We had to get a relatively early start today to Oregon. We’ll be staying in Portland for three days with my sister, and then we’ll be heading to Ashland, our last stop on this trip, for a couple days of theater. But before we left, John wanted to explore this historic hotel some more. We learned that the Davenport Hotel had been initially constructed in 1906 by a successful restaurateur named Louis Davenport. It cost well over 2 million dollars to build, an astronomical sum for those times. It was also tremendously successful, and it was the place to stay for any famous person who happened to be passing through Spokane. Alas, as the downtown faded in the 1950’s and 1960’s, so did the hotel. By the early seventies it had filed for bankruptcy; in the mid eighties plans were being made to demolish it. In 1994, Walt and Karen Worthy, local developers, bought it for little more than the construction cost ninety years earlier, and started the renovations.
Essentially they gutted the old building, saving all the historically significant items for reinstallation, and created a new hotel in the shell of the old. The lobby, shown below, was dismantled and then reinstalled.
The same was true for its most famous ballroom, the “Palace of the Doges.”
Bing Crosby is probably the most famous son of Spokane, and there are a number of places including a local theater named for him. The Davenport has an entire display case of Crosby memorabilia including his famous pipe.
After leaving Spokane, we drove south along US 395 and I 84 headed to Portland. Like most people, when I think of the Pacific Northwest, images of cedars and hemlocks dripping with moisture come to my mind. Yet half of the states of Washington and Oregon are arid, and many sections of both actually have rainfall so slight that they can be considered deserts. Not many people live out in the eastern counties, though there is substantial agriculture using irrigation. We passed through these parts of those states without stopping. Highway 84 follows the route of the Columbia River as that great waterway passes through the Oregon steppe. As you reach The Dalles, however, more trees begin to appear. After Hood River, where the highway gives a stunning view of the glacier-laden volcano, savanna gives way to coniferous forest. Suddenly you find yourself in the wet, lush northwest of common imagination.
Ellen and Mike, my sister and brother-in-law, had suggested we meet them in Corbett, just east of Portland, where a friend of theirs was having a party at his sister-in-law’s house. This seemed a bit like crashing to us, but they assured us that it was the kind of event where everybody was welcome to show up. And indeed it proved to be that.
Ellen and Mike were in a festive, summer party mood.
The four sisters who were sponsoring this party are all musicians, and there were live band performances using the garage as a stage. There was also a karaoke machine on the lawn. John was quite a hit as he did What’d I Say, the Ray Charles R & B hit from the late 1950’s.
There were lots of dogs around, and Eli was a perfect party guest. Edie was a bit more problematic. As we arrived a neighbor rode up on her horse. Edie is absolutely obsessed with horses, and it is not safe to let her off-leash anywhere around one. But on-leash, with all of the other dogs off-leash, she was a problem, too. So she spent a good portion of the time in the car. When we were pretty sure she had probably let the equine recollection lapse, we let her off and she was dutifully admired and petted. As the party was disbanding, one of the younger members in attendance, the son, I suppose, of one of the four women, tried to shoot a few baskets. He did not anticipate, however, that Eli would try to join him playing ball. It was pretty funny.
On the way to Portland, we stopped to take in a picture of of the Columbia Gorge.
