Iconic West Coast Saloons & Their Owners

Foreword:  In writing about the whiskey men who operated saloons, I have particularly struck by three such West Coast drinking institutions.  For different reasons two not only reached iconic status in retrospect, but were well recognized in their own time for having notable qualities.  The third is still operating, recognized for its longevity and the man whose name it bears.  

Nautically named, for more than 55 years the Ensign Saloon was a favorite watering hole for seafaring populations along San Francisco’s waterfront.  While the proprietors probably knew, few patrons likely were aware that the Ensign, on the ground floor of one of city’s then taller buildings, sat on top of a ship, the schooner Rome, shown here, sunk deliberately in 1890 by a developer who urgently needed to claim title on an underwater lot at the wharf at what would become the southwest corner of Market Street and the Embarcadero.

  

Over the next few years the wharf area gradually was filled in and the Rome disappeared underground.  A 1895 drawing of the dock area above shows the extent of the fill area on which a number of structures had been built, including the ferry dock and the Southern Pacific Railroad station.  The Ensign Saloon looms large on the landscape as the ground floor of a three story building. It became the favored hangout for the seafaring crowd.

During its history the Ensign Saloon knew multiple owners.  The first proprietors were George and Charles Osmer, German immigrants who ran it from about 1860 to 1869.  They sold to Claus Schwartz, Rathy Husing and Alfred Meyer who operated it for the next 40 years, rebuilding the saloon when it was destroyed in the 1906 San Francisco earthquake and fire.  About 1910, the Ensign Saloon was sold for a third time to M. Theodore Reinke.  Like previous owners an immigrant from Germany, Reinke was forced to shut the Ensign down with the advent of National Prohibition. 

But the story does not end there.  Although the Ensign Saloon had sat on top of a sunken ship for decades, when the building was torn down and the site subsequently turned into a civic plaza, San Francisco forgot the vessel was down there.  In 1994, however, while the city was excavating a subway tunnel from the Embarcadero Station to Folsom Street, construction crews ran smack dab into the Rome, where it had laid undisturbed for 144 years.  It was too large to be excavated so the tunnel was bored right through the ship, as shown on the illustration here.  Remnants of the Rome are now in a local museum. 

Today in the San Pedro district of Los Angeles a central open space, shown below, is designated Pepper Tree Plaza.  A metal plaque on a water fountain  marks the  former site of the Pepper Tree Saloon, a sometimes rowdy drinking establishment whose history paralleled that of the community.  The waterfront saloon flourished under the aegis of three California proprietors.

Gustave Falk was the founder.  Born in Sweden in 1840, reputedly of German ancestry, he early went to sea and over time advanced to captain. Visiting San Pedro with his ship periodically, Falk could see the potential for growth and in 1890 settled there permanently.  He bought property at the corner of Sixth and Front Streets and constructed a block of buildings that included the Pepper Tree Saloon. An 1893 map of the San Pedro showed the area and in a detail below, the site of the saloon. 

Although one author cited the Pepper Tree as “infamous,” it was teeming at all hours with sailors and dock workers and appears to have had a good reputation with ships captains looking to recruit reliable seamen for their vessels and for wharf bosses seeking stevedores.  About 1900 Falk sold it to John Goudie, a Scotsman, who in 1915 sold it to another Scot, Caspar McKelvy.  He ran it until closed by National Prohibition.

The Pepper Tree Saloon remained in the lore of San Pedro which was originally a city in its own right, but subsequently annexed by Los Angeles.   In 1988 — 100 years to the day the town incorporated — a group of longtime residents re-enacted the signing of San Pedro’s incorporation papers in a replica of the Pepper Tree Saloon.  By that time the building itself had been torn down and in its place a community park was created, appropriately named Pepper Tree Plaza.

Unlike the prior two saloons, Kelly’s Olympian of Portland, Oregon, shown above, is still operating.  Local news media regularly feature the drinking establishment because of its more than one hundred years in existence.  The saloon owes its continuity to John Kelly who opened his first Portland “watering hole” in 1888 at the age of 23 and went on to become one of the city’s best known publicans.

The Olympian opened in 1902 as a saloon “tied” to the newly founded Olympia Brewing Company, a practice common in pre-Prohibition days.  According to one account:  “It is truly a colorful part of Portland’s history.  In the early days it was a popular gathering spot for locals as well as visiting timber men, sailors, shipyard workers, longshoremen and others passing through.”  

In 1916, however, both Olympia Brewery and the Olympian were forced to shut down by state prohibitionary laws.  Eager to unload the property, the owners were happy to sell it to Kelly.  He incorporated, naming himself as president.   The Olympian Company, as it was now designated, advertised cigars and tobacco, soft drinks and restaurant food.  Before long, the name was altered to Kelly’s Olympian.

Evidence is, however, that Kelly was not finished selling booze.  The Olympian sits above the Old Portland Underground, better known locally as the “Shanghai Tunnels,” a complex of passages that connected the basements of saloons and hotels to the waterfront.   One tunnel had an opening into Kelly’s basement. A section of that space has been discovered to contain a wall and remnants of an old tile floor, strongly suspected as the remains of a subterranean speakeasy that Kelly operated under the Olympian during “dry” times.  He died in 1925 without ever seeing Repeal and the revival of his saloon — or revealing his secret.

More than a century after Kelly owned the saloon, the establishment still bears his name, offering whiskey and other liquor as he did before, and likely during, Prohibition.  This iconic West Coast saloon that can still be visited.  If you go, be sure to lift a glass to John Kelly, a whiskey man worth remembering. 

Note:  More complete articles on each of these saloons may be found on this blog at the following dates:  Ensign Saloon, August 22, 2019;  Pepper Tree Saloon, November 25, 2018; and John Kelly Saloon, March 18, 2018. 

John Kelly and His Iconic Portland Bar

Kelly’s Olympian, the Portland, Oregon, bar shown above, regularly is featured in local media that trumpet its more than a century in existence.   Nothing, however, is revealed about John E. Kelly, the man who gave his name to the establishment during a lengthy career running Portland saloons and selling whiskey.  This vignette is aimed at remedying that omission by telling Kelly’s story.

John Kelly was born in New York in December of 1865 of immigrant Irish parentage.  While in his late teens, he migrated to Portland, Oregon, possibly because of promised employment with relatives running saloons in the city.  He first surfaced in Portland business directories in 1888, at the age of 23 as the co-owner of a saloon located at 147 1/2 Third Street.  His partner was a fellow Irishman, James R. Foley.

By this time Kelly was married and had started a family.  At the age of 21 in 1886 he wed a young woman named Mary Emma, born in Washington State, the daughter of parents originally from the Midwest.  A year later they had an infant son, Francis, called “Frank.”  The 1890 census found the family living in Portland’s Fourth Ward.

Kelly’s partnership with Foley was relatively short-lived.  By 1891, Foley had departed and Kelly had renamed his Third Street drinking establishment the “Elite Saloon.”  About 1900 he had relocated his drinking establishment to 341 Morrison Street and had taken a new partner, a former bartender named D. John Caswell.  Caswell & Kelly became a popular Portland watering hole but by 1909 Kelly had decided that selling liquor as package goods was more lucrative than just by the drink over the bar.

In 1909, without Caswell, he moved down the street to 354 Morrison Street and opened “The Family Liquor Store.”  The establishment also included a bar.  One of his first hires was a Matthew Kelly, a relative and bartender.  Several years later his son, Frank, was hired, initially working as a clerk.  The proprietor issued etched shot glasses, given to favored customers.

Meanwhile, at 127 Sixth Street, another liquor purveyor named Morris Nelson was running The Lotus Buffet and Billiard Parlor, a step up from the usual Portland saloon as indicated by its exterior and internal bar, both shown here. Nelson became known for his giveaway items, that included ceramic “nip” bottles in the shape of an elk’s tooth that celebrating the Benevolent & Protective Order of Elks fraternity.  He also offered carnival glass pin trays, as well as less costly items like matches and bar tokens, shown here.

Whether it was Nelson’s generosity or the advent of a statewide ban on making or selling alcohol, the Lotus was thrust into bankruptcy with the Scandinavian Bank of Portland as the principal debt holder.  Having been forced to shut down his Family Liquor Store as a result of Oregon’s ban on alcohol sales, Kelly saw an opportunity.  Working with the bank he became the manager of the Lotus.  Both Matthew and Frank were employed there.  Although he could not sell booze at the Lotus, Kelly apparently found he liked the restaurant business.  When an opportunity came to own one himself, he took it.

The Olympian had been founded in 1902 as a saloon “tied” to the newly founded Olympia Brewing Company, a practice common in pre-Prohibition days.  The only brews served there were Olympia beers.  Hired by the brewery to manage the establishment was Albert H. Greenberg who made a success of the saloon. It has been described this way:  “It is truly a colorful part of Portland’s history.  In the early days it was a popular gathering spot for locals as well as visiting timber men, sailors, shipyard workers, longshoremen and others passing through.”

In 1916, however, both Olympia Brewery and the Olympian were forced to shut down by the state law.  Anxious to unload the property, the owners were happy to sell it to Kelly.  He incorporated, naming himself as president.  Matthew became vice-president and Frank, secretary-treasurer.   The Olympian Company, as it was now designated, advertised its cigars and tobacco, soft drinks and restaurant food.  Before long, the name was altered to Kelly’s Olympian.

Some speculate that Kelly was not just purveying soft drinks.  The Olympian sits above the Old Portland Underground, better known locally as the “Shanghai Tunnels,” a complex of passages that connected the basements of saloons and hotels to the waterfront.   One tunnel is said to have had an outlet in Kelly’s basement.  More recently it has been discovered that one section of that basement contains a peculiar patching of a wall and remnants of an old tile floor, possibly the remains of a speakasy that existed during the “dry” years.”

Was John Kelly involved?  Both his moves to the Lotus and then to the Olympian suggest to me that he had not given up the liquor trade just because it had been outlawed by Oregon lawmakers.  Having spent much of his life purveying alcolhol, Kelly — I believe — likely had something in mind outside the law.  The answer is unknown as Kelly went to his grave in 1925, age seventy, without an arrest or public confession.  He was buried in Section A, Lot 61, Space 2 of Portland’s Calvary Cemetery.  His wife, Mary Emma, later would join him in Space 1.  His grave is shown above.

About a century after Kelly owned and re-named the saloon, the establishment is still extant, offering whiskey and other liquor as he might have, reckoned the third oldest watering hole in Portland.  Shown above, the place definitely is worth a visit when in the city.  If you go, be sure to lift a glass to John Kelly, a whiskey man worth remembering.