 160), Tico Sandoval (#213, WMRRA second vice-president, Group W Honda 160), Duncan Craig, Tim O’Mahoney (#220, Group W Honda), Bruce Scholten, Jeff Wieand (#228, Group W Honda 160), Kristie Tenneson (ex-president), Chris Loomis (ex-president); C.J. “Siege” Hobbs, Michael Meagher (#125, on wife Jane Steele’s Yamaha RZ350 Yamaha), Adam Faussett (#24, Tiger Tail Yamaha), Dan Zlock (#125, top hat), Kevin Pinkstaff (2024 champ, yellow ski hat), Garrett Visser (#284), Dale Zlock (crouching with trophy), Vance Visser, Steve Ishii (#141), unidentified, Martha Young-Scholten, unidentified, Brian Burchill (#48), Matt Staples (#17), unidentified, Marc Brown (#135) and Steve Delvechio. The association enjoyed a 50th anniversary banquet and award ceremony Dec. 14 at Green River Community College. For more info, visit WMRRA.com.

Published in The Seattle Times online on Jan. 2, 2025
and in Pacific NW Magazine of the printed Times on Jan. 5, 2025

For 50 years, racing motorcyclists have thrived on ‘need for speed’
By Clay Eals

I’d like to think I can write about anything, but some topics give me the willies. Such as motorcycles.

In 1972, a friend and I, both 21 and riding a Triumph 650, improbably survived an accident unscathed while cruising at 70 mph on Interstate 5 in Oregon. A novice biker, I’d foolishly forgotten a posted “abrupt edge” construction sign, so while crossing to the left lane while passing a truck, I dumped our bike. Astounded and aghast after we spun to a halt, I vowed never to ride a motorcycle again.

And I haven’t.

THEN: At Seattle International Raceway in 1979, sidecars (three-wheelers with driver and passenger) speed through a curve. Today called Pacific Raceways, the nine-turn course has a 125-foot elevation gain. (Courtesy Bruce Scholten)

So last fall when a colleague suggested I showcase the 50th anniversary of the all-volunteer Washington Motorcycle Road Racing Association (WMRRA), I gulped. Could I go there? Maybe I could explore the group’s longevity by uncovering the zeal of its members.

THEN: Bruce Scholten (center) and Chris Miyamoto confer as Jim Garrison refuels Team Holy Grail’s Honda during a six-hour endurance race in 1979 at SIR. (Courtesy Bruce Scholten)

When asked, they eagerly cite a “need for speed,” embodied by events where some exceed (no typo) 140 mph.

“You feel like you’re flying. It’s the most fun you can have outside your house, legally or illegally,” says club historian Bruce Scholten. “Unless you jump in now and then, you feel like your life is meaningless.”

Scholten, of Edmonds, entered sanctioned races in the mid-1970s at Seattle International Raceway, now Pacific Raceways, in Kent. There, on its 2.25-mile course, members seek high average lap-speeds in 10-minute races and hours-long “endurance” runs. They also vie regionally.

NOW: “Mr. WMRRA” is former racer and president Chris Loomis. “It’s been a wonderful 50 years. More exciting than being a Marine. Next to the Marines, it’s been my life.” (Clay Eals)

Such contests invigorate Shoreline’s Chris Loomis, an oft-president dubbed Mr. WMRRA (spoken as WOMM-ruh) for his half-century’s involvement. He calls the club’s 400 members “family.”

The sentiment also feeds ex-president Colt Bristow, of Auburn. “We all know how dangerous street riding can be between cars, trucks, speed limits and road conditions,” he says. “But this is the only environment of people who are vested in your family and well-being and want to see you have fun and be competitive and provide a prepared, groomed, custom experience at its absolute potential.”

NOW: Colt Bristow, former president: “Racing is focus. When you’re on the bike and you’re at that level of attention, you are solely focused on what you and the machine are doing at the given time.” (Clay Eals)

Some, Bristow admits, make “exceeding thresholds” the goal. “Unfortunately, they tend to get hurt more,” he says, but at least WMRRA provides nearby medical response.

Speed, says Dale Zlock of Spanaway, a veteran racer with his brother Dan, fuels success. He says he nearly died at an out-of-town race in 1987. “I broke multiple bones and ruptured some internal parts. I’m lucky to even be here, so yes, that does go through your mind,” he says. “But you put it aside. It goes into another compartment. You go out and do what you got to do.”

NOW: Veteran racers Dale (left) and Dan Zlock. Says Dan, “It’s not the work, it’s not the equipment. Winning is what drives you. The feeling of winning never goes bad, never gets old. And staying at the top of the game.” (Clay Eals)

Well, the gears may not lock into place for me, but these racers’ passion is palpable.

WEB EXTRAS

Big thanks to Bruce Scholten and Martha Young-Scholten for their invaluable help with this installment!

To see Clay Eals‘ 360-degree video of the “Now” prospect and compare it with the “Then” photos, and to hear this column read aloud by Clay, check out our Seattle Now & Then 360 version of the column.

Below, you also will find video of longtime WMRRA members talking of their passion for the association and for motorcycle racing in general, 6 additional photos and 10 historical clips from The Seattle Times and Seattle Post-Intelligencer online archive (available via Seattle Public Library), Newspapers.com and Washington Digital Newspapers, that were helpful in the preparation of this column.

THEN: In 1979 at SIR, nationally rated racer Diane Cox leans in. (Courtesy Bruce Scholten)
THEN: In 1986, Craig Tinder (02) and Lars Gilmour (13) lean into Turn 10 at SIR. (Bruce Scholten)
THEN: Ray Baker (66) races with a prototype Yamaha in 1987 at SIR. (Bruce Scholten)
THEN: Steve Trinder (4) leads Shawn McDonald (28) and Doug Renfrow (2) past a tire wall circa 1989 at SIR. (Courtesy WMRRA)
NOW: Former racer Christopher James “Siege” Hobbs displays his WMRRA artwork. “Once you start racing, you’re a racer,” he says. “There’s no backing out or retiring from it. You can sell your bikes, but you’ve still got that spark.” (Clay Eals)
NOW: The 2.25-mile course at Pacific Raceways features nine turns and a 125-foot elevation gain. For more info, visit PacificRaceways.com. (Courtesy Pacific Raceways)
June 1, 1975, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p23.
Nov. 14, 1975, Seattle Times, p21.
June 9, 1978, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p23.
Sept. 8, 1982, Seattle Times, p98.
June 6, 1986, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p20.
June 10, 1988, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p24.
Dec. 20, 1992, Seattle Times, p117.
April 20, 2000, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p39.
July 20, 2004, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p27.
June 20, 2004, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p32.

Seattle Now & Then Postscript: ‘Roll on, Kalakala’ from Harbor Avenue, late 1950s

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THEN: Promenading south along the Seattle waterfront circa late 1950s as it’s about to pass the Smith Tower is MV Kalakala. (Max R. Jensen, courtesy Dan Kerlee)
NOW: From the same vantage but farther away along Harbor Avenue in West Seattle, maritime musician Jon Pontrello stands at Salty’s on Alki, where in 2015 restaurateur Gerry Kingen placed the wheelhouse, drive shaft and other salvaged parts of the Kalakala for public display. (The portholed wheelhouse more recently was encased in anchor fencing.) To see Pontrello perform “Roll On, Kalakala,” visit PaulDorpat.com. For info on his 3 p.m. Jan. 19 show with Seattle family folkie Al Hirsch, visit JonPontrello.com. (Clay Eals)

Published in The Seattle Times online on Dec. 21, 2024
and in Pacific NW Magazine of the printed Times on Dec. 22, 2024

The ferry Kalakala’s rise and demise roll on for maritime musician
By Clay Eals

He’s resurfaced. Still tunefully trolling the seas, Jon Pontrello again embraces a lament, this time for a more recent lost future.

THEN: The steamer Clallam was launched April 15, 1903, commissioned July 3, 1903, and sank the night of Jan. 8, 1904. For a thoroughly documented account of its demise, visit HistoryLink.org. (Courtesy Puget Sound Maritime Historical Society)

When “Now & Then” first encountered the acupuncturist and singer-songwriter, we showcased his epic ballad “The Bellwether Sheep of the Mosquito Fleet.” It told a heartbreaking story. In severe weather in 1904, a stubborn sheep refused to board the stately SS Clallam, which left Pier 1 downtown and sank in the Strait of Juan de Fuca, killing 56.

Today, Queen Anne-based Pontrello, 38, is musically resurrecting memories of a better-known nautical tragedy. It wasn’t fatal for any mortal, but it evoked neglect and destruction that broke the hearts of countless fans of arguably the most attention-getting vessel in Seattle history.

THEN: This brochure is just one of countless pieces of evidence of the Kalakala’s enduring appeal. (Courtesy Dan Kerlee)

We speak of MV Kalakala, the streamlined “silver swan” (or “slug”), whose unique Art Deco charm graced our waters from 1935 to 1967. Its Chinook jargon name meaning “flying bird,” the aircraft-inspired ferry was celebrated in spite of design flaws and spooky vibration. Our beloved column founder, Paul Dorpat, once labeled it “the most popular man-made creation on Puget Sound until the raising of the Space Needle in 1962.”

Also oft-recounted has been the Kalakala’s tortuous, extended demise. Pontrello, already having penned a musical obituary for the ship’s would-be savior, Peter Bevis, decided to memorialize the Kalakala itself this January, the 10th anniversary of its 2015 dismantling in Tacoma.

NOW: Jack Broom, author of “Roll On, Kalakala.” When first written in 1998, it could be heard by dialing a toll-free telephone number listed in The Seattle Times. Broom wrote a new final verse in 2015. (Judy Broom)

His research turned up melodic gold. He uncovered 1998 lyrics by 30-year Seattle Times journalist Jack Broom for “Roll On, Kalakala,” set to Woody Guthrie’s “Roll On, Columbia,” whose chorus echoed “Goodnight, Irene” by Huddie Ledbetter (“Leadbelly”).

The lyrics were upbeat because at the time there was great citywide hope for restoring the rotting ferry. What riveted Pontrello, however, and inspired him to record the song was that following the Kalakala’s demolition, Broom rewrote its final verse, injecting brutal poignancy:

Now you’re no longer guided by nautical charts
They’ve busted you up into 10 million parts
You’re gone from our waters, but never our hearts
So long, Kalakala, so long

Traditionally, sorrow and the sea are eternal musical partners. But Pontrello eyes the theme expansively. He says the Kalakala saga reflects universal truths “about accepting fate with grace and the way we carry loss inside us — a transcendent way to keep the dream alive even though it wasn’t realized this time.”

Poster for Jan. 19, 2025, show. (courtesy Jon Pontrello)

The sentiment can be all the more vivid and affecting when experienced in person. Accordingly, Pontrello will perform the Kalakala elegy during a 3 p.m. Jan. 19 matinee show at the Rabbit Box, 94 Pike St.  in the Pike Place Market.

Roll on, Jon!

A view of the downtown skyline through the Kalakala wheelhouse windows, displayed in the Salty’s on Alki parking lot Feb. 23, 2015. (Clay Eals)

WEB EXTRAS

Big thanks to Jon Pontrello and Jack Broom for their invaluable help with this installment!

To see Clay Eals‘ 360-degree video of the “Now” prospect and compare it with the “Then” photos, and to hear this column read aloud by Clay, check out our Seattle Now & Then 360 version of the column.

Below, you also will find 27 additional photos, plus videos of Pontrello performing “Roll On, Kalakala” (1) at Salty’s on Alki on Harbor Avenue Southwest and (2) his own illustrated recording. Plus, there’s a KIRO-AM radio story on Pontrello, Broom and the song by Feliks Banel.

Also below is a 1999 Seattle Times story by Broom on the Kalakala in the Seattle Times. You can see his original 1998 Kalakala song lyrics here.

To see detailed histories of the Kalakala, click here and here.

Streamline ferry Kalakala rolls on in song

Nov. 7, 1999, Seattle Times, p29-30.

 

NOW: An alternate view of Jon Pontrello at Salty’s on Alki, where he sits upon the Kalakala drive train, with the ferry’s wheelhouse behind him. (Clay Eals)
NOW: An alternate view of Jon Pontrello at Salty’s on Alki, where he sits upon the Kalakala drive train. (Clay Eals)
This image of a Kalakala cake, made by Mike’s Amazing Cakes, is from would-be Kalakala savior Peter Bevis’ memorial and would-be 70th birthday party on the evening of March 9, 2023, at Fremont Foundry. (Bevis died in 2022 at 69.) Jon Pontrello was commissioned to write “The Ballad of Peter Bevis” and sang it at this gathering. The Fremont Foundry, a hub of arts and Fremont culture, was built by Bevis. It is where the Fremont troll was made. (Dean Wenick, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
Pamela Belyea, the legacy and memorial planner for Peter Bevis, lights a candle during would-be Kalakala would-be savior Bevis’ memorial and would-be 70th birthday on March 9, 2023. (Bevis died in 2022 at 69.) Belyea also is in charge of grants from Bevis’ estate to help young sculptors. For more info, click here. (Dean Wenick, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
Holding the Kalakala cake at would-be Kalakala savior Peter Bevis’ memorial and would-be 70th birthday on March 9, 2023, are (from left) Phil Munger, Jay Gore, Don Carver, David Anderson, Paul Lukchs and Tom Putnam.  (Jon Pontrello)
One of many mages taken in 2000  of the interior and exterior of the deteriorated Kalakala after it returned to Seattle in 1998. (Richard Maryatt, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
One of many mages taken in 2000  of the interior and exterior of the deteriorated Kalakala after it returned to Seattle in 1998. (Richard Maryatt, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
One of many mages taken in 2000  of the interior and exterior of the deteriorated Kalakala after it returned to Seattle in 1998. (Richard Maryatt, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
One of many mages taken in 2000  of the interior and exterior of the deteriorated Kalakala after it returned to Seattle in 1998. (Richard Maryatt, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
One of many mages taken in 2000  of the interior and exterior of the deteriorated Kalakala after it returned to Seattle in 1998. (Richard Maryatt, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
One of many mages taken in 2000  of the interior and exterior of the deteriorated Kalakala after it returned to Seattle in 1998. (Richard Maryatt, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
One of many mages taken in 2000  of the interior and exterior of the deteriorated Kalakala after it returned to Seattle in 1998. (Richard Maryatt, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
One of many mages taken in 2000  of the interior and exterior of the deteriorated Kalakala after it returned to Seattle in 1998. (Richard Maryatt, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
One of many mages taken in 2000  of the interior and exterior of the deteriorated Kalakala after it returned to Seattle in 1998. (Richard Maryatt, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
One of many mages taken in 2000  of the interior and exterior of the deteriorated Kalakala after it returned to Seattle in 1998. (Richard Maryatt, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
One of many mages taken in 2000  of the interior and exterior of the deteriorated Kalakala after it returned to Seattle in 1998. (Richard Maryatt, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
One of many mages taken in 2000  of the interior and exterior of the deteriorated Kalakala after it returned to Seattle in 1998. (Richard Maryatt, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
One of many mages taken in 2000  of the interior and exterior of the deteriorated Kalakala after it returned to Seattle in 1998. (Richard Maryatt, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
One of many mages taken in 2000  of the interior and exterior of the deteriorated Kalakala after it returned to Seattle in 1998. (Richard Maryatt, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
One of many mages taken in 2000  of the interior and exterior of the deteriorated Kalakala after it returned to Seattle in 1998. (Richard Maryatt, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
One of many mages taken in 2000  of the interior and exterior of the deteriorated Kalakala after it returned to Seattle in 1998. (Richard Maryatt, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
One of many mages taken in 2000  of the interior and exterior of the deteriorated Kalakala after it returned to Seattle in 1998. (Richard Maryatt, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
One of many mages  of the deteriorated Kalakala after it returned to Seattle in 1998. (Richard Maryatt, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
One of several images of the deteriorated Kalakala after it returned to Seattle in 1998. (Bill Whitbeck, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
One of many images of the deteriorated Kalakala after it returned to Seattle in 1998. (Bill Whitbeck, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
One of many images of the deteriorated Kalakala after it returned to Seattle in 1998. (Bill Whitbeck, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
Would-be Kalakala savior Peter Bevis after the deteriorated ferry returned to Seattle in 1998. (Bill Whitbeck, courtesy Jon Pontrello)
A Dennis Lockwood painting of the Kalakala, hanging in Port of Seattle officers on the fourth floor of Sea-Tac Airport (courtesy Devlin Donnelly, Port of Seattle)
The battered Kalakala is shown at Pier 69 in November 1998. (courtesy Devlin Donnelly, Port of Seattle)
A matching aerial view from 2021. (courtesy Devlin Donnelly, Port of Seattle)

Seattle Now & Then Postscript: Greenlake Library, Marvin Oliver totem poles

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NOW: Standing in front of newly remodeled Green Lake Library, abuzz with activity, are (from left) Tom Fay, chief librarian; Jessica Werner, children’s librarian; and Dawn Rutherford, Northwest regional manager. (Jean Sherrard)

Published in The Seattle Times online on Dec. 18, 2024
and in Pacific NW Magazine of the printed Times on Dec. 22, 2024

2 uplifting updates: Progress on Seattle library and totem poles
By Jean Sherrard

We have encouraging news about two cherished public spaces highlighted in “Now & Then” — the Green Lake Library and Victor Steinbrueck Park.

After a 20-month renovation, the library branch was reopened Oct. 28. Thanks to a 2019 levy approved by Seattle voters, this historic building is re-imagined for future generations.

Inaugurated in 1910, the landmarked Carnegie-built structure “had become obsolete,” says project architect Matt Aalfs. The necessary seismic retrofit incorporated an exposed structural steel frame, intended to “find visual composition with the existing historic elements.” And an electric HVAC system replaced a gas-fired boiler, saving an annual 30 tons of carbon emissions. The newly air-conditioned building also will provide refuge for patrons on hot days and fresh air during incursions of forest-fire smoke.

Access also has been improved with a new elevator

NOW: A welcoming, light-filled interior provides patrons with “a resilient community resource, even during difficult times,” says Tom Fay. (Jean Sherrard)

and an exterior ramp. Interior spaces have been decluttered to create a sense of airy light.

Patrons are delighted and relieved to have a community treasure available once more. “On reopening day,” says Elisa Murray, digital communication strategist, “people were just coming in and hugging staff.”

In January, the University Library, another Carnegie building, will close until late 2026 to begin a similar project. The citywide system aims to be “a safe space where all are welcome,” says Tom Fay, Seattle Public Library’s chief librarian. “One of our priorities in coming years will be connecting people and giving them a sense of belonging. There’s only so much you can do on social media.”

NOW: Grateful as Marvin Oliver’s totem poles are prepared for restoration are (from left) David Steinbrueck; Heather Pihl, president of Friends of the Market; Lisa Steinbrueck, and Marylin Oliver-Bard. (Jean Sherrard)

Meanwhile, at the north end of Pike Place Market, a sense of belonging still awaits after a two-year renovation at Steinbrueck Park. Two poles originally commissioned by the park’s namesake architect/activist and created and installed by Quinault/Isleta Pueblo carver Marvin Oliver in 1984 were “an homage to the Northwest Coast Indians who were here long before we were,” Steinbrueck said at the time.

In 2019, the Pike Place Market Historical Commission permitted Seattle Parks and Recreation to proceed with the much-needed restoration. The commission mandated that the poles, also needing repair, be reinstalled upon the park’s reopening.

Delayed by the pandemic, the project commenced in December 2022. Oliver’s totem poles were removed in April 2023 and delivered to Discovery Park, where they languished for 18 months.

NOW3: Reconstruction nearly complete, Victor Steinbrueck Park gleams on a recent fall day. At center left, empty plinths await the return of Marvin Oliver’s totem poles. (Jean Sherrard)

Throughout, Marylin Oliver-Bard, the carver’s sister, and members of the Steinbrueck family have sought the poles’ restoration and reinstallation over Parks’ resistance. But Parks reversed itself in October, committing to the poles’ return and assuring that repairs would be transparent and expeditious.

But patience is still required. Until Oliver’s totem poles are restored and reinstalled on their plinths, the park will remain closed until at least summer 2025.

WEB EXTRAS

A few more interiors of the remodeled library and the poles in Discovery Park.

A light filled adult reading room, now with seismic retrofits
Greenlake Library’s redesigned foyer
In the corner of the children’s section, structural steel serves its seismic purpose without calling attention to itself.

 

Workers prepare to hoist Marvin Oliver’s traditional pole
A pole detail
After 18 months, the poles are finally being moved for restoration

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seattle Now & Then: Mama Lil’s Peppers, 1992

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THEN1: At the University Unitarian Church’s kitchen in Wedgwood in 1992, Howard Lev (right) and Nick Stull prepare the first commercial batch of Mama Lil’s Peppers. (courtesy Howard Lev)
NOW1: At the remodeled Unitarian Church’s kitchen facility, Howard Lev brandishes a jar of Mama Lil’s and a copy of his just-released memoir. Book launch party at OOLA Distillery on Dec. 19. Reading/signing at European Vine Selections on Dec. 20. More info: http://www.chinmusicpress.com. (Jean Sherrard)

Published in The Seattle Times online on Dec. 12, 2024
and in PacificNW Magazine of the printed Times on Dec. 15, 2024

The inside story of Seattle’s Mama Lil’s Peppers is spiced with grit and grins
By Jean Sherrard

If you live in the Northwest, chances are you’ve eaten Mama Lil’s Peppers whether you know it or not.

From pizza chains to fine restaurants, the spicy condiment has added its unique flavor to our regional fare. What’s more, Mama Lil’s

Lilian Lev AKA Mama Lil, ca. 1995 (courtesy Howard Lev)

peppers are not the creation of a corporate team, but the brainchild of one man who loved his mom and parlayed one of her recipes into a culinary sensation.

In a rollicking, tell-all book, owner Howard Lev unspools his roller-coaster ride to national acclaim and back again. In “A Pepper for your Thoughts: How NOT to Start a Gourmet Foods Business,” he combines local foodie history and personal episodes with a cautionary tale of narrow scrapes, near disasters and hardscrabble victories.

Born in Youngstown, Ohio, Lev headed west at age 16, hopping freight trains and hitching rides. The peripatetic youth found work as a laborer, carpenter and deckhand, occasionally stopping in at colleges and universities to study literature and film.

Howard Lev at his Fancy Food show booth

No matter where he found himself, his mother Lilian Lev’s homemade jars of hot peppers in oil followed. A regular side dish in Youngstown restaurants, the condiment was a savory reminder of her maternal affection.

Living in Seattle by the mid-1970s, working as a cab driver while writing spec screenplays, Lev began pickling small batches of Yakima-grown Hungarian goathorn peppers using his mother’s recipe. Every jar was eagerly snapped up by friends and family — and a nascent business was born. Soon followed a moment of truth.

From left, Jeffrey Barron, Elijah Lev and Howard Lev admire a pizza topped with goathorn peppers. Local chain Pagliacci’s Pizza has used Mama Lil’s since 2005. (Jean Sherrard)

Visiting a Hollywood film set, Lev distributed copies of his latest movie script along with jars of peppers to the A-list cast and crew. Within days, an eager studio boss called. Never mind the script, where could he get more of those pickled peppers?

Mama Lil’s vibrant labels were designed by noted Seattle artist and book illustrator Julie Paschkis. Early labels featured the buoyant slogan, The Peppatunities are Endless. “Julie’s iconic folk art style makes the jars pop on the shelves,” says Lev. (Jean Sherrard)

In his often rib-tickling if heartfelt memoir, Lev charts his decades-long attempt to establish Mama Lil’s first as a local, then a national brand, caroming among canneries, Yakima pepper fields, restaurants and national food shows. “And I could never have imagined,” he writes, “the heartbreak and joy of the wild rollercoaster ride this business took me on.”

A one-man band and self-described schlep, Lev finally scored a breakthrough contract with Panera Bread to supply 700 stores with product. The Food Network shot a segment about Mama Lil’s, and Newsweek magazine ranked it among the top five artisanal food products nationwide.

Lev’s book brims with wry business acumen as well as dozens of recipes from Mama Lil’s fans such as chefs Tom Douglas, Matt Janke, Mike Easton, Jim Watkins and Dylan Giordan.

Also, several from Mama Lil herself, seasoned with love.

WEB EXTRAS

Two book events coming up:

  • Dec. 19: Book launch/Cocktail party at OOLA Distillery in Georgetown (4755 Colorado S), 6-9PM.
    Reading begins at 7.
  • Dec. 20: Reading at European Vine Selections on Capitol Hill (522 15th E). Event begins at 7PM.

For more info or to order the book online visit http://www.chinmusicpress.com.

Now, a few more photos from Mama Lil’s past:

Lillian Lev with Howard’s dad Harry, ca. mid-1980s
Stack and stack of pepper containers
Gary Stonemetz, a manager at Johnson Foods. He’s been making Mama Lil’s for 20 years.
Lev in the pepper fields of the Yakima Valley
Lev and cannery crew saluting a camera operator from the Food Network
Inspiration behind Mama Lil’s Peppers

 

 

Seattle Now & Then: Magnolia Village’s Fire Station No. 41, 1937

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THEN: Just three years old, Magnolia’s Fire Station No. 41 stands in 1937. (Puget Sound Regional Branch, Washington State Archives)
NOW: Standing at Magnolia’s Fire Station No. 41 are (from right) Seattle’s first woman firefighter Bonnie Beers, who is profiled in “Magnolia: More Memories & Milestones,” and Magnolia Historical Society board members and project volunteers Monica Wooton, Emily Wooton, Mike Musselwhite, Greg Shaw, Sherrie Quinton, Melissa Islam, Claudia Lovgren, Carol Burton, Amy Plantenberg, Dee St. George, Brian Hogan, Kate Criss and Jon Wooton. For more info, visit MagnoliaHistoricalSociety.org. (Clay Eals)

Published in The Seattle Times online on Dec. 5, 2024
and in Pacific NW Magazine of the printed Times on Dec. 8, 2024

New Magnolia history project is fired up, ready to go — online
By Clay Eals

What defines a neighborhood, making it a place to call home? You might list grocery stores, restaurants, other businesses, a police precinct, a set of schools and worship spots, a park or two, a hub of transit stops … what else?

Ah, a fire station. It might not seem an active or flashy component, but when we need one, we’re grateful it’s there.

Strange as it may seem, Seattle’s expansive blufftop district of Magnolia, which the city annexed in 1891, didn’t have its own fire station until 1934. Until then, the largely rural peninsula was served by a 1908 station to the east, in valley-based Interbay.

Magnolia’s slow growth accelerated with the 1930 completion of the Garfield Street Bridge (dubbed the Magnolia Bridge 30 years later), so it made sense for the city to establish Fire Station No. 41 in Magnolia’s commercial center, which locals proudly call the Village.

THEN: With largely rural Magnolia as a backdrop, workers unload lumber at the 34th Avenue West site of to-be-built Fire Station No. 41 on July 26, 1934. (WERA scrapbook, Washington State Archives)

A product of the Great Depression, No. 41 took shape with the aid of federal programs providing jobs nationwide for the unemployed, channeled here through the Washington State Emergency Relief Program. Workers broke ground for the station in July 1934 along 34th Avenue West.

THEN: A photo from the Dec. 12, 1934, Seattle Post-Intelligencer reports the opening of Fire Station No. 41. (Seattle Post-Intelligencer online archive)

Its design reflected the era’s Streamline Moderne branch of Art Deco architecture. Its long horizontal lines, aerodynamic curves and nautical elements survive today and were recognized when the building became a formal city landmark in 2005. (Its attention-getting neighbor just north, the Magnolia Theatre, opened in 1948 and operated for 30 years before yielding to what is now Chase Bank.)

These details and myriad more are shared in a new project of what also could be labeled a defining neighborhood feature — the Magnolia Historical Society.

The project, “Magnolia: More Memories & Milestones,” is a sequel to the organization’s three previous coffee-table history books, except it is wholly online to save money and allow for unlimited images and the ongoing opportunity to make additions and modifications. It features eight detailed articles on subjects ranging from a giant pumpkin patch to the late Magnolian Ruth Prins (of KING-TV’s long-running “Wunda Wunda” show for preschoolers), all assembled by volunteers.

NOW: Bonnie Beers, Seattle’s first female firefighter, who grew up in Magnolia, displays a photo of herself from 1981, when she started work. She retired in 2008. (Clay Eals)

The story about Fire Station No. 41, written by series sparkplug Monica Wooton, includes a profile of Bonnie Beers, who grew up in Interbay and moved to Magnolia after becoming Seattle’s first woman firefighter in 1981. She retired in 2008 and lives in Edmonds. A former student athlete, Beers says she thought she “could do anything.”

So, apparently, does the historical society. Its October launch drew 40-plus attendees. Seeking new stories, writers and editors, the online project seems ablaze with energy.

NOW: A new garden bloomed at Fire Station No. 41 earlier this year. Cutting the ribbon on Sept. 26 to dedicate it are (from left) Mark Hauge, station firefighter; Aaron Williams of Rainbow of Magnolia Landscaping and Gretchen Taylor and Kathy Carr, co-presidents of Carleton Park Garden Club. (Monica Wooton)

WEB EXTRAS

Big thanks to Monica Wooton and Bonnie Beers for their invaluable help with this installment!

To see Clay Eals‘ 360-degree video of the “Now” prospect and compare it with the “Then” photos, and to hear this column read aloud by Clay, check out our Seattle Now & Then 360 version of the column.

Below, you also will find a video interview of Bonnie Beers and 7 historical clips from The Seattle Times and Seattle Post-Intelligencer online archive (available via Seattle Public Library), Newspapers.com and Washington Digital Newspapers, that were helpful in the preparation of this column.

Also, to see a recent Seattle Times story on Magnolia resident Greg Shaw‘s giant pumpkin patch, the subject of one of the new online articles in “Magnolia: More Memories & Milestones,” visit here.

Finally, to view the organization’s new website, order history books in print on via Kindle and view the latest (online) book, visit the Magnolia Historical Society website. For questions, to suggest new stories, contribute photos and memorability, write or volunteer, email info@magnoliahistoricalsociety.org.

Dec. 29, 1933, Seattle Times, p20.
July 1, 1934, Seattle Times, p2.
July 14, 1934, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p3.
Dec. 12, 1934, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p9.
July 3, 1945, Seattle Times, p3.
July 22, 1954, Seattle Times, p48.
March 22, 1961, Seattle Times, p58.

Seattle Now & Then: Wenatchee’s W.T. Clark Bridge, 1908

(click to enlarge photos)

THEN: Looking west circa 1908, this photo shows the first bridge to span the Columbia River south of Canada. Its 1,060-foot cantilevered steel structure extended the Highline Canal to parched East Wenatchee, while providing passage for pedestrians, horses and vehicles. (Courtesy Wenatchee Valley Museum)
NOW1: Enthusiastic supporters of the newly-monikered W.T. Clark Pipeline Bridge gather at its east end: (from left) Waylon Marshall, Mike Abhold, Jan Romey, Linda Grandorff, Karen Mackey, instigator Teri St. Jean and Alice Meyer. (Joe St. Jean)

 

Published in The Seattle Times online on Nov. 28, 2024
and in Pacific NW Magazine of the printed Times on Dec. 1, 2024

After 115 years, Wenatchee names the first cross-Columbia bridge
By Jean Sherrard

Sometimes a rose by another name does smell sweeter, suggests Teri St. Jean, a retired elementary school teacher from Wenatchee. An amateur historian and preservationist, she has devoted considerable time and effort to restoring historic homes. She’s also served on local landmark boards.

Looking west, the W.T. Clark Bridge is inviting to pedestrians and bicyclists.

Like many Wenatchee-ites, St. Jean has enjoyed strolling across the 1908 pipeline bridge —  the first to cross the Columbia River south of the Canadian border. But she’s lamented that it bore no official name.

“It was just called the Pedestrian Bridge,” she says, “or the Black Bridge, or the Old Bridge.”

St. Jean believed that the graceful, cantilevered structure, beloved by locals, might be even more appreciated if it bore a name reflecting its storied past.

With a group of like-minded history buffs, she turned

This view of the pedestrian bridge looks southwest on a balmy early October afternoon.

for advice to Waylon Marshall, manager of the Wenatchee Reclamation District and responsible for maintenance and upkeep of the span.

Perhaps the city’s iconic bridge could be named after its creator? Marshall enthusiastically agreed.

Thus, 115 years after it first opened to traffic, the W.T. Clark Pipeline Bridge was finally christened on Oct. 4, 2023.

Marking the bridge’s name change, this plaque was installed by the Wenatchee Reclamation District on Oct. 4, 2023. W.T. Clark is pictured at right. (Designed by Pat Mullady of Ridgeline Graphics, fabricated by Nate Kellogg of Graybeal Signs)

Originally from Ohio, William T. Clark arrived in Eastern Washington in 1893 and instantly understood the landscape and its limitations. The fertile soil, suitable for all manner of crops, was constrained only by lack of water.

After cutting his teeth on irrigation canals in the Yakima Valley, “Artesian” Clark (his popular nickname) spied opportunities further north.

The Highline Canal, his most extensive project, tapped the Wenatchee River at Dryden, running 16 miles through rough terrain southeast to Wenatchee. The gravity-powered canal opened in 1903, providing water to 7,000 acres and triggering a population and property boom. Parcels selling for less than $25 per acre climbed to $400 and more.

Just east, across the Columbia River, parched

Supporters gather around the plaque installed in 2023

scrubland stood tantalizingly close but mostly unirrigated. Clark’s solution: a bridge that could carry not only a pipeline extending the canal but also vehicle traffic.

He enlisted investors including James J. Hill, director of the Great Northern Railroad, and Seattle business leader Thomas Burke, both eager to further expand — and profit from — arable land.

Completed in 1908, the combined highway and pipeline bridge reclaimed 4,000 acres of East Wenatchee, luring another 6,000 settlers within months.

“The pipeline opened up development in Douglas County,” Marshall says, “and still serves water six dry months of the year, 24 hours a day, at 24,000 gallons per minute.”

Now part of Wenatchee’s 11-mile Apple Capital Loop trail, the W.T Clark Pipeline Bridge adds a name to a sweet bloom of regional history.

WEB EXTRAS

For our narrated 360 degree video of this column, click right here.

 

Seattle Now & Then: Main Street, Olympia, 1895

(Click and click again to enlarge photos)

THEN: This 1895 scene from Tim Greyhavens’ book is of Ida B. Smith’s studio in Olympia at 520 Main St. (today’s Capitol Way). It reveals tools of the early photo trade, including a large view camera and tripod, real and painted curtains, angled skylight, circular sunscreen and props. In the center could be Smith, as this woman resembles other known portraits of her. The Washington Standard newspaper called her a “photographic artist” and cited her “excellent views of the interior of Olympia Theatre.” No such images have been found today. (Washington State Historical Society)
NOW: Across Capitol Way from where Ida B. Smith’s studio operated from 1895 to about 1909, Tim Greyhavens displays his new book “Artistic and Life-Like: Photography in Washington, 1850-1900” (Grey Day Press, 2024). Greyhavens presents a talk on his book Thursday evening, Nov. 21, for the Pacific Northwest Historians Guild. For more info, visit TimGreyhavens.com. (Clay Eals)

Published in The Seattle Times online on Nov. 21, 2024
and in Pacific NW Magazine of the printed Times on Nov. 24, 2024

Book reveals novelty of our state’s 19th century photography
By Clay Eals

How many times have you aimed your smartphone to capture a face, a meal, a repair project, a pleasing scene? Every year, humans worldwide are said to take more than a trillion photos. Many of them graze our consciousness for mere seconds. They are seemingly lifeblood but also, strangely, a shrug.

More’s the pity. If we back up a century and a half, we reach a time when the concept of a photo, let alone a physical print, was novel, even revolutionary, especially in the rugged West.

NOW: At the Oct. 30 Seattle Antiquarian Book Fair, Phil Bevis, owner of Seattle’s Arundel Books, waves from his booth, at which Tim Greyhavens’ new book was prominently displayed at lower left. (Clay Eals)

That photographic era in our state, the latter 50 years of the 19th century, captivates Tim Greyhavens, who recently published “Artistic and Life-Like: Photography in Washington, 1850-1900.” With more than 200 carefully reproduced photos, his 262-page tome documents how and why the earliest image-makers toted heavy cameras, plates and chemicals far and wide to mine for true-to-life pictures.

THEN: Tim Greyhavens as a young teenager with dog Lady in Portsmouth, Ohio. (Courtesy Tim Greyhavens)

Greyhavens, 76, from Seattle’s West Woodland neighborhood, grew up in Portsmouth, Ohio. As a grade-schooler, he often visited a local photo studio, whose owner introduced him to his darkroom. “I was hooked as soon as I saw my first print develop in a tray of chemicals,” he says. Reaching college, he wanted to “be the next Ansel Adams.”

Life steered Greyhavens to a different career, directing the Wilburforce Foundation, a Ballard-based nonprofit that dispenses grants for conservation causes. But retirement prompted him to revisit and approximate childhood dreams.

THEN: An ad for Ida B. Smith’s studio, Dec. 2, 1898, Washington Standard. (Washington Digital Newspapers)

His encyclopedic chronicle of vintage images also profiles many of the state’s 500 earliest photographers. They include Ida Bell Mitchell Smith, who in 1895 took over the Olympia studio of A.D. Rogers and likely learned the trade from him. She offered holiday portraits of “all styles and grades” with “pastel and crayon enlargements.”

Greyhavens covers signature scenes, such as the 1860 Yesler house (considered Seattle’s first photo) and the 1889 Great Seattle Fire, leavening them with substantive and obscure excursions to logging and railroad sites and the portraiture of Native Americans, including Chief Seattle and his daughter, Kikisoblu.

THEN: From Greyhavens’ book, “Chen Chong and His Wife in Seattle,” 1866, photographer known only as “Simonds.” (Washington State Historical Society)

Throughout, Greyhavens supplies researched context while cautioning readers not to make faulty assumptions, such as trusting the words scrawled on the backsides of prints. An overarching theme is the profound importance that Washingtonians placed on such a personalized art form.

The “real meanings” of early photos emerge only “by understanding the culture and society in which they were created,” he writes.

“People soon recognized that having life-like and easily accessible depictions of loved ones was more important to their happiness than almost anything words might contribute.”

In today’s flood of taken-for-granted photos, dare we summon such deep appreciation?

THEN: From Greyhavens’ book, “James Offutt of Olympia with a bundle of hops,” 1860-1870, photographer unknown. (Courtesy Tim Greyhavens)
THEN: This 1891 print from Greyhavens’ book, photographer unknown, shows a man, three boys and two dogs posing on a temporary rail line against a backdrop of burned stumps, smoke and buildings. Writing on the print’s back identifies the scene as “Kelly (sic) town,” a short-lived 1880s development started by Norman R. Kelley near what is now Sedro-Woolley. (Sedro-Woolley Museum)

WEB EXTRAS

Big thanks to Dan Kerlee and especially Tim Greyhavens for their invaluable help with this installment!

To see Clay Eals‘ 360-degree video of the “Now” prospect and compare it with the “Then” photos, and to hear this column read aloud by Clay, check out our Seattle Now & Then 360 version of the column.

Below, you also will find 8 additional photos, 1 document and 1 historical clip from The Seattle Times and Seattle Post-Intelligencer online archive (available via Seattle Public Library), Newspapers.com and Washington Digital Newspapers, that were helpful in the preparation of this column.

A biographical outline of photographer Ida Bell Mitchell Smith. (Courtesy Tim Greyhavens)
From the first sentence of this Jan. 18, 1867, ad in the Walla Walla Statesman for Shupe’s Photographic Gallery, Tim Greyhavens took the title for his book. (Courtesy Tim Greyhavens)
From Greyhavens’ book, “Log huts, winter quarters,” two-part panorama, 1860-61, photographer Royal Engineers, British North American Boundary Commission. (Bancroft Library)
From Greyhavens’ book, “Two Yakama girls,” 1892-1903, photographer Eli Emor James. (Ellensburg Public Library)
From Greyhavens’ book, “Sleighing party at 7th and Howard streets, 1888-89, photographer Maxwell brothers. (Spokane Public Library)
From Greyhavens’ book, “No 29 — In line waiting to board train,” July 1891, photographer Urban P. Hadley. (Washington State Historical Society)
From Greyhavens’ book, “Insurance adjusters at work,” 1889, photographer unknown. (Spokane Public Library)
From Greyhavens’ book, “Ignatius Calvin,” circa 1870, photographer Wilson Clark. (Jefferson County Historical Society)
From Greyhavens’ book, “Peola School Girls’ Drill Team,” 1898, photographer unknown. (Denny Ashby Library)
From Greyhavens’ book, “House destroyed by flood, Kalama,” circa 1885-1895, photographer unknown. (Kalama History House)

 

Seattle Now & Then: New totem pole at Ivar’s Salmon House, 1966

THEN1: In April 1966, Ivar Haglund (left) and realtor J.R. Nicholas admire the Lake Union view from Haglund’s newly purchased property. Behind them, the University Bridge spans Portage Bay. Girders of the four-year old Interstate 5 Ship Canal Bridge loom overhead. (courtesy Ivar’s Restaurants)
NOW1:  A salmon “swims” through the Ivar’s Salmon House parking lot. Git Hoan dancers include (from left) Nick James, Jeff Jainga, Darius Sanidad, Jeremiah Nathan and Dylan Sanidad. (Jean Sherrard)

 

 

Published in The Seattle Times online on Nov. 14, 2024
and in Pacific NW Magazine of the printed Times on Nov. 17, 2024

‘People of the Salmon’ totem pole celebrated at Lake Union Ivar’s
By Jean Sherrard

Seattle restaurateur Ivar Haglund heard that property he owned along the north edge of Lake Union had once been an Indigenous gathering place, an invigorating vision was born.

The seafood salesman scuttled plans for a Hong Kong-themed restaurant and — with a doff of his familiar captain’s cap — opted to honor those who had feasted on salmon and shellfish for millennia.

His vision took shape at a University of Washington institution. “I wanted to do something legitimate and different,” he recalled for friend and columnist Emmett Watson. “One day at the Burke Museum, there it was: a replica of an authentic Indian longhouse, big places where Indians met, lived and ate.”

By the late 1960s, the inspired Haglund launched plans to build his own longhouse, fill it with Northwest art and artifacts and serve customers salmon cooked over a huge fire pit. Built with split cedar logs and lodge poles, Ivar’s Salmon House became the third restaurant in what is today a legendary Puget Sound chain.

Tsimshian carver David Boxley

Continuing Haglund’s original vision, Ivar’s recently recruited Alaskan-born David Boxley to replace a deteriorating Northwest Coast-style totem pole in the restaurant’s entry courtyard.

Creativity caught Boxley early on. Raised in the Alaskan community of Metlakatla, on Annette Island near Ketchikan, he knew he wanted to be an artist in third grade. After minoring in art at college, he dedicated himself to re-discovering once forbidden Tsimshian traditions in art, dance and song.

Today, his 86 totem poles stand around the world, with one on

From left, Tsimshian carvers Dylan Sanidad and David Boxley stand at the base of Boxley’s 85th totem pole alongside John, Jennifer and Janet Creighton, who commissioned the pole in memory of their father and husband Jack Creighton. (Jean Sherrard)

permanent display at the Smithsonian National Museum of the American Indian in Washington D.C.

“I started carving to bring back a culture that was erased,” he says. “I’m proud to have been a part of its revitalization.”

Boxley’s celebrated carving gifts are amplified by his extended family, including children and grandchildren, who compose the Git Hoan (“People of the Salmon”) Dancers, who use movement and song to revive traditional stories.

In September, more than 100 spectators assembled at the Salmon House to mark installation of Boxley’s latest pole. By turns graceful, joyful and, yes, electrifying, the troupe showcased Boxley’s articulated masks, bringing artistic masterpieces to kinetic life.

Raven-masked dancers wove through the audience, playfully clacking wooden beaks. A heart-stoppingly graceful orca arrived to the crash of drums, its hinged mask swung open to reveal a second hidden face beneath. And a Tsimshian salmon, larger than life, circled the parking lot, flashing ornate fins and tail, while the youngest members of Git Hoan flowed in its wake.

Boxley’s grandson Sage Sanidad, carrying a spear, is trailed by Jeremiah Nathan. Two-year-old Nick James Jr. also joins in this entrance dance. (Jean Sherrard)

Throughout, Boxley’s red-cedar totem pole stood sentinel above this gathering place.

The purpose was dual and simultaneous: to bless and be blessed.

WEB EXTRAS

For our narrated 360 video of this column, click here.

A selection of photos from the event are included below (click twice to enlarge):

Seattle Now & Then: the sign of Andy’s Diner, 1963

(Click and click again to enlarge photos)

THEN: This nighttime view of Andy’s Diner, from 1963, shows how the restaurant’s rail cars were highly visible to traffic along Fourth Avenue South. For detailed notes on the history of the restaurant by historian and author Chuck Flood, see below. (Seattle Municipal Archives)
NOW: At the former Andy’s Diner (now the Orient Express), designer-publisher Tom Eykemans and Vanishing Seattle founder Cynthia Brothers display their book, “Signs of Vanishing Seattle,” while collector John Bennett holds aloft an original Andy’s Diner sign featured therein. The Museum of History & Industry will host an event for the book Nov. 21. More info: VanishingSeattle.org. (Jean Sherrard)

Published in The Seattle Times online on Oct. 31, 2024
and in Pacific NW Magazine of the printed Times on Nov. 3, 2024

‘Vanishing Seattle’ book trains our eyes on local signs of the past
By Clay Eals

Funny, the word “vanish.” In a magic trick, when something vanishes, it suddenly disappears. But is what we cannot see really gone? What if it lingers in our minds and hearts? Sometimes, collective memory can be as strong — or stronger — than real, physical life.

Cynthia Brothers embodied such thoughts eight years ago in launching a social-media movement to document and celebrate well-known local places that seemingly drop daily from our view. She named it Vanishing Seattle.

NOW: The cover of “Signs of Vanishing Seattle: Places Loved and Lost,” Tome Press. (Courtesy Cynthia Brothers)

Brothers, 43, has grown her mostly volunteer and partly grant-funded following to 117,000. Last year, she mounted a flashy exhibit in Pioneer Square and this year published a book, “Signs of Vanishing Seattle,” which returns to our consciousness the eye-popping branding remnants of more than 75 lost treasures.

Such as Andy’s Diner! If you moved to Seattle since 2008, you may not recognize this unpretentious eatery on Fourth Avenue South, at least by that name. (For the past 16 years, it’s been a Chinese restaurant and karaoke bar, the Orient Express.)

Long before stadiums arose in industrial Sodo, Andy’s Diner embraced the area’s rail-track milieu and created a colorful identity, easily seen from its busy arterial, by piecing together a building made of decommissioned railroad cars.

THEN: On April 6, 1954, namesake Andy Nagy poses on the stairs of his Andy’s Diner at 2711 Fourth Ave. S. (Seattle Municipal Archives)

In 1949, Andy Nagy started with one car at 2711 Fourth Ave. S.. Joined by nephew Andy Yurkanin in 1955, he moved it two blocks south in 1956 and eventually expanded to seven cars. The pair built it into a steakhouse and banquet facility — the most visible element of what became a local food-service empire — revered by a broad swath of return customers, including hungry newswriters.

THEN: A Feb. 13, 1955, ad in the Sunday magazine of The Seattle Times claims that Andy’s Diner served more than 150,000 people in three months. (Seattle Times online archives)

It wasn’t that railcar eateries were unusual. Such diners have deep roots in the East. It was more the flair of a fun image. “We are after a tradition, an atmosphere,” Nagy told Seattle Post-Intelligencer columnist Emmett Watson in 1959. A Seattle Times headline in 1973 added a playful pun: “Choo Choo Chew Chew.”

Hence Brothers’ affection for the fanciful Andy’s Diner sign, which collector John Bennett loaned for last year’s exhibit and is included in the “Signs” book. Other Seattle touchstones range from music venues and LGBTQ+ bars to record stores and even shoe and antique shops.

Some signs still hang on. A few, as with Andy’s Diner, are modified. Most have … vanished. The book likens them all to rabbits out of the proverbial hat.

To Brothers, they’re “love letters to the sign artisans and social landmarks that brought soul to our city, and a testament to their ongoing impact and legacies, still being felt today.”

WEB EXTRAS

Big thanks to Cynthia Brothers, John Bennett and Chuck Flood for their invaluable help with this installment!

To see Jean Sherrard‘s 360-degree video of the “Now” prospect and compare it with the “Then” photos, and to hear this column read aloud by Clay, check out our Seattle Now & Then 360 version of the column.

Below, you also will find 2 additional photos, 4 documents on Andy’s Diner by restaurant historian and author Chuck Flood and 61 historical clips from The Seattle Times and Seattle Post-Intelligencer online archive (available via Seattle Public Library), Newspapers.com and Washington Digital Newspapers, that were helpful in the preparation of this column.

THEN: One of Vanishing Seattle’s earliest activities was presenting a slide show inside the Battery Street Tunnel on Feb. 2, 2019, the last day the Alaskan Way Viaduct was open — to pedestrians only. (Jean Sherrard)
The cover of Chuck Flood’s book “Lost Restaurants of Seattle.” Below are four research documents by Flood on Andy’s Diner. You can email Chuck Flood here.
Click the above image to download restaurant historian and author Chuck Flood’s summary of the history of Andy’s Diner.
Click the above image to download restaurant historian and author Chuck Flood’s notes on the history of Andy’s Diner.
Click the above image to download restaurant historian and author Chuck Flood’s notes on restaurateur Andy Yurkanin.
Click the above image to download restaurant historian and author Chuck Flood’s notes on offshoots of Andy’s Diner.
June 17, 1949, Seattle Times, p33.
Feb. 18, 1952, Seattle Times, p13.
June 26, 1955, Seattle Times, p43.
Aug. 5, 1959, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p41.
Aug. 5, 1959, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p40.
Oct. 16, 1959, Seattle Times, p23.
Oct. 21, 1959, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p53.
Nov. 16, 1962, Seattle Times, p4.
March 3, 1963, Seattle Times, p121.
April 5, 1963, Seattle Times, p14.
Aug. 4, 1964, Seattle Times, p24.
Aug. 9, 1964, Seattle Times, p36.
Sept. 12, 1965, Seattle Times, p22.
Dec. 9, 1965, Seattle Times, p1.
Dec. 9, 1965, Seattle Times, p12.
Dec. 10, 1965, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p38.
Dec. 10, 1965, Seattle Times, p16.
April 7, 1966, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p40.
May 9, 1966, Seattle Times, p49.
Feb. 15, 1967, Seattle Times, p3.
Oct. 18, 1968, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p76.
Oct. 25, 1968, Seattle Times, p39.
May 9, 1969, Seattle Times, p4.
Aug. 17, 1969, Seattle Times, p8-9.
Nov. 6, 1970, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p52.
Nov. 6, 1970, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p54.
Feb. 18, 1973, Seattle Times, p79.
Sept. 7, 1973, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p53.
Nov. 25, 1973, Seattle Times, p146.
Nov. 25, 1973, Seattle Times, p148.
April 16, 1974, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p23.
June 16, 1974, Seattle Times, p169.
June 16, 1974, Seattle Times, p170.
June 16, 1974, Seattle Times, p171.
Sept. 24, 1974, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p7.
Oct. 10, 1974, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p17, from Emmett Watson column.
Nov. 20, 1975, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p18, from Emmett Watson column.
Dec. 12, 1975, Seattle Times, p65.
Jan. 25, 1976, Seattle Times, p146.
Jan. 25, 1976, Seattle Times, p148.
Dec. 16, 1977, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p24.
Feb. 7, 1978, Seattle Times, p10, from Walter Evans column.
June 7, 1978, Seattle Times, p112.
Sept. 1, 1978, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p24.
June 22, 1979, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p55.
Oct. 8, 1980, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p26.
Oct. 8, 1980, Seattle Times, p77.
Oct. 9, 1980, Seattle Times, p41, from Walter Evans column.
March 18, 1983, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p44.
Aug. 26, 1983, Seattle Times, p53.
June 21, 1989, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p35.
Oct. 13, 1989, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p66.
July 20, 1990, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p72.
Nov. 3, 1991, Seattle Times, p191-193.
Aug. 27, 1996, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p15.
Aug. 28, 1996, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p3.
April 25, 1999, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p201.
June 28, 2000, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p27-34.
Aug. 9, 2002, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p68.
Dec. 17, 2000, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p131.
Aug. 9, 2002, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, p68.
Nov. 2, 2008, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, pB2.
Nov. 2, 2008, Seattle Times, p80.

Now & then here and now…