(click to enlarge photos)

Published in The Seattle Times on-line on June 20, 2024
and in Pacific NW Magazine of the printed Times on June 23, 2024

We sign in with a sweet discovery, revealed by a local sleuth

By Jean Sherrard

To paraphrase a classic advertising slogan, when Ron Edge speaks, local historians listen.

A collector of historical photographs and ephemera, Edge is referenced in reverential tones usually reserved for celebrities or minor deities. Longtime “Now & Then” readers may have encountered his contributions without knowing it.

Which is why, when the Lake Forest Park resident told me that he’d found visual proof of something I’d been seeking, the hairs on my neck stood up.

He forwarded his scan of a photo bought several years ago. Small and hand cropped, it was credited to itinerant photographer Hiram Hoyt. The photo, from 1875, captured a familiar scene: the heart of thriving Seattle looking north up Commercial Street — today’s First Avenue south of Yesler.

The proverbial three little pigs might have sniffed out a cautionary note: buildings made of sticks don’t last long. But these wooden shop fronts lining the unpaved street represented a lively downtown core.

They included iron and tin mongers, realty offices, clothing shops, jewelers, and drug and grocery stores. Henry Yesler’s Pavilion, two blocks north at the corner of Front Street and Cherry, a popular venue for concerts, theatrical events and dances, can be seen just left of center.

Directly above stands the squarish white Central School, partially blocking the graceful outline of the Territorial University (today’s University of Washington) hovering at the corner of Fourth and University.

Further study reveals two coal gas streetlights, installed a year earlier by newly formed Seattle Gas Light Company. Canvas sunshades hung from the west-facing shops. Long shadows suggest a balmy summer’s afternoon.

“Proof of your favorite confectioner,” Edge announced with typical

cryptic brevity. I zoomed in, and a rectangular, one-word sign atop a roof near the center of the image swam into hazy focus: “CANDY.”

Two years ago, I wrote about the Puget Sound Candy Manufactory, Seattle’s first candy shop. Frustratingly, no photo of the business could be found. Edge’s intriguing tidbit, however, provides definite proof.

Proprietor Andrew Piper (1828-1904), who emigrated to America from Bavaria at age 19, arrived in Seattle in 1873 to a robust welcome. His shop’s unique confections and his personal charisma ensured popular success, catering to Seattleites’ sugary appetite.

Each winter, with Lake Union frozen several feet deep, the industrious confectioner carved out and stored huge ice blocks of ice, whipping up ice cream for delighted customers on hot summer days.

Today, thanks to Edge’s keen eye and detailed knowledge of regional history, “Now & Then” once again can fill in a missing puzzle piece and offer us all a satisfying sweet.

WEB EXTRAS

First off, let’s revisit our Andrew Piper column from a couple years ago, featuring a “then” photo of the candy maker with his son Walter on Front Street (First Ave).

And here’s the column Ron worked on with Paul Dorpat and me, finding the precise location of the cabin of Princess Angeline (Kikisoblu) below today’s Pike Place Market.

Some have remarked on the repeated cold winters which seemed to predominate in the Northwest during the latter half of the 19th century. Lake Union, in particular, froze to a depth of several feet, allowing Piper’s venture into ice cream.

Evidently, the Little Ice Age, which ended globally around 1850, was prolonged in the PNW by several decades, say local geologists.