Photo of the Hazelwood Building, courtesy of Leftbank.

On a recent taping of Outlook Portland [along with the more well-spoken and clever Brian Libby from Portland Architecture and Cafe Unknown's Dan Haneckow] host Rick Emerson asked me what my favorite Portland building was. Easy question: The Weatherly Building on 516 SE Morrison Street. My answer was somewhere along the lines of “elegant, handsome and a landmark for me when I first moved here from Boston.”

I was also asked what my favorite Portland building was that no longer existed. The answer wasn’t so easy. Being a recent newcomer to Portland [six years!] I really have no emotional attachment to Portland’s architecture. I don’t have memories of hanging out at that one bar that’s no longer there or going shopping at some long-lost store with my parents when I was a kid like long-timers do.

So, my answer wasn’t as concrete as had hoped. I chose Hotel Portland. Built in 1890 and leveled in 1951 for a parking lot [and later Pioneer Courthouse Square so I guess that ultimately makes it a win?] the building was one of the first I became aware of that was unceremoniously mowed down in Portland. A perfectly usable building. It happens a lot here in Portland [enthusiastically starting with urban redevelopment in the 1950s] and it’s ultimately changing the landscape. How many architecturally significant building have met their demise since I’ve moved here? I’ve lost count.

I’m always stymied when a building is demolished. Why tear it down? I’m not naive to think that every building should be saved – and maybe there’s a good reason for demolition, such as crumbling infrastructure, irreversible repairs, or it’s full of lead and asbestos – but simply removing a perfectly sound building because some developer has a woody for a new design concept [and one that will be out of fashion in 20 years, hell, five years - I can spot a 2004 project pretty easily] has to have some sort of checks and balances with the city. I certainly don’t have an answer and don’t know the wonkiness behind what makes Portland officials tick and how projects get pushed through [cough neon rose cough].

Which brings us [finally] to the Leftbank project on Broadway. Get this: the developers took an existing [and historically significant space] and beautifully renovated it into a completely usable space.

I wrote about Leftbank for Neighborhood Notes a couple month’s back, [illustrated by Kenneth Aaron's wonderful photographs] and here’s a blurb:

Originally known as the Hazelwood Building [see above photo], designed and built by architect A.E. Doyle in 1923, the building has a fascinating and notorious history. Once housing a restaurant, creamery, candy manufacturer, the building then morphed into a restaurant, beer hall, stood vacant, and most recently housed manufacturing companies. But the most infamous tenant was the Dude Ranch in the 1940s—ground zero for Portland’s jazz scene in the 1940s that attracted local talent and some heavy national acts such as Lionel Hampton, Art Tatum, Nat “King” Cole and a young Thelonious Monk.

Wow, how lame [and really lazy] is quoting yourself from another source? Very, lame.

Anyhow, I guess my point is that older buildings have a place, especially in the tight Portland land market. Tearing down perfectly fine structures so a developer can build “sustainable” condos is ridiculous. That’s why when a project such as Leftbank launches and succeeds it should be applauded and encouraged.

So, what makes someone a part of a community? I always thought it was the neighborhood you lived in. You shop at the local [or nearby] stores, you go to parks by your home, and you get to know the neighbors and shopkeepers.

But, what about the neighborhood or area where you work – are you considered a part of the community? I’ve always, for the most part, worked in industrial parks or neighborhoods that had no connection to community and were only there for the purpose of Monday – Friday and providing food and goods to nearby office parks. On the occasional weekend day I would go in to work, the business parks would be abandoned. And forget about being able to stop by the deli to pick up a bite to eat.

However, the past few years my job has been in two distinct, bustling and alive neighborhoods in Portland: the Clinton Street area and then in the Belmont/Hawthorne area.

Each offered great options for food, coffee and picking up groceries for dinner. It was weird though. I always felt like I was invading the territory of the people who actually lived in the neighborhood. I felt like an imposter.

But then, it dawned on me that I was there five days a week, all day. I gave back to the community. I even visited on my off days to shop. It was like having two separate lives, one at home and one at work.

Each day I’d also took a break and would walk and explore each neighborhood, enjoying the walk, doing a little house porn watching. The streets around the Hawthorne, Belmont and Clinton were very quiet – most of the homeowners were gone – most likely at their own jobs, in other neighborhoods.

And now I’m working in downtown Vancouver, second exit off of I-5. On my way in, I see glimpses of downtown Portland, the race track, the Expo Center in my rearview mirror, and get to go the speed limit since I’m going against the traffic coming INTO Portland. [I originally checked with Amtrak to see if they offered some sort of commuter deal - ya know, take the bus to the downtown Portland train depot, hop on a train, then walk the mile to work. No dice. ]

But back to the commute. Passing the Expo Center I see the Interstate Bridge looming, knowing I’m close. Two exits later, down Broadway, I’m in a different state and city. Welcome to Vancouver, WA, baby! Home of the original Burgerville! Pump your own gas, bitches! Sales tax! Phone booths on the corner!

But, laugh all you want Portlanders – downtown Vancouver is, well, kind of cool. My only myopic vision of Vancouver was being stuck in horrific traffic in horrific Fishers Landing one time long ago and a vague recollection of that mysterious round senior housing building.

Downtown Vancouver though? Different story. My work takes me to an area called Uptown Village, where its Main Street is bustling.  There’s ample parking. From my work, I can walk to a coffee shop owned by two “twentysomethings” according to the newspaper clipping they have on the wall [they serve a killer Americano - using Stumptown]. There’s a record store – a record store that sells tamales from the back room. Antique stores here and there. A Mexican joint and a bookstore [any bookstore that has an "oddities section" gets a thumbs up].

Truthfully, I have no idea what’s on either end of Main Street – it could be a 100 foot waterfall plunge or end of the earth or an eight-lane expressway. I’m myopic remember?

But that one strip? It rocks.

So, here I am again – a visitor that feels like someone invading. I pick up the Vancouver Voice and read about the local issues or events that take place after 5 pm  or on weekends, chat with the pizza store owner while waiting for a slice, check out the flyers for events [some in the hood, some over in Portland] on the tattoo shop windows, ponder about visiting the local brewpub or wonder what’s up with Governor Gregoire. But, then I split for home, cross the bridge and remember that I can’t pump my own gas.

I plan on doing some hardcore, lunch hour pedestrianism/ flâneurism and veer off to some of the side streets though during the week. Vancouver, you kind of fascinate me.

Paul's on Broadway

Scribbled on the back of the photo in pencil is: New swimming pool at Oregon City.

File this baby under, “creepy.”

Have some time for some low-level navel gazing? Pull up a chair.

Lost Oregon was never intended to be a history blog. It was more of a way for me to explore Portland through the eyes of recent history – most notably the post WWII era – and the myriad of postcards, brochures, pictures, that seemed to fall in my lap at various ye olde junk shops and thrift stores around town. It just kind of morphed into a blog that definitely falls under historical. The changes in Portland in just the past 20 years have been enormous so the comparisons of “now” vs. “then” can be striking.

Lately, additional content for the blog has had another venue –Twitter. There, at @lostoregon, I post short bits about buildings, older historical businesses or museums – many that are closing. Gone. Oregon’s history is disappearing in front of us. Doing these quick Tweets, it finally dawned on me that instead of slowly fading away like an old building that’s been ignored for years and eventually demolished, the cuts and demolitions are daily. I feel like I’m recording history being erased.

But, instead of being an undertaker I still plan on celebrating Oregon’s uniqueness – and its colorful history through found imagery. Lost Oregon certainly won’t turn into an economics blog, that’s for sure.  I’ll let someone else write the state’s obit – I’ll merely illustrate it.

Man, sesquicentennial fever has gripped Oregon. Officially launched on Saturday with a kick-off party in Salem and lots of museums and organizations offering free admission, the party is just getting started – year-round events are planned all year to get people of all ages involved in the history of their state. And if the economy keeps tanking there’s going to be a lot more people with idle time on their hands – let’s hope some of the more expensive museums open their doors for free admission during 2009.  I’ll certainly do my best to keep, um, “educating” readers about the best state in the union.

Fifty years ago Oregon also partied down and celebrated its 100th birthday. And they did it by holding the Centennial Exposition.

At the time it was the largest fair in the west since San Francisco World’s Fair of 1939. The expo began on June 10 and continued through September 17, 1959.

The exposition promised to “cover all phases of state activity with special attention paid to the basic exhibits of lumber, agriculture, electronics, powers, fashions, food processing, light metals, fishing and sports.” Yep, sounds like Oregon.

An aqua center featured seats for 7,000 spectators, and the promise of  “water festivals and spectaculars will be performed on an estuary of the Columbia river adjoining the expo grounds.”

Total space for the expo was 80 acres with parking for over 15,000 cars.

Twenty-four countries participated by exhibiting their products and crafts – and each country were given full reign to get their biz on.

Most of the images in the post come from the official program. Chock full of ads, photos and editorial, the one thing that really sticks out is that many of the photos of the expo feature exhibits still being constructed, renderings of the grounds and lots of dirt paths.

The postcards I have managed to nab throughout the years are obviously more colorful but the traffic in them seems rather low. Three years later Seattle hosted the wonderful 1962 World’s Fair – and got the Space Needle and a monorail. What did we get? I’m not sure if anything still exists from the original grounds. But, I like to think the Oregon Centennial Expo was a bit more scrappy and DIY – kind of like Portland, now.

The site of the expo.

Two renderings,  from what I can tell from photos,  looked nothing like the completed grounds. Still, very cool style.

One of many exhibits.

The big board from the Pacific Telephone display “will show how calls are automatically routed.” Oh, 1959, you slay me.

Modern cafeteria.

Work still being done on the grounds. This shot shows the East Plaza of the 11-acre Expo building showing vivid [and very MODERN!] 510-foot mural by Hansen Associates covering the entire east wall. Was this mural actually done by muralist Carl Morris?

The fire sculpture was a 50-foot tower rising from a circular pool of water with gas flames 40 feet high that burned the entire 100 days of the expo. What happened to this?!

Here’s another shot from a postcard:

The top photo was the Lumber Industry Pavilion that was designed as a permanent structure to “show the freedom of expression possible in wood construction.”

Bottom photo is the PGE building of grilled concrete that showed the cycle of water usage from rain storms.

So, back to the Lumber Industry Pavillion and the permanent structure. My wild guess is that it now houses Marineland@ Pier 99 [image from the excellent waymarking.com]. Any clues or ideas? Here’s the original postcard shot for a better shot:

And my favorite structure from the expo:

The Hall of Religious History as seen from the Garden of Tomorrow. “Erected to house the murals of Carl Morris and the exhibits which portray the history of various religious faiths in Oregon.”

I’ve got more Expo imagery that I will be posting throughout the year. It really is one of my favorite Lost Oregon artifacts. Anyone out there want to share a memory of their attendance?

Score.

Just when I think I’ve exhausted my 60s Portland finds, this sucker falls out of the sky.

The Clothes Horse [no, not the Clothes Whore] was located at 721 SW Broadway and was billed as “one of America’s most outstanding specialty shops!” [The exclamation point is theirs.]

The keyword here is “specialty” – based on the photos from the postcard, it looks like the joint sold clothes, hats, knick-knack and accessories for the cast of the Valley of the Dolls. The shop had different sections to the store.

Here’s the opening shot:

Let’s zoom in, shall we?

The Gift Horse section – featuring a less-robust Joan from Mad Men.

Men’s Clothing – back in the day when clothing and interior design were one.

The Casual Downs Shop – anything but.

The Winners Circle.

Here’s the back of the postcard in boring old black and white:

The site is now Cramer Hall at PSU. Nordstrom.

Once boasting air conditioning, ample free parking, color TV and direct dialing phones, the Riverside West Motor Hotel has been reborn as the swanky new Hotel Fifty.

Here’s a shot from approximately the early 60s:

And here’s the now shot:

Me likey.

Hotel Fifty boasts the H5O bistro & bar, and according to the web site,  a “$7M total makeover from top to bottom, inside and out.”

Kudos to the builders, developers and owners for taking a perfectly fine,  usable building and, instead of leveling it, expanded and re-used it.

Then:

Now:

View Larger Map

Broadway in Portland is kind of a boring stretch these days. On the other hand, it also has more trees than it did in 1955 when the above postcard was snapped [my clue was the 1955 “It’s Always Fair Weather” being screened on the theater on the right].

Of course, The Jackson Tour reigns supreme on this stretch of Broadway.

On the extreme left you can barely make out the bottom floor of the Heathman – the light blue exterior, Coca-Cola sign and Rexall Drugs sign.

As far as The Fox and Orpheum pictured – long gone – they were both torn down [obviously].

The Orpheum, according to Cinema Treasures, was

known as the Orpheum Theatre from 1929 until it closed in the mid- 1970’s. Its last operators were Mann Theatres who gave a seating capacity of 1,360. It was demolished for a clothing store to be built on the site.

Check out the 1965 photo and discussion on Cinema Treasures on the fate of  The Fox, and an amazing Flickr site that features Portland theaters.

Beginning in the 1940s, The Castle Jazz Band was a big deal in the Portland jazz Dixieland scene, named after the Castle jazz club in Gladstone. Here’s a description of the building from Robert Dietsche’s excellent Jumptown: The Golden Years of Portland Jazz:

In the thirties it was a roadhouse tavern made out of hand-cut stone by an imported French stonecutter, complete with turrets, arched windows, medieval doors, and a tower, which was removed later.

Here’s a shot of the structure taken back in 2005 before it met its demise:

I’ve driven by occasionally and have watched the metamorphosis of the patch of land. According to the planner for Clackamas county that I spoke with a couple years ago, housing was planned for the land. Not a surprise.

As a former editor of a local builder magazine, I’ve seen homebuilders struggle the past couple of years – especially now with the economy. When I worked on the magazine back in 2003 their biggest problem was lack of land to build on. Now? Staying alive.

According to the signage, there are 10 lots available. Only two homes have been built. And damn, what a depressing sight.

Here are the two homes, surrounded by a castle-like brick wall to give the “community” some sort of exclusively:

Here’s the other end:

One of the homes, built in that typical, boring “Northwest Style” stands vacant. Is that a hint of castle motif?

The kicker though is the signage. I just noticed that the faux gated community is called….wait for it…Castle Park. James Kunstler was quoted as saying once that developers like to call the developments they build after whatever tree or land they destroyed. True.

Here’s a closer look at the castle-influenced signage:

Snarkiness aside, I wasn’t terribly upset when the Castle was demolished. It was an eyesore, probably a hangout for lowlifes [I'm sure the neighbors loved THAT] and ya know, people need housing. And I feel for homebuilders – a lot of good people are losing their shirts. But I guess I shouldn’t be so shocked at how non-original and unimaginative the developers were with the land. At least the teenagers smoking pot and drinking booze will now have a nice warm house- and a wall to disguise any shenanigans- to break into and keep warm. It could be called a blueprint of The Atlantic piece last March on suburbs as the new slums. At least the Castle had some history behind it, some weird semblance of culture. Castle Park? Instant slum.

Here’s the Googlemaps view. Photo taken after the castle was demolished but before fence and housing were built:

View Larger Map

So, I’m doing a bit of an experiment with my new Ultra Flip video camera. I’m shooting and editing small films [nothing more than 120 seconds] of mid-century, historical and not-yet forgotten buildings and sites around the Portland metro area.

I might even work up to doing interviews and – gasp- edit them into the footage.

But first I have to buy a tripod.

Yeah, I know. It’s shaky, amateur and not edited very smoothly but I figured if I don’t get something up – even if it’s a bit suck, I never will.

You’ve been warned.

So, the Kellogg Bowl in Milwaukie. Amazing signage [duh] and architecture for a building that’s still very much in use. And everyone loves bowling: seniors, families, and hipsters [many who might be actually bowling non-ironically]. The day we were there [9:30 on a Sunday morning!] the place had a decent crowd and two – three tops – beers on tap: Michelob, Miller Lite and something else.

If I remember correctly, I had friends back in the day who wore bowling shoes – in daylight and in public. I think they were going for the punk/mod aesthetic. Pfttt. They wish. The old dude bowling his ass off on a Sunday morning then going our for a smoke break every 10 minutes is way more punk rock then they ever were.

The cool kids at Portland’s Mid-Century Modern League shot me over a press release announcing a show they’re putting on. It’s a retro slide show performance by “pop-culture humorist” and author Charles Phoenix, celebrating 50s and 60s tourist traps, theme parks, car culture, space age style, parties, holidays and more. Phoenix also promises to bring some Oregon goodies as well.

WHEN: Thursday, October 23rd – 8:00 PM

WHERE: The Fabulous Clinton Street Theater – 2522 SE Clinton St.

Admission is $15