King & Daul Tire Co. circa 1951
Whenever the path of progress leads you back in time, the rabbit hole awaits. Like when renovations to an old building reveal an earlier incarnation, maybe a classic structure hidden under layers of modern facade. This sort of reverse transformation is currently taking place in my hometown of Bellingham, Wash., where King & Daul Tire Co. once anchored the corner of State Street and Chestnut. The building that is re-emerging was built in the 1920s, altered in the 1930s, and is now entering its second century. Over the years, the evolution of this building has been well documented, and can serve as a timeline for 50 years in the tire business. As such, its longest affiliation seems to have been with Mobilgas, available “at the sign of the flying red horse.”
A slightly different view from the same day, with the Windsor Hotel to the left.
At first glance it’s an interesting building, but something seems “off” with the roofline. Why isn’t that raised finial centered on the wall facing State Street? Well, it’s complicated, but here’s what I’ve learned. In 1922, when Vaughn Brown erected the building for the sheet metal firm J.M. Laube & Son, there was already another building immediately to its right. Originally this resulted in a rectangular footprint for the Laube building, with four sharp corners and the finial in the center. It was only after the adjacent Slade Block was demolished that Fred Laube could “bevel” the southern edge and build his Super Service station, on the true corner of State Street and Chestnut. Officially, that is 1210 N. State St.
They paved paradise, put up a parking lot.
The Slade Block was built in 1890 and featured a design element called the “chamfered corner.” This design was thought to be more welcoming for customers, and more amenable to signage. You can see this (above) on the panel that reads: “National Bank.” Did this original “cut corner” influence Fred Laube’s plans for his Super Service? I think so. The old Slade Block would eventually give way to a parking lot with gas pumps.
From The Bellingham Herald, June 29, 1935.
Though this prized corner lot has been most closely identified with King & Daul, it was originally developed by the Laube family. When Laube Super Service opened in 1935, it was “the realization of a dream” for executive Fred Laube. Fred was the “son” in J.M. Laube & Son, a sheet metal firm that also sold car batteries and Willard gasoline on the side. When fully realized, Laube Super Service dealt in General Gas and Oils, U.S. Tires, and Delco Products. This venture lasted about a decade before they sold off their interests.
Ekdahl and Seppala are in suits to the left. The man second from the gas pumps has a cigarette.
Vern Ekdahl and Walter Seppala started running the service station in May 1945, offering Quaker State Oil and Mobilgas products. It being wartime, the partners stated that “service and repair facilities have been needed in Bellingham and our establishment will ease the strain a little. After all, our job is to help cars keep rolling, and the task isn’t easy since old cars are getting much older and replacements are still a long way off.” Nevertheless, it appears this ownership group only lasted three or four years.
This time, it’s Seppala holding a cigar near the gas pumps.
In this shot, it appears some of the guys bustin’ tires were also wearing ties. Also, notice how Ekdahl and Seppala have removed their fedora hats and stacked them next to the gas pump. This was another time, before coveralls and jumpsuits.
Seppala receiving a delivery from the Linde Air Products Co. What, no Tommy Gate?
In the early 1950s, oxy-acetylene welding was an emerging technology in the automotive industry. These tanks were probably headed to E&S’s welding supply store to the north, under the sign for OXYGEN. This business apparently outlived their interests in the service station, for which there is no listing in the 1950 phone book. Can’t say for sure whether that’s Ekdahl in the bed of the truck, but the hat and glasses look right. Goodbye for now to the Swede and the Finn.
King & Daul took over in the ’50s and remained for decades. Now down to two gas pumps.
My 1950 phone book listed “Nau’s Royal Automotive Service” at 1210 State Street, still the dealer for U.S. Royal Tires. This means King & Daul must have started there between ’51 and ’53. The shot above shows their ongoing affiliation with USRT, and with Mobilgas. At this point Vaughn Brown’s finial is still standing watch over State Street traffic.
A winter shot with “Holiday Greetings” painted in the window, and a ’58 T-Bird in the lot.
By the late ’60s, King & Daul had become an institution on State Street. Royal Tires had given way to Goodyear, and Mobilgas was now simply Mobil. The off-center finial was removed to make room for more corporate signage. Two-way streets were still in operation, as can be seen by the Chevy at right. This is also the only good view of the Laube Hotel, which looms over the white panel van at left. Originally built by Fred Laube’s uncle Charles in 1904, this building became an incredible venue for live music. Starting in the ’70s there was Pete’s Tavern, Buck’s Tavern, and the 3B, just to name a few.
Two nice Chevys heading south and a Porsche 356 hiding behind the single remaining gas pump.
This shot from 1972 is how I remember King & Daul Tire; it was right on the way to Grandma’s house. For signage, it looks as though the Goodyear “wingfoot” may have kicked the “M” out of “Mobil” on the chamfered corner. Possibly the head of the flying red horse, too. As the whole block became more run-down and seedy, a bunch of hippie businesses helped revitalize the area. Just beyond Big K Ranch Sandwiches, there was Aardvark Book & Art, as well as Puget Sounds, a record store. I couldn’t find a definitive end date for King & Daul Tire Co., but I think it must have been sometime in the ’90s. A paint store called The Color Pot did business there until recently.
Recent renovations have revealed this signage from the ’50s. Way before there were trees here.
Here are some shots I recycled from an earlier post called “Highs in the Seventies,” but they seem to bring up more questions than answers. Like, how did this earlier 1950s signage survive all the remodels of the ’60s and ’70s?
How did the old signage seep through the white paint? How did “Fleet and Road Service” survive?
The traffic scooter and F-Series pickup might be police issue. Probably not the dump truck.
Survival was not in the cards for a different building, about five blocks away from King & Daul Tire. Captured here in all its Kodachrome glory is a crew demolishing the old Thiel & Welter building in 1969. Eventually the entire city block was leveled to make way for our “Parkade,” which still stands to this day. Thiel & Welter was a sprawling home furnishings store that ran in this location from 1905 to 1953, and was later home to a Discount Records store, a Discount Shoe store, and a Discount Luggage store.
Courtesy of my friend at the Whatcom Museum Photo Archive, to whom I am forever indebted.
I’m glad our old service station didn’t meet a similar fate, and lived to see today. I’m also glad I was able to tack some “bonus material” onto the end of this story. Maybe now we can get the cop from the prior slide to frisk the trench-coat dude standing in the lower right corner. I’m guessing he had some watches for sale.
Looks like a larger, raised sign panels seen in the eighth picture, were put over the earlier lettering, seen in the first two pictures. This also meant the bricks above and below the old signage under the new panels weren’t painted either. All sealed away while the other changes went on.
It is interesting when old signs are uncovered. Good detective work finding so many pictures of the same place.
Wonderful detailed history. The shape of the original Slade building was an automatic icon for banks. When you see a building like this you can be sure it started as a bank.
The cylinder lift is a clever design with a clear purpose. Put the handtruck’s platform under the cylinder, lean back, and it’s on.
Thank you for this great, detailed history! I was intrigued by this building’s restoration in your earlier post, so it’s great to learn its full history here.
One of the interesting things about digging up this history is the realization about just how quickly people consider buildings to become “outdated.” The Slade Block building is a good example. Now, we’d look at that building and are impressed about its architecture and character, and think its a shame that it would be torn down. But in the 1935 article about “Laube Super Service” it’s noted that Laube replaced the “old Slade block.” So in 1935, the 45-year-old building was just considered “old” and probably obsolete. Not unlike the way many 1980s buildings are considered obsolete now.
Also, regarding the old signage survived all the later remodels, it looks like in the 1950s pictures that you found, the wall signage above the windows has a background that protrudes a bit from the brickwork. My guess is that was placed directly atop the brickwork, which also explains why the bricks in that section weren’t painted white. Just a guess.
This kind of photo-sleuthing is right up my alley, so thank you for a job very nicely done. Yeah, U.S. “urban architecture” in the 20th century didn’t much resist the commercial push to update/remodel its facades–when Eric703 pointed out that that’s been typically perhaps 45 years, that doesn’t seem long at all.
It’s *always* interesting when facades are peeled back—and fascinating to see what might survive intact (and legibly).
Here’s an old shop sign that was revealed by alterations local to me back in 1984. The ‘modern’ shopfront from then has gone now and there’s a huge window on the upper level but, for a while, the old Victorian or Edwardian shop sign was visible. Look closer and you can see that the name The “Gem” was painted over an earlier name.
I like when Curbside Classic extrapolates to the car-related structures of our built environment. We know what “barn find” means in terms of rediscovered autos. What is the equivalent catchy term for under-recognized architecture?
Waay cool idea! That full page, newspaper ad is awesome! Big news in “Bellingham”!!
I’ve always wondered what that thing was in the Mobil logo. It’s a flying red horse? OK, if they say so….
Why would they remove gas pumps that were already there? Did the other two break and they didn’t want to spend the money to fix them? Were they just trying to save a bit of space on the lot when they went to a single pump? (maybe, but they went from 3 to 2 pumps by removing the middle pump, which didn’t make the lot any bigger.)
U.S. Royal changed their name to Uniroyal sometime in the late ’60s.
Where I used to live in Silver Spring, MD there is one of those “local institution” tire shops called Radial Tire Co. that seems similar to King & Daul. Small lot and always crowded, but there’s a reason for that – they’re very reputable, have knowledgeable staff, sell almost every brand, and includes road-hazard warranty and free flat repair. I was long wary of that warranty though, because what if this mom-and-pop tire place goes out of business by two years later when I get a flat? I used to think, safer to buy from a big chain store that will still be around when I need the a few years later, like, you know, Sears, or Montgomery Ward. Whoops! They’re all gone now and little indie tire shop is still very much there.
Any idea why this service shop’s history is so well documented? I can’t find anything about my local retail haunts where I grew up. Maybe I’m just looking in the wrong place.
Thanks so much for digging up these old photos. I only know it as the Color Pot with the facade that has been thankfully removed.
The thing that sticks out at me is the Windsor Hotel’s painted sign. I appears that at one point they had covered it over with a wooden sign that deteriorated to the point of being mostly gone by the early 50’s pictures. The strange thing is that it didn’t seem to deteriorate significantly more by the time the early 70’s picture was taken.
I wonder what the upper level looked like on the inside. They did frame in a smaller window that poked through the facade but I wonder if the others weren’t left intact since I assume it was mainly a storage area at that point.
Thanks again for giving us “The Rest of the Story”. Which during my time at Fountain Auto Service, in what had been the Toyota dealership, the older guy always had to take a break to listen to.
What a great article about a city I know .
The bottle lift on the back of a truck gives me pause ~ when I was trained and welding cylinder handling and storage they were adamant that Acetylene cylinders must never, _ever_ be lain down, I hope that’s a green Oxygen cylinder .
-Nate