“Ole” she said, “I want you to learn to be a tailor. You have skinny wrists. You won’t cut it as a farmer”.
Being smaller than his peers must have been something that he had dealt with for all of his short life and to have his Mom confirm what he had struggled to deny was a harsh toke. Then, the next thing he knew was that she had swung a deal with a tailor who lived in the next town and so off he went to serve an apprenticeship. After 3 ½ years he and his skinny wrists came away with a paying profession that he actually liked and excelled at. It turned out that Mother knew best.
He saved his money and at age 20 immigrated to the US where he arrived in New York City, boarded a train and headed west. Everywhere he went, though, tailors were not in demand so he picked up whatever work was available. Carpentry, cooking, waiting tables, whatever and after a few months he arrived in Seattle. Nobody was hiring tailors in the Emerald City so he traveled up and down the coast, California to Vancouver, BC picking up piecework sewing and other odd jobs. Vancouver panned out for him and he was able to get steady work sewing. At age 27 he was back in Seattle and opened his own shop where he sold his first suit for $29.
The last Wednesday of each month was his night to play cards
at the Danish Brotherhood and one Wednesday he was playing with the VP of
Washington Mutual Bank who asked him to make a blue serge suit for his
wife. The suit was a hit and soon the
banker’s wealthy friends and their wives were among his clientele.
Looking to expand and upscale his business he bought a lot at 2805 E. Madison Street in Madison Valley. The property was long and narrow with a house towards the middle of the lot.
It had a nice front yard facing Madison Street and a large-ish back yard on E. Arthur Pl. In 1925 he had the house picked up, turned 180 degrees and set on E Arthur Pl. On the Madison Street side, he had a storefront built to house his new tailor shop and a tenant who ran a barbershop. He operated at his Madison Street shop from 1925 until he retired in 1967. He passed away in 1986 at the ripe age of 99.
The house that he had picked up and turned around still stands at 2832 E Arthur Pl. It is the home of “The Music Factory”, a music school that employs professional musicians who work with students of all levels in guitar, piano and voice.
The storefront that he rented out and where
he proudly displayed his own sign is a french restaurant called “Voila! Bistrot”.
You may have eaten there. I think he would approve.
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