Harry Phillips was my grandfather. My dad, Jerry, died this past August. Going through Dad’s papers, I came across a sketch of a building Harry may have built, or just planned to build. He was quite a draftsman and I can see where my father inherited his artistic ability.

I also found two sketches Dad did of the 2624 NE Alameda St. house. I also found several old photographs of art deco gas stations, but no indication that they were actually built (designed?) by Harry, but I suspect they were.

I have spent several enjoyable hours this weekend searching for the houses you listed as Harry’s on Google Maps. I think the street numbers have changed a bit, and Google Maps isn’t always accurate, but I had a real sense of his style.

The last time I was in Portland was in 1961. I was eleven. We were leaving Ft. Lewis, WA to see my mother’s mother in California. We stopped by the “old neighborhood” so Dad could show his daughters where he was raised. I suspect it was the Alameda St. house, though I can’t say for sure.

We were raised on stories of what a rascal he had been back in the day. At that time, my father was a captain in the Army, and I had never seen him be anything other than a straight arrow. That day, however, I knew all his childhood stories were true.

Dad noticed an old woman gardening in the house next door. He got out of the car and approached her, saying, “Hi ,Mrs. _______! I bet you don’t remember me.” She turned slowly, looked him up and down, and said, “Yes, I do. You’re that nasty Phillips boy!” I don’t believe I have ever, before or since, seen my father embarrassed.

Needless to say, I refused to let Dad tell these stories to my three boys until they were adults. They had enough ideas of their own!

I have lived in New York state for almost forty years, but I look forward to going to Portland someday and seeing the houses my grandfather built. If you find out any more about them, I would love to hear from you.

Thank you so much for the time you have taken to research the history of this wonderful area. I never knew either of Dad’s parents and you have enriched my life by giving a better sense of who my grandfather was.

Kathryn

BTW, my father was a Portland architect: Neil Kochendoerfer of Edmundson, Kochendoerfer and Kennedy. They did schools, churches and hospitals.