Long-time Alameda Tuesday Club member Terry O’Hanlon checked in with us recently to share these memories. Part of her growing up years – and most of her adult life – has been spent right here in the Alameda neighborhood. During the late 1920s and early 1930s, she and her family lived in the bungalow at 4016 NE 28^th.  Here’s a picture:

4016 NE 28th, taken about 1932. Photo Courtesy of Terry O’Hanlon.

The house, built in 1921 by the Wickman Building Company, looks much the same today. As a very young person, Terry remembers playing with the neighbor kids, romping out front with her little white dog, and adventuring around the open spaces and empty lots nearby.

She also has an enduring memory of the night her living room provided a convenient stake-out location for the Portland Police.

A spate of robberies had been plaguing the Broadway Streetcar. As Alameda History Blog readers will know, 29^th and Mason was the end of the streetcar line, where the conductor stepped outside to switch the overhead electrical connection, flipped the seats so they’d be facing forward, and then took a break before the inbound trip back downtown to Broadway and Jefferson. 29^th and Mason was a quiet, somewhat out of the limelight spot – perfect for a motorman’s momentary pause. But also perfect for a stick up. The car, and its accumulated collected fares, was a sitting duck out there in the dark at the end of the line.

That’s where Terry’s living room came in handy: at the time, it provided a perfect view to the end of the line—about one block east—so the good guys could keep an eye out for the bad guys. Look back at the photo: See that empty lot to the left (north)? 20 years later, Kenny Birkemeier would build a house on that spot, filling up that open view to the end of the line.

Here’s something to think about: Watching out your window as all around you a neighborhood is being built up. Elder Alamedans remember this phenomenon well, and some have even lamented the loss of their favorite empty lot, hiding spot, or fort location. It was one of the defining experiences of growing up in Alameda up until the late 1940s. A topic for some future post. But back to the living room and the streetcar stick up…

Terry remembers coming downstairs to a darkened first floor, into a room filled with cops all craning their necks to watch the streetcar when it finally came to a stop. The shock of it all seared that image into Terry’s memory banks for these many years. But don’t ask if her if Portland’s Finest got their man…she’s never been sure about that. The image of her darkened house filled with police soaked up all available memory-making bandwidth for the very young person she was at the time.

We’ve seen news stories from 1920s editions of The Oregonian about a burglar operating in the neighborhood, but have never come across any official telling of the streetcar stick-up to help us know how it all turned out. Chances are the Portland Traction Company, which operated the Broadway car during those years, would have wanted to keep a lid on the whole thing anyway so as to not put every carline in jeopardy.

There are other memories about the end of our car line: about the old man and his German shepherd who used to nap on the lawn of the house at the southwest corner of 29^th and Mason, watching streetcars come and go. And the enterprising teenager who “hijacked” a driver-less streetcar parked momentarily at 24^th and Fremont. And, what if felt like for some on the last ride of the last day.

So many memories to explore, so little time…

Not Rugby or Bugby. But Hugby. And it’s set in concrete for all to see near the base of Alameda’s Dead Man’s Hill, on what we know today (and have known since platting in 1909) as Stuart Drive.

We came across this on a recent walk up the hill. It’s well cloaked in moss, but clearly visible, there on the south side of the street, at the base of the hill, just upslope from the stop sign. Take a look:

Right next to Hugby in the curb is our old friend Elwood Wiles, 1910, the ubiquitous curb stamp across much of Portland’s east side, made by the prolific concrete contractor and former Alameda resident.

We’re sensitive to names because they are signposts to history, but Hugby is a new one on us, not encountered on many trips through Polk City Directories, the Federal Censuses, old news articles, legal proceedings and other documents stemming from the Alameda Land Company. Elsewhere on this site, you’ll find a handy reference about other neighborhood street names. But no Hugbys encountered in pursuit of those stories either. Recently we sorted back through the city directories from 1900-1920 looking for any Hugby, but no luck. And Google is little help: it thinks you meant Rugby.

And just for the record, Portland did have a Rugby Street–a short section of street located in Willamette Heights–which was renamed NW 34th Avenue during the Great Renumbering of the 1930s. Couldn’t be confused for our mysterious Hugby Drive though.

To be clear: the original plat for Alameda refers to this as Stuart Drive, even though there is no curb stamp that names it so (the original one may have been at the top of the hill on the north side of the street, perhaps obliterated from curb repairs). So Hugby joins Glenn and Laura as mysteries awaiting solution. Any ideas?

Always on the lookout for a little mystery like this. Seen any lately?

Our sister Bonnie Hull, the talented Salem artist and art blogger (be sure to visit her blog, which often features detailed profiles of local artists, a feature she calls “Living the Creative Life“) was in attendance and provides a very nice glimpse into our AHC program. Check out her reporting here. Thanks Bon.

We’ll likely be offering the program again at AHC—perhaps in the summer or fall—and  who knows maybe other places too…open to suggestions or invites.

The Davis Dairy Store, located at 5513 NE 30^th, was operated by three generations of women from the Davis family, who also built and lived in the home at 2427 NE Dunckley here in the Alameda Park addition. A recent visitor to the blog—Teresa Roth—sent us some shards of memory from her mother Lucille, and some photographs to ponder. Here is Lucille’s mother Irene Davis, the matriarch of the store, standing near the open door in 1938, and the same spot today:

Left, Irene Davis at the Davis Dairy Store, 5513 NE 30th Ave., 1938. Right, the same doorway today. Historic photo courtesy of the Davis Family and Teresa Roth.

Irene’s daughter Lucille (far left) and cousin Isabel Buckendorf sitting out front in 1938. Note the words “bicycle shop” on the window behind them to the left, and the reflection of the power pole, which hasn’t moved much in 70 years. Historic photo courtesy of the Davis Family and Teresa Roth.

Irene and her husband Ernest built the Dunckley home and likely the business as well, though he was a machinist and she a stenographic secretary. The couple divorced in the mid 1920s. For as long as the couple’s daughter Lucille can remember, the store was just part of the family. Lucille, now in her mid 80s, and her daughter Teresa stroll through the neighborhood from time to time when they are in town together, remembering friends, cousins and happy moments.

After the divorce in the mid 1920s, Irene ran the store, with Lucille’s help during the summer, and likely with the help of her sister Mae, a piano teacher. Irene and Mae’s mother Martha LeFabre lived with them as well in the Dunckley Street house: three generations running the house and the business.

No one around today remembers exactly when the store opened or closed, but we do know it would have been popular with kids. Here’s an advertisement from 1938.

Flyer from Davis Dairy Store, 1938. Courtesy of the Davis Family and Teresa Roth.

The corner of NE 30^th and Killingsworth has experienced a recent renaissance that echoes the vitality of the intersection in the 1920s and 1930s. Today, the area is officially known as the Concordia Neighborhood, though in those days it was known to both residents and customers as Irvington Park. Just for context, here’s a shot of the overall commercial building today, which features some very tasty restaurants, including DOC, which we recommend.

Any memories to share about the Davis Dairy Store or this bright and busy neighborhood corner?

According to the 1938 Polk City Directory, joining the Davis Dairy Store at 30th and Killingsworth were the following businesses:

5425 NE 30th             Serafino Boitano Shoe Repair

5425 NE 30th             Parrot Cleaners

5430 NE 30^th              Jason Frost Grocer | Theo Larson Meats

5433 NE 30th             Anderson’s Food Market

5438 NE 30^th              30^th Avenue Pharmacy and Post Office

5501 NE 30th             The Ark Beer Parlor

5507 NE 30th             Irvington Park Variety Store (now Blackbird Tatoo)

5509 NE 30th             30^th Avenue Bicycle and Hardware

5515-19 NE 30th        Twin Pines Barber and Beauty Shop

Click here for more information about registration.

Let us whet your appetite with this clip, from the April 1923 edition of The American Missionary, published by the Congregational Home Missionary Society:

To help put this in context, if you haven’t already read it, we’d recommend reading the page on the church (today’s Subud Center) which you can find by clicking here. Be sure to have a good look at the photos too.

In order to appreciate what The Rev. Allingham is about to tell us, you have to know that some in the Alameda Park neighborhood were up in arms about the construction of the church at NE 30th and Mason. Several protests were organized, a petition got up, and a fair amount of consternation resulted, including relocation of a construction site. The story hits close to home for us because the leading petitioners were the folks who lived in our house for 50 years, and the original intended construction site are the two lots immediately north of us.

Let’s catch up with The Rev. Allingham: 

The turning of the other cheek. He continues:

The reference to the children from the homes that objected to the church: that’s probably Bruce and Jean Morrison who lived here and were probably some of those kids who snuck out the back door of home to check out Sunday mornings at the Bungalow Church. Hmm. And the church seems to have served the community up into the 1950s and early 1960s. We’ll continue looking for additional stories and articles that chronicle the building’s life and times. In the meantime, with The Rev. Allingham’s words in our minds, stroll past the building at Regents and Mason and listen for the echoes of all those children.

While researching recently through building permits and related documents filed on microfiche, we came across the original drawings for the building, all filed for construction at 30^th Avenue and Mason. Take a look:

Detail from elevation drawings filed with construction documents for the city’s permit process. Note that the building was designed by architect Edward G. Larson, working for Redimade Building Company (which was based in Portland).

The church building, now known as the Subud Center, is still going strong and a neat place for meetings, events and large family gatherings.

We continue to keep any ear out for stories, memories and photos of this building. Have something you can share?

Prolific builder Harry Phillips built this English Cottage style Ladd’s Addition home in 1926 for his parents Henry and Louise Phillips. Photo courtesy of Tami and Brian Clare. 

The Henry and Louise Phillips home—located at 2108 SE Cypress—is a special English cottage that Harry built for his parents in 1926. Current residents of the home—Tami and Brian Clare—found our biography of Harry (click here to read the Phillips bio), which triggered a connection to their home. Tami and Brian had seen Harry’s name in the documentation about the house that was submitted as part of the Ladd’s Addition National Historic District nomination package. After visiting the blog, they put two and two together, and sent me a quick e-mail sharing their observation.

According to the nomination: “The house was built by building contractor Harry Phillips for Henry Phillips, possibly a relative, a machinist for Southern Pacific Company, who lived in the house with his wife, Louise.”

Brian and Tami wrote us with the following thoughts about the house:

“We love the style of our home, and so it was very exciting to find your website and know that there are other Harry Phillips homes in Portland!”

They were as excited to learn more about Harry as we were to find this special home he built for his folks. They also shared a photo of a carved ornamental beam, similar to beams found in other Phillips-built homes. Harry’s son Jerry attributes the design of the beam to architect George M. Wolff, who is believed to have designed many of Phillips’ homes.

Detail of a hand-carved beam, Henry and Louise Phillips Home. Photo courtesy of Tami and Brian Clare

Thanks to Tami and Brian for making this connection. We’ve recently put them in touch with Jerry to tell him about his grandparents’ home and to ask a few questions of their own.

In the process of perusing building permits for other research, we’ve come across another Phillips home to add to the list: 3035 NE 23rd.

Next to builder Frank Read, who built at least 20 homes in Alameda, Phillips was the busiest builder in this neighborhood.

The Edward and Bertha Keller House, 3028 NE Alameda. Photo courtesy of Oregon SHPO.

Here’s the official word from SHPO, which was shared via the Oregon Preservation e-mail list:

Constructed in 1924, the Keller House is important as an example of the early works of master designer Elmer E. Feig and the English Cottage Revival style. Feig began his career in 1921 when he obtained a building contractor license while employed by the City of Portland Buildings Bureau as a plans examiner. Feig’s early work included a handful of homes, but he quickly transitioned to apartment buildings where he creatively merged a variety of European-revival styles such as Tudor, Spanish Colonial, Mediterranean, and California Mission. Among his commissions are 24 properties noted in the Portland Historic Resource Inventory as “having architectural merit” and the National Register-listed Spanish Colonial Revival-style Santa Barbara Apartments built in 1928.

SHPO has placed a copy of the nomination form on its website. Do take a look, (click here for a PDF of the application) which will give you appreciation both for the home, and the thoroughness of the application and review process.

This brings to four the total number of homes in the original Olmsted Park or Alameda Park plats that have made it onto the list. The other three are the Thomas J. Autzen house, located at 2425 NE Alameda; the Thomas Prince House, located at 2903 NE Alameda; and the Louis and Elizabeth Woerner House, located at 2815 NE Alameda.

Alameda School, 1923. Picture taken looking southeast from the corner of NE 27th and Fremont. OHS image OrHi 105623.

We received word last week from Portland Public Schools that they’re sharing an inventory of their many historic properties, including our favorite Alameda Elementary School, and nearby Beaumont Middle School.

You can find these reports and many others at this link, which is interestingly housed within the Office of School Modernization.

Looks like Alameda faired well in the analysis in terms of its historic integrity, but Beaumont–due to many alterations made over time–did not. Both buildings were designed by George Jones, the one-man Portland school architectural institution (actually two man institution, his father Thomas had also been architect for the Portland School District years earlier).

The good news for Alameda Elementary School is that it scores well as a candidate for listing on the National Register of Historic Places. Perhaps a small group of interested parents and historic building fans might be up to the task…? Count us in if we can find a quorum.