Richard Carl Lehman
Life in Madison Park was almost back to normal in the early ’50s after the Depression and WW2 had disappeared from memory. Businesses were thriving with its many restaurants, a couple of grocery stores and a fifth gas station called Richfield where Starbucks is today (similar to having too many banks now!) Hadfield’s Repair and Gas filled a tank for 23 vents a gallon — outrageous!
There were many twists and turns with the grocery stores. Crowshaw’s Grocery was doing well located where the The Wolf is now (later moved to the present Bert’s Red Apple location). The Lake Shore Delicatessen (later Tully’s and then HomeStreet Bank) was a happening spot — Ken Fraser was the owner and its claim to fame was selling lottery tickets, sundries, wine and beer. John and Millie’s family grocery store called Johnsons, next to the Richfield station, was a before-school stop for candies and socializing but closed due to retirement. Jaffe’s Shoe Repair had been a going concern until shoes became cheap, so it evolved into a jewelry store.
The greatest place to buy low-priced items for birthdays and anniversaries was Bill and Ada’s Ten Cent Store. The only competitor was the Madison Park Hardware store, which is gloriously still standing with Adam Hagan at the helm providing answers to household issues.
The best lunch was an egg sandwich and soup for 70 cents at Madison Park Pharmacy. Both Madison Park Pharmacy (a bigger store) and Ken Lindley’s had super soda fountain specials like hot fudge sundaes with two scoops of hot fudge and five spoons. We welcome the return of the MPP and of course have suggested the soda fountain.
Riley’s Café (Villa Marina Apartments now at the corner of Madison and 43rd) had the distinction of being standing room only as it was imperative to stand behind a patron at the counter to get something to eat quickly. Eventually someone slid off their stool so you could order. People slurped coffee from their saucers to cool it quickly before the ferry horn blew, then rushed off to secure a seat on the way to Todd’s Shipyard in Kirkland. It later became The Silver Swan Café, which rented the Silver Swan to interested parties.
Some commuters came out on top. When two of the Vashon Island vessels were found to be unlicensed, the Silver Swan, a dine-and-dance cruise ship, was put into service instead. The newspaper described the 62-foot floating nightclub's rescue of marooned Vashoners, like Roy Rogers with the mortgage money. Commuters on this run got to knock back decent cups of Joe, dine on yummy hamburgers, pop a few dimes into the jukebox, and trip the light fantastic on the dance floor on the way home from work. As one rider stated, "We used to hate the ride, now we hate getting off. (historylink.org/File/5294)
My grandparents operated a small business on wheels that they placed near water’s edge at the MP beach every spring. It was a snack bar essentially but had the best burgers and hotdogs in the area. Once the awnings opened, the aroma of freshly barbequed foods wafted north downward to the beach.
The eateries drew in droves of folks from everywhere. No licensing required, per se. In those days, farmers from the east side brought fruits and vegetables from their gardens via a large truck into Madison Park. It seemed apples were sweeter than now and the cherries were as big as golf balls that burst with flavor. The carrots appealed to us little tykes and were incomparable. Perhaps the lack of bees is the problem with our fruits and vegetables these days.
Vendors wandered through the streets and offered goods and services like sharpening knives and household repairs, similar to ice cream trucks. Even vacuum and Fuller Brush salesmen made appearances. A friend’s mom was given a demonstration by a salesman who spilled dirt on the floor and with an array of attachments, sucked it all up and even cleaned window blinds. If only it could mow the lawn! We were glad she bought the vacuum because we blew up huge weather balloons from Warshall’s War Surplus store with it. That store was the toy store for preteens — bought a two-man raft for $19.95 plus a bolo knife for making trails in the woods in Canterbury.
The once small Madison Park was becoming a rental haven due to a surge of empty smaller dwellings and soon there was an infiltration of newcomers. These vacant properties were poetically advertised as an area for cheap rents near beaches, parks and the business district, all within walking distance.
Our village had much a single person would need, but sometimes one had to venture to the big city for variety in dining and entertainment. It was nice to mingle for an evening of refreshments and perhaps dancing but you were always sure to see friends from the Park while doing so because Seattle was so small then.
At some point, it was time for nourishment but very few places were open late. El Gaucho to the rescue. Around midnight o’clock, the door would open slightly and your name was called by friends already inside. Steak, eggs, hashbrowns and endless coffee was the usual repast. On special occasions, a specialty drink arrived where the waiter peeled an orange soaked in cognac at arm’s length, which he then dangled into the fresh coffee and lit. It was mesmerizing to watch the flame disappear into the coffee.
Being young and now wide awake at 2 a.m., a great stop on the way home was Birdland on 22nd and Madison. Quincy Jones, Dave Louis, Bill Sunrise (a local DJ) crowded around a piano until just before sunrise. Ray Charles barely started playing but you knew it was him by the first couple of notes.
Madison Park had become a sought-after environment from which to conduct the ’70s. It was casual, it was hippy-like, it was boisterous and fun. The taverns contributed greatly to this happiness and went down in history as a place for college kids and folks pretending to be hippies. It has retained a sense of that freedom and many of us know and can say that this is indeed a Shangri-la.