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Fairview Hotel: 1916
... I have sudden craving for a delicious CORBY CAKE™. Gold Dust Twins "I will agree with you sister why do they want to break up ... it was better than fair. It's downright byootyfull. Gold Dust Twins "Fairbank's Gold Dust Washing Powder - The Many Purpose ... 
 
Posted by Dave - 08/27/2012 - 1:21pm -

Washington circa 1916. "Fairview Hotel, 1st Street and Florida Avenue." The proprietor is former slave and "colored philosopher" Keith Sutherland. See the comments below for more on him. Harris & Ewing glass negative. View full size. Room comes with outside bar.I wonder if he ever tried to patent his Pepecual Motion machine? Soup to GoTake a good look at the wooden cart. It has a kerosene container with a tap. It looks like it goes under the "soup" pot. Maybe Mr. Sutherland took his cart around and sold food as a vendor. He has a counter on both sides! Amazing. I don't know why......but I have sudden craving for a delicious CORBY CAKE™. Gold Dust Twins"I will agree with you sister why do they want to break up Fairview for" Cryptic sign. One might assume the city wanted to tear down the, um, stately Fairview Hotel. I can't imagine this was seriously a room for rent, unless it's just the check-in. Looks more like a ramshackle lunch stand. Fair View?Why, I'd say it was better than fair. It's downright byootyfull. Gold Dust Twins"Fairbank's Gold Dust Washing Powder - The Many Purpose Cleaner. Gold Dust products were represented by the Gold Dust Twins, two African-American children surrounded by gold coins. The orange box with the universally recognized twins practically jumped off the shelf. In fact the twins were one of the best known trademarks of the 19th century. Let the Twins Do Your Work was the tag line. The back of the box shows the twins tackling several household chores as well as a list of 34 cleaning jobs made easier by using Gold Dust. http://www.the-forum.com/advert/golddust.htm Wow!Now this is one of the most interesting photos posted on Shorpy in a long time. I would love to know the story behind the "I will agree with you sister..." sign. This Quaint StructureWashington Post, September 3, 1916. PLEAD FOR QUAINT HOTEL Hundred Neighbors Sign a Petition To Save Sutherland's "Fairview." A petition eight feet long, signed by about 100 neighbors of the Fairview Hotel, First street and Florida avenue northeast, will be introduced as evidence against the condemnation and closing of this quaint structure when a hearing is held at the District building Tuesday to determine whether the property shall be razed for sanitary reasons. Keith Sutherland is the aged colored proprietor, and he hobbled to the District building last week and appealed to Daniel Donovan, secretary to the board of commissioners, to save his place. Since filing his appeal the health department has investigated the property. Its report has been turned over to Commissioner Brownlow, and will be heard at the hearing. Fairview is a one-room hotel, opposite the Baltimore and Ohio freight yards. On the spotless whitewashed walls the proprietor, Sutherland, has written some quaint bits of philosophy for the edification of his customers -- truck drivers and employes about the yards. Corby - Washington's Biggest BakeryArticle from October 1915 issue of Bakers Review courtesy of Google Books: The largest bakery in Washington--and model one, too, in every sense of the word--is that owned and operated by the Corby Baking Co., one of the most progressive baking concerns in the United States. The firm was organized twenty years ago, when they started a little bakery down town. In 1902 they bought out a baker at 2305 Georgia Ave., (where their present plant is situated), and then built the first addition. In 1912 they built again, giving the Plant of the Corby Baking Co., Washington, D. C. building its present size. The article even has pictures! Say!I think I stayed there one year Thursday night! Roof GardenFor me a most entertaining aspect of the photo is the three rusty tins being used as planters on top of the shack:     FAIR     VIEW     HOTEL And the whiskey bottles on the stand tell a lot about this place. Those signsKeith Sutherland's quaint signs would qualify today as genuine folk art. Gold Dust TwinsFred Lynn and Jim Rice were known as the Gold Dust Twins in 1975. I figured the name came from somewhere, but I didn't know it was from washing powder. Sage DiesWashington Post, Feb. 21, 1933. Sage Dies Former Slave Prophesied Voters' Landslide for Roosevelt. Keith Sutherland, colored philosopher and prophet whose political forecast won him the thanks of President-elect Roosevelt, fulfilled his final prediction Sunday when he folded his hands about a Bible and died at his home, 1640 Eleventh street. The former slave felt the approach of death Friday, his children said. He called his family together and instructed them to prepare a funeral, saying that he would die on the Sabbath. Last August Sutherland dreamed of a great voters' landslide for Franklin D. Roosevelt. The dream was so "clear" that he wrote Mr. Roosevelt a description of it. Mr. Roosevelt responded with a "thank you" note saying he found the prediction "very encouraging." For the past half century Sutherland has kept a restaurant in Washington where the walls were posted with his prophecies, many of them showing unusual foresight. He was 79 years old. Funeral services will be held tomorrow at 1 p.m. at the P.A. Lomax funeral home, Fourteenth and S streets. Interment will be at Harmony Cemetery. He is survived by four children. The Real McCoyIt actually looks like Grandpappy Amos McCoy's apple cider stand. Hostelry Spared Local News Briefs Upon recommendation of both the health officer, William C. Woodward, and Building Inspector Hacker, the District commissioners decided not to condemn "Fairview," the famous hostelry at First street and Florida avenue northwest , owned by Keith Sutherland, colored philosopher. About a month ago complaints reached the health office that "Fairview" was insanitary and a menace to the health of the city. The commissioners decided to investigate, but before they were ready to take action, an eight-foot petition signed by hundreds of residents of the northeast section, asking that "Fairview" be allowed to remain, was presented to them by Sutherland. Washington Post, Sep 9, 1916 District Building Notes Keith Sutherland, the aged colored proprietor of the Fairview Hotel, at First street and Florida avenue northwest, impressed city authorities so much last week with a plea for the retention of his property, which had almost been condemned to be razed, that it is likely the "hostelry" will be allowed to stand. Sutherland hobbled to the District building and presented a petition for his place signed by about 200 neighbors. Health Officer Woodward investigated the property and it is understood reported favorably on letting it remain. The building inspector, Morris Hacker, has the matter now under consideration. Sutherland is famous throughout his section of the city for his bits of philosophy, with which the walls of his establishment are painted. Washington Post, Sep 10, 1916 Alley Cook-ShopsWashington Post, Jan. 1, 1897. LICENSES FOR ALLEY COOK SHOPS. Judge Kimball Decides They Are Liable To a Fee of $25 a Year. The alleys of this city are filled with colored cook-shops, which heretofore have paid no license fee. Judge Kimball said yesterday, however, that every one of them must pay $25 a year. Only the police and the people who visit the numerous alleys and little streets of the city know how many of these cook-shops exist. The colored people generally resort to these places for pigs' feet, meat pie, and substantial provender prepared by the old mammies and quaint old colored men who run them, and cook dishes to the taste of the people of their race. The police yesterday brought into court, as a test case, Keith Sutherland, who has conducted a cook-shop for many years at 1111 R street. He was released on bonds after he took out a license, and as the matter has now been tested the police will bring all the proprietors of unlicensed cook-shops to the Police Court. Into the FutureThe descendants of Keith Sutherland's little counter 100 years ago were still going strong when I moved to Washington in the 1980s. I was directed by my new colleagues to explore the alleyways around our offices at M Street and Connecticut Avenue for (legal) hole-in-the-wall eateries for lunch and breakfast. It didn't take long for these places to become favorites of mine. I've been gone from D.C. for 20 years now; I'm wondering if these establishment still exist. Sutherland Family 1880 Census 1643 Vermont Avenue Sandy Sutherland, 54 Rach Sutherland, 57, (wife) Webster Sutherland, 12, (son) Keith Sutherland, 25, (son) Hattey Sutherland, 22, (daughter-in-law) Mary Sutherland, 6, (daughter) Willie Sutherland, 4, (son) 1900 Census 1112 R St Keith Sutherland, 46 Hattie Sutherland, 44, (wife) Arthur Sutherland, 3, (son - adopted) Webster Sutherland, 32, (brother) 1920 Census 104 Seaton Place Northeast Keith S Sutherland, 65 Hattie D Sutherland, 64, (wife) Webster Sutherland, 52, (brother) ???, 14, (daughter) Arthur L., 21, (son) Cora, 15, (daughter-in-law) Pinkey ???, 52, (mother-in-law) Just like India of todayHere in India, we still have thousands of "hotels" just like this one. I can walk to the end of the street here and find three of them that in black-and-white wouldn't look so different. Many are even on wheels (carts with bicycle wheels). Most have similar folk-art signs complete with misspellings. And similar records of cleanliness. I always thought it was interesting that restaurants in India are still called hotels. Now I see it's not odd, just archaic. Corby BakeryIt later became a Wonder Bread bakery (last time I was by there, the old "Wonder Bread" sign was still in place). The Corby buildings are still there (east side of Georgia just north of Bryant Street) and now house a strip of retail shops and fast food places. "Arbiter of all Brawls""Keitt" Sutherland was getting towards the end of a colorful life here. Washington Post, February 4, 1900. EX-KING OF THE BOTTOM Once Dominated a Notorious Section of the City. WHERE CRIME AND EVIL REIGNED. Reminiscences of "Hell's Bottom," Which Formally Kept the Police Department Busy, Recalled by "Keitt" Sutherland, the Odd Character Who Figured as Self-appointed Arbiter of all Brawls –- His Curious Resort in Center of that Section. KEITT'S. I, am, going, to, put, my, name, above, THE DOOR. The above legend with its superfluity of commas, inscribed on a piece of board about a foot square, nailed above the door of a tumble-down building at the intersection of Vermont avenue, Twelfth and R streets, marks the abode of the “King of Hell’s Bottom.” The structure thus adorned is the pool room of “Keitt” Sutherland, overlord and supreme ruler of the negroes in the vicinity. Although the encroachments of modern dwellings, increase in the police force, and other accompaniments of growing metropolitan life have somewhat shorn him of his feudal rights and curtailed his former realm, “Keitt” is now, and always will be, monarch of all he chooses to survey. It is still within the memory of the present generation when “Hell’s Bottom” was a fact and not a memory. The swampy, low-lying ground bred mosquitoes, malaria, and – thugs. It was the quarter set apart for and dominated by the tough element of the colored population. A white man with money in his pocket studiously avoided the locality after dark, or else set a fast pace to which he adjusted the accompaniment of a rag-time whistle. Half a dozen saloons congested within the radius of a block served the barroom habitués with whisky as hot as chile con carne and as exhilarating as Chinese pundu. Fights arose approaching the dimensions of a riot, and the guardians of the law had all they could do to quell the disturbances. A policeman or two was killed, and that, together with the growth of the city, led to the rehabilitation of “Hell’s Bottom.” Now it is interesting mainly in its wealth of reminiscence. “How did I happen to put up that sign?” Keitt repeats after the inevitable query. “I’ll tell you. You see my folks used to own that property, and they was sort o’ slow dyin’ off. I knowed I was going to come into it some day, an’ I thought I might as well let people know it. About that time a show came along, and they sang a song somethin’ like this: “I am going to put my name above the door. For it’s better late than never. An’ I’ll do so howsomever.’ It gave me an idea. I just put that sign above the door. After while the folks died, an’ I got the property.” Queer Sort of Place. Guided by the much-be-commaed signboard, the visitor goes to the door of the poolroom and inquires for “Keitt.” He finds the room filled with colored youth of all sizes, the adults of which are engaged in playing pool at 5 cents a game. The balls on the table are a joblot, the survivors of the fittest in many a hard-fought game. The cushions are about as responsive as brickbats. But the players do not seem to care for that so long as they can drive the balls into the pockets and make their opponents pay for the sport. An ancient, dingy card on the wall informs the reader that he is within the precincts of the “Northern Light Poolroom.” The same placard also gives the following warning: “Persons are cautioned against laying around this building.” “Where is Keitt?” inquires the intruder, who finds himself regarded with suspicion. “Two doahs down below. Jest hollah ‘Katy,’ an’ he’ll show up,” is the answer. “Keitt” on inspection justified the right to the title of “king.” He is a giant, weighing 250 pounds, well distributed over a broad frame six feet and one inch in height. He looks like a man who would not shun a rough and tumble fight. He does not have to. A registered striking machine off in the corner shows that he can deliver a 500-pound blow. He might do better, but unfortunately the makers of the instrument did not figure that a man’s fist was a pile driver, and 500 pounds is as high as the machine will register. Many are the tables told of his prowess; of how he whipped in single combat the slugger of the community, a man who had challenged any five to come on at once; of how when only a bootblack in the ‘60’s, he sent three bullies about their business with broken heads and black eyes; of how he used to suppress incipient riots in his saloon by means of his strong arm and without the aid of the bluecoats in the neighborhood. Indeed, the police used to say that “Keitt” was as good as a sergeant and a squad with loaded “billies.” But “Keitt” (the name is a popular conversion of the more familiar “Keith”) has not won his way entirely through the medium of brawn. He is a man of intelligence, and has a keen eye for business. He is the magnate of the neighborhood, with property in his name, money in the bank, and a good comfortable roll about his place of business. He can go down in his pocket and bring out more $50 bills than the average man caries about in the $5 denomination. If one hints robbery or burglary “Keitt” simply rolls his eye expressively, and enough has been said. No one cares to tamper with his till. Plenty of Local Color. The saloon on the outside looks like a combination coal and wood shed. “Keitt” apologetically explains that it was formerly a stable, and that he has not had time to fix up much. Nevertheless, the fish, beans, sandwiches, and other eatables are so tempting that the frequenters of the place do not pay much attention to external appearances. The magic of the proprietor’s name draws as much custom as he can attend to, and fully as much as the customers can pay for. There is a charm about the old haunt that cannot be dispelled by police regulations or the proximity of modern dwellings. On Saturday night the place takes on something of its old glory. In the smoke-begrimed room – hardly 12 by 12 – are found thirty or forty men eating and talking. Through the thick clouds of smoke the lamps throw out a dim gleam, and the odor of frying fish and the fumes of the pipe struggle for the mastery. The crowd gets noisy at times, but any attempt at boisterousness is quieted by a word from the dominant spirit of the gathering. If any one gets obstreperous he is thrown out on the pavement, and it makes little difference to the bouncer whether the mutinous one lands on his head or not. This is the negro Bohemia. They who live from hand to mouth love to come her. The boot-black with a dime receives as much consideration as the belated teamster with a roll of one-dollar bills. Business is business, and “Keitt” is a business man. Consequently there is very little credit given. “Five or ten cents is about the limit,” says the autocrat. But “Keitt” is something of a philanthropist., although he makes his charity redound to his personal benefit. An illustrated placard, done in what appears to be an excellent quality of shoe blacking, has the figure of a man sawing wood. It bears the following words, “Just tell them that you saw me sawing wood at Keitt’s for a grind.” The term “grind” is synonymous with mastication, the wood sawyer thereby being supposed to do a stunt for the recompense of a square meal. This does away with the tearful plaint that is ever the specialty of the hungry and penniless, gives employment to the idle, and increases the size of “Keitt’s” wood pile. The latter is sold to the negroes of the neighborhood at prevailing prices. “Keitt” figures that his method is wiser than giving unlimited credit, and he is probably right. “Keitt” is a mine of reminiscence. He has been in Washington 1862, when he came from Charles County, Md., where he was born a slave. He was a bootblack around the Treasury building, and he remembers seeing Lincoln’s funeral pass by, with the white horse tied behind the hearse. His history of the rise and fall of “Hell’s Bottom” is quite valuable from a local standpoint. Divested of dialect, it is as follows “’Hell’s Bottom’ began to get its name shortly after the close of the war in 1866. There were two very lively places in those days. One was a triangular square at Rhode Island avenue and Eleventh street. It was here that an eloquent colored preacher, who went by the name of ‘John the Baptist,’ used to hold revival services, which were attended by the newly-freed slaves. The revival was all right, but the four or five barrooms in the neighborhood used to hold the overflow meetings, and when the crowds went home at night you couldn’t tell whether they were shouting from religion or whisky. “Then there was what was known as the ‘contraband camp,’ located on S street, between Twelfth and Thirteenth. The negroes who had just been freed stayed there waiting for white people to come and hire them. They got into all sorts of trouble, and many of them settled in the neighborhood. Money was scarce and whisky was cheap – a certain sort of whisky – and the combination resulted in giving the place the name which it held for so many years. The police force was small. There was no police court, and the magistrates before whom offenders were brought rarely fixed the penalty at more than $2. Crime and lawlessness grew terribly, and a man had to fight, whenever he went into the ‘Bottom.’ “The unsettled condition of the locality made things worse. Men used to shoot reed birds where Corcoran street now is. I have caught many a mud turtle there in the 60’s. I saw a man get drowned in the creek at Seventh and R streets. At the point where the engine-house is now located on R street a man could catch all the minnows he wanted for bait. Tall swamp grass afforded easy concealment for any one who wanted to hide after a petty theft or the robbery of some pedestrian. Consequently, it is small wonder that the law was defied in those days. Many Disorderly Rowdies. “A white man never wanted to cross the ‘Bottom’ after dark. If he did he had to keep stepping. Just how many crimes of magnitude were committed there no one can tell. The life of the negro was far from easy. If a fellow took a girl to church, the chances were that he would not take her home. A gang of rowdies would meet him at the church door as he came out. They would tell him to ‘trot,’ and he seldom disobeyed. They escorted the girl themselves. It was impossible to stop this sort of petty misdeeds. “At times the trouble grew serious. I have seen 500 negroes engaged in a fight all at once in ‘Hell’s Bottom.’ That was during the mayoralty elections, and the riot would be started by the discovery of a negro who was voting the Democratic ticket. I have had big fights in my old saloon, but there was only one that I could not stop with the assistance of two bouncers I had in those days. There were fully fifty men in the saloon at the time, and most of them were drunk. They began to quarrel, and when I could not stop them I blew a distress call. About fifteen policemen came, for in those days it was useless to send two or three to quell a disturbance around here. When word came that the police were after them the last man of them rushed through the rear part of the saloon, and I’ll give you my word that they broke down the fences in five back yards in getting away. Not a man of them was captured. “Ah, those were the days. Things are quiet around here now, but sometimes we have a little fun, and then the boys go to the farm for ninety days. I keep ‘em pretty straight in my place, though, let me tell you.” (The Gallery, D.C., Eateries & Bars, Harris + Ewing)
Main Street: 1920
... era of photos. I wonder if it's painted or a decal. Gold Dust Twins The fabled Gold Dust Twins! I have heard about them all my life, but this is the first ... 
 
Posted by Dave - 08/08/2012 - 1:33pm -

Fall River, Massachusetts, circa 1920. "Main Street." Where Hustle meets Bustle. 8x10 inch dry plate glass negative, Detroit Publishing Company. View full size. Took an axeLook for an older lady in the photo. It could be Lizzie Borden, who would have been 60 around the time of this picture. A Hat Company's DreamNary a man, women or child who doesn't don a hat! I have worn "old men's hats" since I was in high school, and it's hard to find fedoras these days. I love studying the people and try and imagine what the conversations of the day were about. Of course, I am a pipe smoker, so my eyes were drawn to one on the sidewalk. Lots to look at in this photo! Weather StationWow! An awful lot going on in this picture! I like the weather instruments perched atop the corner of the building in the upper left. I wonder if that belongs to the drug store below or an amateur meteorologist? Ashes by nowPretty much everything in this photo is gone. A massive fire in 1928 destroyed many of the buildings seen here, including the Mohican Hotel, the Globe Newspaper building, and the Wilbur. The imposing edifice on the right is City Hall, which was demolished in the 1960s to make room for I-195. Fall River had been a massive, highly prosperous textile manufacturing city in the late 1800s. As the mills closed or moved south in the 1930s, the city suffered an economic collapse and never recovered. It's a pretty sad, empty place today. Signs of the Times I'm nostalgic for the civility evident in a photo like this. There is an obvious formality in the architecture and dress but it is balanced by a casual interaction evidenced by the people stopping to chat in the street, walking and shopping. The streets are busy but no one is racing. This was the only "social network"! As a sign painter (rapidly becoming a dinosaur) I'm just staggered by the volume and variety of the work in this and many similar shots. Before the dominance of the computer all this work was done by hand and there was enough work to keep any skilled craftsman busy full time. No corporate plastic indistinguishable from one city to the next. Thanks for letting me time travel back to my grandfathers time -- the upside of the computer! Same womanThe woman with the wide white collar by the Drugstore is also in this photo! Judging by the amount of peopleit must be a Saturday. Long may she waveThere's a little flag on the window of the A.G. Weeks office on the left. I've never seen that in this era of photos. I wonder if it's painted or a decal. Gold Dust TwinsThe fabled Gold Dust Twins! I have heard about them all my life, but this is the first time I've laid eyes on them. Thank you, Dave. [You're welcome, and you can see more of them here. - Dave] Standing on the CornerWatching all the girls go by. Wait, that was the Four Lads. 1953. Some things never change. Standing on the CornerWatching all the girls phweet phwew go by. The guys on the right of the photo are great! As mentioned previously, the interaction between so many of these people on the street is wonderful to see. Now I think they would be talking but not face to face. WowIn all of the hundreds (thousands) of photos I have ravenously devoured since discovering Shorpy just recently, this one has to be the most richly detailed. Wonderful! Your diligent work has had a profound impact on me, Dave. Thanks so much. Re: Took an axeI think Lizzie was a bit of a recluse by this time. She was very big into animal care. The human-nature specialist will give a knowing nod on that fact. RexallI had no idea Martin Balsam's middle name was "Cough." Speaking of signsNote the one for Occident Flour. I'd like to make more and better bread too. (She says while surfing the net at work.) But I'm such a Shorpy addict! Stars and StripesIt's interesting to count the flags; nearly every business seems to be displaying one. Cars & More CarsIt is amazing just how quickly the automobile took over the center of the cities. In pics from 1905 hardly any cars, around 1910 we see a few more, but by 1920 they dominate the scene! I have two very different responses to this photoThis picture brings about two very different responses in me. (1) Being that I'm a huge history buff born and brought up in the U.S., these snapshots of old Americana are so exciting for me. Like others, I love combing through the photo for fascinating details, and can't help but wonder what these lovely people talked and thought about as they went about their day. Likely, save for references to modern amenities and gadgets, I'd probably marvel at how their ponderings don't veer that far from my own every day ones. Soon after, I start wishing I could step into the photograph and walk among these people. I'd love to eavesdrop and interact with them, smell the air around us, take in the warmth of the sun, and just feel the difference a century makes. This rumination however, quickly brings on my second response: (2) As a person of color I wonder how reality would really shape my experience walking down this street. How would I be looked at and treated by these people? I see the joviality and smiles on their faces, but I wonder if I would be shunned and turned away from if I were the one to approach them. Someone mentioned the civility with which these people seem to present themselves, and I certainly understand that it was in response to their clothes and manner of walk, but I wonder how civil they would be when faced with someone of differing color? (Sorry to bring this up, this is just what my damn brain turns to and till now, I've never spoken of it on this site). Apothecary!What are cold and grip pills? [Remedies for people with colds or the grip (also spelled grippe). - Dave] Interesting notethis entire section of main street was destroyed by a fire on February 2, 1928. Gold Dust TwinsIf you're at all interested in advertising before 1960, I recommend hunting down a copy of Frank Rowsome's "They Laughed When I Sat Down: An Informal History of Advertising in Words and Pictures." You'll find the origins of all kinds of things that are still current (e.g., the origin of "Sunny Jim", Pears' Soap, and on and on). Photographer, please wait 15 seconds!Don't shoot yet, I'd like to see the face of this mystery girl more close. Please, wait until she gets the sunny spot. Thanks! My GrandfatherMy grandfather was a young police officer around this time and makes me wonder if he could be among the three or four police officers I can see in this photo. I find it fascinating to think of the possibility. Also, I thought the fire was stopped at the building just before the Daily Globe and then the wind shifted to the east sending it up Bedford Street. And I'll have to check, but I thought you could still see some of the Globe lettering on the side of the building. Perhaps just a memory from my youth. What this place needs -is traffic lights! I count at least five men wearing the hats of officialdom, while amiable strolling overdressed citizens wander anywhere the muse takes them. A different age that looks rather charming. (The Gallery, DPC, Streetcars)
Manhattan Terminal: 1906
... a simple, utilitarian structure. Gold Rush The Gold Dust Twins, Goldie & Dustie were used to market Fairbanks Gold Dust ... 
 
Posted by Dave - 07/31/2012 - 2:56pm -

New York circa 1906. "Manhattan entrance to Brooklyn Bridge." The street railroad terminal. Detroit Publishing Company glass negative. View full size. DesignedBy Escher? What a marvelous mix of angles and forms concatenating into such a simple, utilitarian structure. Gold RushThe Gold Dust Twins, Goldie & Dustie were used to market Fairbanks Gold Dust Washing Powder. It was around until the mid 1950s, when the characters were no longer acceptable. Handsome characterWearing a derby and standing on the platform, apparently much happier than the dour fellow in the straw boater on the same level- NYC MuggingThose two men in the peanut gallery (upper left) look they are planning to relieve the photographer of his equipment, posthaste. Leaning on the railingis a man who knows something that you don't. Watch out ladiesfor the dashing and debonair young fellow on the second deck to the left. Just waiting to unleash his charms on some unsuspecting lass. Another fine messIsn't that Stan Laurel on the far right? (The Gallery, Boats & Bridges, DPC, NYC, Railroads)
Dearborn Street Station: 1910
... John Hertz, he of car rental fame. We'll discuss the Gold Dust Twins another time. Before the operation That's an ... and others over the years. We lost one of the "Gold Dust Twins" on that sign at the right of the frame. Adam's Ribs, ... 
 
Posted by Dave - 07/20/2012 - 3:44pm -

Chicago circa 1910. "Dearborn Street Station." Streetcar wires and a small ghost pedestrian not entirely banished by the retoucher's hand. View full size. Those RoofsThose sloped roofs got me busted cheating in architecture school. During my first year we had a sketch class and one of our assignments was to sketch this station. It was a particularly cold December morning so I bought a postcard of the station at a bookstore and sketched it from that. Unfortunately the postcard showed the station with the pre-fire sloped roofs, a distinction my professor was all too quick to point out. Top lopI'm sorry they lopped off the top of the tower. It was weird looking but interesting. It looked like there must have been little rooms up there. I wonder what was in them. Boxes with handles?Does anyone know what the boxes with handles located next to the curbs were for? [They're for getting into a carriage. Called mounting blocks when they're made of stone. - Dave] Somebody step upAnd identify that automobile. Make that one to beam up, Mr. ScottThat is just about the most hamfisted "retouching" work I have ever seen. It looks like someone from Starfleet is either transporting back to the Enterprise, or is about to materialize in Taft era Illinois. [Our image comes directly from the negative. Once it was printed, the results were probably more convincing. - Dave] Dearborn Station todayThanks for this great picture. This wonderful building is still standing and has been made into shops in the center of the Printer's Row area of Chicago. We were there this summer for the Printer's Row Book Fair. [They lopped off the top! And painted it orange! - Dave] How many [fill in here] does it take to change?That's one helluva a light bulb on that street pole. [What looks like a bulb is the glass globe covering the electrodes of a carbon arc lamp. - Dave] Parmelee SystemThe trolley was part of the conglomerate founded by Frank Parmelee in 1853. The company held franchises in many cities. I remember taxicabs in NYC in the 1940s & 50s that bore the legend "Parmelee System." In the 1930s his company was absorbed into the Checker Cab company and was around into the 1980s. Another interesting acquisition was the Yellow Cab Co., created by John Hertz, he of car rental fame. We'll discuss the Gold Dust Twins another time. Before the operationThat's an extraordinary tower. What a shame that it's since been - I'm afraid no other word will do - circumcised. You have to be kidding!They might have lopped the top off the building because they couldn't find a roofer to bid on retiling that wonderful but scary steep structure. The Station Got ScalpedThe "cuckoo clock" roof of the tower, and all the other pitched roofs on the building, were removed after a 1922 fire. The train shed in the back was demolished in 1976. Fortunately the rest of the station is intact. I remember going there with my father in 1969, when the station was still in operation, to see the the Flying Scotsman, the famous British steam locomotive. It was making a nationwide tour that year on this side of the pond. I got to blow the whistle! My company visits this building daily. I've loved this place since we've been visiting on a daily basis. Great pic, as always! Depot HackThe Parmelee vehicle is a depot hack or omnibus, not a trolley car. My beholding eyesI dunno, it looks like it got blotto at a party and stuck a lampshade on its head. TransposedThose steep roofs, especially the lamented steeple roof, look like the roofs you might see in Geneva or Bern, Switzerland. It is a shame they lopped off the steeple roof. Probably a cost or structural issue. [It was a fire issue. See below. - Dave] Adam's RibsWhere is the rib joint? Hawkeye ordered ribs from Adam's Ribs from Korea. It was across the street from the Dearborn Street Station. He forgot the coleslaw, though... He sidles up to the podium, clears his throat--I'll guess it's a 1910 Hudson, based on the firewall and windshield shapes, 3/4-elliptic springs, contracting brakes, radiator shape and steering-wheel controls. I know there were oodles of other makes that probably shared some of these features, so I'm prepared and eager to be corrected! A clean exteriorHard to imagine such an important public building owned by private companies not adorned with the name of the structure and who the tenants are. This was the very important East end of the Santa Fe as well as the Chicago terminal for the Chicago & Eastern Illinois, Monon, Erie, Grand Trunk and others over the years. We lost one ofthe "Gold Dust Twins" on that sign at the right of the frame. Adam's Ribs, anyone?I am surprised that no one mentioned the episode of M*A*S*H in which the Dearborn Street Station featured. Tired of having eaten a "river or liver and an ocean fish,"* Hawkeye had a hankering for BBQ from Adam's Ribs, which was "across the street" from the station. * "I've eaten a river of liver and an ocean of fish! I've eaten so much fish, I'm ready to grow gills! I've eaten so much liver, I can only make love if I'm smothered in bacon and onions!" AddressWhat is the physical address of this place? I visit Chicago often and would like to go there in person. [Click here. - Dave] Thar She GoesThe fateful day the roofs were lost. Sad. He sidles up to the podium, clears his throat--Well done, Watchwayne! I agree with you it must be a Hudson. At first I thought Overland then perhaps Mercer and even Buick because all have similar radiator shapes, but none of them have those distinctive rear springs, but I knew that I had seen them before. Congratulations! Hello, DaveJust to tell you how much I enjoy old photos like this of Dearborn Station. I am deeply appreciative of your time and talent. I especially like the scarcasm, as long as it's not directed at me. [Scarcasm -- so hurtful. Disfiguring, even. - Dave] That Beautiful Car Seems to be a 1911 Warren-Detroit. http://forums.aaca.org/f170/mystery-car-291988.html +107Below is the same view from June of 2017. (The Gallery, Chicago, DPC, Railroads)
Navy Cooks: 1897
... or are you just glad to see me? Soap classic The "Gold Dust Twins" is cool. Always heard about this stuff from my Grandmother. ... 
 
Posted by Dave - 08/13/2012 - 10:03pm -

Circa 1897. "Berth deck cooks, U.S.S. Oregon." 8x10 inch dry plate glass negative by Edward H. Hart, Detroit Publishing Company. View full size. Eagle, Globe and AnchorAnd there's a Marine among them (perched on the ladder). A pocketknifehttp://www.spanamwar.com/Americanuniformlanyard.htm Lanyards were issued to all crewmen along with a single-bladed navy pocketknife, which was generally attached to the end of the lanyard. The other end of the lanyard went around the sailor's next, and could be drawn tight by pulling a "turk's head" knot as tight to the neck as was comfortable. By attaching the knife to the lanyard, the chance of dropping the knife overboard or losing it in some other manner was greatly reduced. One of the few navymen who did not attach a knife to their lanyard was the boatswain or "bo'sun" who would attach his "pipe" to it. The pipe was a high-pitched whistle-like instrument which was used to issue certain orders. The lanyard was approximately one yard in length (doubled, and therefore was made from about two yards of material) and made of a white cloth tape. The rest of the boatI can see the mast of the USS Oregon from my office. It's a memorial in the Waterfront Park in Portland. I've often wondered about the ship, so these photos from her are very gratifying. Where's a Bos'n when you need him?Ahoy mates, that's a pretty scurvy looking deck. And sticking a blade into the teak! All I can say is that the Oregon must have been a pretty loose ship. In my Navy days, a ship with a teak deck was kept "Bristol" -- that's squeaky clean to you landlubbers. Holystone, seawater and sand every day. And if you had so much as a nail in your shoe, the Chief Bos'n would have your hide. Holding the cigIs that a cannoli tube or are you just glad to see me? Soap classicThe "Gold Dust Twins" is cool. Always heard about this stuff from my Grandmother. She is about the same age as these guys. Now I get to see it. I can take that off the list. Thanks Shorpy. What's on the end of those lanyards?Besides the scarves (ties?), most of these guys are wearing a lanyard around their necks that ends in their left breast pocket. What's attached? Fate of the OregonIn a burst of patriotic enthusiasm, the Oregon was partially scrapped at the begining of WWII, for the steel. The hull was used as a barge during the war, and eventually scrapped in the 50's. Display your toolsNo doubt the gunner's mates had just taken their group picture in front of a stack of shells, and the galley crew felt compelled to display their weapons. Tough cutsI'd say there were few complaints about the food, but we haven't seen the rest of the crew yet. Take a PowderBaking or washing? Make sure you get the right one for the job! Surprised No One Has Mentioned ItGuy with the cigarette: what the heck's with the paper heart cutout on his shirt? [It's a handkerchief sticking out of his pocket. - Dave] Navy cookingAnother interesting photo. Every man in the group displays the rate of Seaman Third Class (one stripe on the cuff) except of course the Marine and those who have their cuffs turned up. Not one has the rating badge of a Petty Officer on his upper arm. Wonder who was in charge? That probably meant that cooking chores for enlisted men were turned over to the lowest rated and newest men. Officers of course had cooks and stewards to handle their food needs. Enlisted men didn't fare so well. The rating of Commissary Steward (enlisted cooks) didn't appear until about 1905. (The Gallery, Boats & Bridges, DPC, E.H. Hart)
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