Seattle Now & Then: The Troy Laundry, 1912

(click to enlarge photos)

THEN: This northeast-facing 1912 image features 11 horse-drawn and three motor vehicles arranged with their drivers along two sides of Troy Laundry at the northeast corner of Nob Hill and Republican Streets. Drivers, who collected cash receipts, were occasional victims of hold-ups, as reported in the daily papers. Their pay averaged twice that of the “mangle girls.” (Courtesy Ron Edge)
NOW: The 19-year-old Seattle Laundry company parks two of its trucks outside the gates of Memorial Stadium. From left, drivers Bonny Teran, Catalina Lopez, with founders Chris and his father Ed Tudor. Their pickup and delivery laundry customers, says Chris, are largely busy, two-income families with children. (Jean Sherrard)

(Published in The Seattle Times online on Feb. 24, 2022
and in PacificNW Magazine of the print Times on Feb. 27, 2022)

We can’t mangle women’s role in popular, early-day laundries
By Jean Sherrard

I’d never encountered mangles and yeggs until researching this week’s column, but both made an appearance at Troy Laundry, subject of our 1912 “Then” photo.

The mangle was a commercial version of my grandmother’s hand-cranked wringer, mounted in her Renton basement atop an antique washing machine, just below shelves of mason jars filled with applesauce and preserves. The wooden rollers, cracked and worn from decades of use, appeared in at least one child’s nightmares as instruments of torture.

At commercial laundries across the country, skilled mangle operators, mostly young women, were in demand. In 1912, they worked 48 hours a week for $9 pay (about $250 today).

In the first three decades of the 20th century, commercial laundries boomed. One of many, the Troy Laundry, on the northeast corner of Nob Hill and Republican — now within the footprint of Seattle Center’s Memorial Stadium bleachers — eased the drudgery of washing, drying and ironing clothes for Seattle families.

In her book, “Never Done: A History of American Housework,” historian Susan Strasser writes that doing laundry was women’s “most hated task” which they would “jettison … whenever they had any discretionary money at all.”

In 1909, laundries nationwide grossed more than $100 million, an average of $5.30 per American household. Notes Strasser, “Even the poorest people in urban slums sent out some of their wash.”

In coming decades, competition arrived with home washing machines and dryers. By the 1940s, these once-luxury appliances were standard in many households.

Troy Laundry moved from its lower Queen Anne digs (land originally platted by David and Louisa Denny) to Fairview Avenue in 1927, making room for a new Civic Field, Auditorium and Arena, planting seeds that eventually blossomed into today’s Seattle Center.

And, nope, I haven’t forgotten about the yeggs. Their name was most likely derived from John Yegg, alias of a late 19th-early 20th century bank robber. Stickup artists, dubbed Yegg-men, were tempted by easy targets, namely businesses with cash on hand.

On Oct. 9, 1926, as reported in The Seattle Times, one nefarious crew attempted to crack the Troy Laundry safe with nitroglycerin. Interrupted by a night watchman, the “thoughtless yeggs” aborted the effort, leaving an unstable “soup” behind. After consulting experts from the Diebold Safe and Lock Co., DuPont Chemicals, and the University of Washington chemistry department, police successfully defused the threat.

“Science triumphed,” the Times exulted. “Soon … (they) had the safe open, and the laundry girls, breathing sighs of relief, went to work with increased vigor.”


For our usual 360 degree exploration of the locale plus a reading of the column itself, mosey over in this direction.

3 thoughts on “Seattle Now & Then: The Troy Laundry, 1912”

  1. The following is the definition of the Mangle :

    [ mang-guhl ]SHOW IPA

    a machine for smoothing or pressing clothes, household linen, etc., by means of heated rollers.

    I grew up with one of these machines on our porch. My mother was the only one allowed to use it. It was a monster ironing machine and could guarantee a few burn when using it.
    The machine with wooden rollers was attached somewhere near the washing machine to wring the water out of the clothes before the were hung on the line to dry. We had one of these too. Usually the water drained off the rollers into a wash tub.

    I never saw a large scale laundry, but we had the small scale one on our back porch in Silverdale, Washington in the early 50’s. Fortunately, spinning washing machine and an ironing board replaced it.

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