It’s one of the most significant buildings in Eastlake, yet it is easily overlooked, lost amidst the newer, larger buildings surrounding it.

But I remember riding in the car as a kid with my parents and wondering if one of the many bridges we always seemed to be crossing over would be the one with the castle at the end of it, hoping it was. And sometimes the building would appear like something out of a fairy tale. I strained to get a good look at it as we sped by. I always wondered about the stories behind it.

Turns out there are a lot of them. The building at the south end of the University Bridge, at the corner of Eastlake Ave. and Furhman St., has stories to tell of bankruptcy, illegal activity, a mysterious death, rock ‘n roll legends and those are just the things that made it into the local newspapers.

It’s been known by the businesses that occupy the ground floor: Rapunzel’s Tavern, Scoundrel’s Lair, Romio’s, Borsalino’s and now Sebi’s. It’s never had a common name. The condos above it are known as the Martello.

But the real story behind this building is the man who built it or rather remodeled what was, in 1928, a single-family house. Frederick Anhalt was a self-educated developer and architect. He died in 1996 at the age of 101, but the legacy of his buildings known as Seattle castles endures.

Anhalt had several careers over the course of his life from butcher to landscape nursery owner. His development career grew out of a stint in commercial real estate and started with a crew building bungalow court apartments on Beacon Hill and Queen Anne. A pivotal point was a two-story apartment at 17th and Denny built in the Spanish style that was popular at the time. With each building he kept learning new things, but he wanted to make his mark and design something suitable for the Pacific Northwest climate; he settled on bricks and natural cedar roof shingles for materials. The castle-like design he came upon serendipitously.

“I started looking around for ideas as to the style I would use,” Anhalt said in an interview about his life, for the book, Built by Anhalt. “While I was doing this, I met a young girl who was selling books and I asked her to find any books she could on beautiful apartments.  She came back several days later and told me that she couldn’t find anything like that, all she had was a book about English castles.  Well, I took one look at that book and I knew I’d found my style of building.  I went through that book and picked a window I liked here, a door there, and something else over there.”

His goal was to build apartment buildings that were different from what was on the market at the time. “I wanted to get away from the long halls that reminded me of tenement buildings,” he said, where everything looked the same, “and the only way you knew what apartment was yours was by the furniture.”

He thought people should have a nice view to look onto too but knew he couldn’t guarantee it. “Somebody else could always put another building between you and your view.” So, he built his apartments around a view that he created with landscaping. “I could make things look the way I wanted them to that way, which is hard to do when you’re dealing with a view of Mount Rainier or Puget Sound.”

The building in Eastlake (the only Anhalt around Lake Union) is a bit of an anomaly, not brick but stucco-clad and with no courtyard. It was the result of another building’s mishap on Capitol Hill, but it marks one of the many turning points in Anhalt’s career.

Anhalt was ready for a new phase and wanted to build even more beautiful buildings. He took a break from developing to get his thoughts in order and sent his crew out to put up the Del-Teet Furniture store on Broadway. It didn’t require any effort on his part because the plans were already drawn. (The building’s facade is still there today by the way – next to Dick’s; it’s now known as Hollywood Lofts.)

There was such a hurry to open the Del-Teet store that the store manager, a fellow by the name of Skewes, moved the furniture in as soon as the plasterers left. “And that got me another job,” Anhalt said.

“In all the humidity of that wet plaster, everything mildewed. Skewes was fired and decided to open his own store in an old house he’d found down by the University Bridge. I must have felt a little responsible for his problem, because I agreed to remodel it for him, which wasn’t something I would usually do.  It’s a lot easier to build a new building than to remodel an old one. Especially one that’s fifty years old like that one was. I must have done a good job on it though, because it’s still there today.”

 

The building is still there, fortunately for Eastlake, but the furniture store, Skewes-Rudolph Furniture Cor., Inc, went through a long bankruptcy in the early 1930’s if the liquidations ads of the time are any indication.

Anhalt went on to build his most famous apartment buildings after that. First the 750 and 730 Belmont structures that Lawrence Kreisman highlighted in a March 2000 article for the Seattle Times. “These ‘apartment-homes’ were charming and romantic, with individualized floor plans, up-to-date amenities such as parking garages and gracious, home-like touches – separate entrances off semi-private landscaped courtyards – that brought in the renters.”

730 Belmont

 

750 Belmont

Anhalt liked the 730 Belmont so well he built out one unit for himself. But his favorite building, the one that marks the pinnacle of his castles is the one built after, at 1005 Roy St.

That building and the one across the street that went right up with it, the 1014 Roy, were built with largely free and discarded brick seconds.

Anhalt likely would be considered a green developer today for creatively reusing and making do. “I always had my eyes open for things that nobody else had a use for, figuring that if something was cheap enough I’d find a use for it.”

One of the places where he bought bricks occasionally overcooked a batch and dumped it on a vacant lot. By the time Anhalt took note, the pile covered about four acres. The company offered them to him for the price of delivery, thinking Anhalt could use them in his landscaping.

“The only thing wrong with those bricks was they didn’t look like regular bricks. They were different colors and a little melted in spots, but most of them had enough flat that they could be used. I even had the bricklayers put them in a little cockeyed, to add to the effect,” said Anhalt.

“Ten-O-Five East Roy was built that way, and in my opinion it’s the finest apartment building ever built in the city of Seattle,” he added.

1005 Roy St.

1005 Roy St. seen from the west

The Anhalt on the corner of Eastlake Ave. and Furhman St. has a lively history.

According to news reports in the Seattle Times about the building, a man was arrested for having a slot machine there in 1935, “charged with having gambling paraphernalia and released on $40 bail.” In 1936 “a well-known restaurant” called The Town House made the news due to a change in lease. In the 1940’s floor lamps were offered for sale in the display room. In 1966, almost as a testament to the times, a tenant, Raymond Paul McCarthy, 26, was charged with 2nd degree burglary for robbing a pharmacy and taking “a variety of drugs.” He had the misfortune of being seen by police as he was running away.

Beginning in July 1967, it was occupied by Llahnguelhyn, a coffee and live jazz joint.

The Short Galleries opened there in October 1969 (when phone numbers were still letters as in EA3-9830, the gallery’s number) with an exhibition of seven Northwest artists. John Voorhees the art critic for The Seattle Times gave the gallery many glowing reviews over the following years.

Then in 1975 it became Rapunzel’s Tavern. A year later a fire broke out in its upper floors; the tavern was untouched, but news of the fire made the front page of The Seattle Times when an unidentified woman’s body was found in the gables.

In 1986 it became Scoundrel’s Lair and thanks to its proximity to the U.W. was one of the focal points of Seattle’s emerging “grunge” scene. Shedding some light on the time, in a series of columns called Schoolhouse Rock for the U.W. alumni magazine in 1996, Charles R. Cross former editor of The Rocket, noted how much things had changed in ten years, “With so many successful bands in the Northwest in the past decade, more aspiring rockers think of music as an actual career. A decade ago, most of the Seattle scene bands all started off thinking they were going to have day jobs instead of music careers–and education at universities played a role in that. Today, when superstardom seems ordinary, fewer bands in the area seem to have ties to the University because many young musicians expect (sometimes wrongly) that they will be able to make a living from playing music….”

“But as time marches on, the history books remind us of a time when you could see Nirvana at the HUB for a buck, when Soundgarden was playing just up the street at the Rainbow Tavern, and when KCMU was the only station worth punching in on your car radio. It was an era of innocence when the measure of success was determined by playing a show at the Scoundrel’s Lair (now a pizza place, across from the Red Robin on Eastlake, and a longtime UW hangout) to 20 of your friends and fellow students.”

Time marches on, and our old structures provide a window to the past.

Perhaps the residents living in the Martello, who are lucky enough to own a piece of this Seattle history, will consider nominating it for historic preservation, to ensure that future generations can enjoy spotting it as they go by wondering about its story.

 

 

 

If you have further information about the Anhalt in Eastlake or elsewhere, we’d love to hear from you. Write to us at editors@lakeunionwatershed.com.

 

Sketch by Karen Berry.

 

This story was revised from one that first appeared in the Eastlake News fall 2012 issue.