In Issaquah’s rough-cut formative years, saloons outnumbered hotels and churches. Workers’ hard-earned wages went to whiskey and the town had a reputation. And over time, with increased ordinances, the rise of the temperance movement, and Prohibition taking effect, the town was forced to evolve… but they didn’t give up the “drink.”
Strict Ordinances, Lively Saloons & Prohibition
When the newly formed Gilman Town Council got down to business in 1892, many of their first 70 ordinances involved the control of liquor by setting bond requirements, fees, and fines for selling to minors, drunks, or Native Americans. According to Gilman Town Council Minutes, the first saloonkeep to apply for a liquor license in town was Serofino Battaglio. His neighbors however were not supportive and a number of them petitioned the Council to refuse him a license on the grounds that his establishment was close to the school. In the end, Battaglio was not able to pay the license fee of $300 a year (the 2025 equivalent of about $10,400).
Wanting more limitations on the trade, the Council revamped the whole set of rules in 1897 with an eight-page ordinance that included new and increased fees. But this version still wasn’t enough. And six years later nine more pages were added to the rule book – this time limiting the hours of sale to between 5:00 a.m. and 10:30 p.m. and declaring “the Marshall can be removed from office for failure to report known violators.”
Before Prohibition, saloons were a significant part of Issaquah's social and economic life – they were not just places to drink, they were hubs to gather, share news, and celebrate. But the saloon culture during the early 1900s eventually led to their decline. Aimed at curbing alcohol consumption, the temperance movement gained traction and targeted these establishments. By the end of 1915, Issaquah had transitioned from a town with lively saloons to a "dry" community, reflecting the movement’s broader cultural and social changes towards a more upstanding lifestyle.
A Bar was a Bar was a Bar
One of the banes and joys of Issaquah during this period was its local watering holes, where as many as 10 to 12 saloons were doing business in a town of about 1,000 people – an average of one bar for every 80-100 people. The saloons in town were pretty thick and walking distance was no problem to Issaquah’s drinking man – he could see just about every saloon in town from the corner of Front and Mill (Sunset) Streets.
Cooper’s Roost was the first (NW corner of Front and Mill Streets), later becoming Union Tavern (claiming fame in the 1990s as Washington’s 2nd oldest bar).
Bellevue Hotel Bar sported one of the best brass rail options in Issaquah (SE corner of Front and Mill Streets) and Schmidt’s Saloon and Hotel (a block north on the eastside of Front Street) – both opened around 1888 and 1890, when the railroad and coal mining came to town.
Adair's Saloon (southside of Mill Street)
Eagle Saloon (westside of Front Street)
Rainier Bar (in the Wold Building on Front Street)
Pastimes (past the Wold Building on Front Street) – during Prohibition, Pastimes became Pastime Pool & Billiards and The Palace of Sweets
Klondike Bar (westside of Front Street)
Clark's Place (westside of Front Street)
Also in the neighborhood, were a couple of shorter-lived places on Main Street (now Andrews Street) between the railroad tracks and Hobart Road.
Early saloons didn’t offer the frills and niceties we’ve come to expect today and Issaquah’s seem to have followed suit. A long paneled bar, usually made of oak or mahogany, a foot rail, and a fresh flow trough spittoon running the length of the bar along its base. Decorations varied from place to place, a mounted deer head, at least one sported a picture of a scantily clad woman, and another that featured a large maple limb from the Issaquah “hanging tree” over its bar. To recognize special times of the year, proprietors also decorated their establishments for holidays.
A bar was a bar, and for men only. After a backbreaking day logging or working the mines, many hard working men went drinking, and free-for-alls (aka brawls and the occasional shootout) were an accepted form of recreation… keeping the town jail busy (the very one behind Gilman Town Hall). Neighbors would hear the clanking of the heavy iron doors, sparking curiosity and speculation over the latest tenant. The "scrap iron gang", a name symbolic of their toughness, was usually ready to take on strangers who showed up looking for activity, or the Swedes from Preston, loggers from up the lake, or Renton miners.
Some saloons catered to miners and others to loggers. But respectable women did not enter saloons, a tradition that lasted until World War I. And while women were the primary catalysts behind the prohibition movement, we have evidence of women brewing “drink” for household use, and at least one woman (Elizabeth Laws) was caught running a speakeasy.
From Wet to Drylie
Labor trouble and the declining market for coal in the early 1920's, along with prohibition, darkened all the bars and broke up the scrap iron gang. Although judging from the number of stills uncovered around in the hills, alcoholic activity didn't entirely end there.
Four years prior to the Eighteenth Amendment establishing a national law outlawing the production, transport, and sale of alcohol, the law enforcement and illegal activities associated with Prohibition were already part of the Issaquah landscape. At midnight on December 31, 1915, Washington State went dry – joining 18 other dry states that had outlawed the sale and manufacture of alcohol. Washington’s laws closed saloons and shut down the alcohol industry but allowed individuals to acquire their own alcoholic beverages by obtaining a permit from the county auditor. The permit allowed individuals to import up to two quarts of liquor or twelve quarts of beer during a twenty day period. Auditors issued over eighteen thousand permits in August of 1916, but Washingtonians quickly grew weary of the permit system and looked elsewhere for their spirits.
That “elsewhere” led to a rise in underground activities – including bootlegging and speakeasies – and Issaquah became a bootlegging hotspot. To enforce the prohibition laws, county sheriffs organized special groups of deputies known as dry squads who would zealously pursue the illegal sale and manufacture of liquor. Issaquah’s dry squad leader was the appropriately named Tom Drylie. Drylie was a World War I veteran and owned the Honeysuckle Confectionery, a local ice cream shop and soda fountain. A strict enforcer of the state prohibition laws, Drylie even once ticketed the wife of the town’s marshal for home-brewing dandelion wine.
Drylie along with the local deputies had their hands full and Issaquah’s black market was thriving despite law enforcement efforts. Pouring (pun intended) through accounts in The Issaquah Press and Seattle Daily News, presents an interesting snapshot of activity, but they only scratch the surface:
“Eagle Roost” owner accused – H.A. Hammond, proprietor of the “Eagle Roost,” was accused of selling liquor without a license. (November 25, 1919)
Serak convicted in police court – Joe Serak, proprietor of the Stockholm poolroom, was arrested by Marshall Chalfa and two deputies. Though the search warrant was filed under a different complaint, officers seized sufficient moonshine for a conviction of violating the prohibition law. (March 22, 1922)
Thompson found guilty – O.M. Thompson was charged with breaking into the town jail and taking “evidence” that was to be used against him in a bootlegging case – a barrel of whiskey among other things. (March 2, 1923)
Sheriff’s deputies find tea used to color moonshine – Sheriff Matt Starwich “Found the place where the boys have been getting ‘tea-ed up.” He found a five gallon pan of tea on a stove in the woods and near it, accessories indicating “Scotch whiskey” had been made by mixing the tea with the moonshine. The mixer fled when the deputies arrived. (April 12, 1926)
Gets two sentences, but they run at same time – E.W. Plumb, an Issaquah man, was sentenced to forty days in jail for possession of liquor with intent to sell. His sentence ran concurrently with a 60 sentence on a similar charge previously imposed in Superior Court. (May 8, 1926)
Issaquah justice is arrested by Dries – Five men arrested by federal prohibition agents: Justice of the Peace Robert Hunt, at his home; Charles Clark, arrested in a card room; Albert Reid in a cigar store, and W.O. Groves and Harry Reid at the Stockholm Bar. All were lodged in the city jail and officers confiscated thirteen gallons of moonshine. (November 28, 1926). A subsequent article stated two pool and card rooms at the Stockholm were thoroughly wrecked by the officers, aggregating a loss of over $2,000… including all the stock, fixtures, display cases, bars, backbars, and pool tables. It also noted the fire insurance carried on the fixtures “has been cancelled by the company.” (December 3, 1926)
Issaquah merchant says arrest is “big mistake” – John Holmes, 50-year-old Issaquah storekeeper, was charged with violation of the National Prohibition Act. Protesting vehemently, Mr. Holmes was identified by several prohibition agents as the man they were seeking. (December 7, 1926)
Fire unearths cache of shine – Firefighters were called to the Cubbon home where they found a going business installed, an active still and 50-75 gallons of “shine” ready for consumption over 4th of July. (June 30, 1932)
Issaquah had a reputation for making “tea” – aka moonshine – and in 1926, made news across the nation when Deputy Sheriffs Joe Harrahan and Robert Gibson raided a ranch off the east shore of Lake Sammamish – that just happened to belong to Justice of the Peace Robert Hunt. Judge Hunt and his son were reportedly found manufacturing illicit liquor (aka moonshine), and instead of surrendering quietly, Mrs. Hunt poured a jug of moonshine over Deputy Harrahan. Ambitious entrepreneurs, like Judge Hunt and the anonymous tea brewer, filled the demand – which soon outweighed supply. The price of moonshine had skyrocketed to five dollars a quart by the end of 1916.
Not all news made the newspaper either. Many folks who lived in Issaquah during prohibition have shared their memories in IHM Oral Histories and they paint a colorful picture of how bootlegging intertwined with their lives and also, the town’s livelihood – sometimes naming names and sometimes not!
Floyd Bush: “People who never drank before all of a sudden were drinking because of the publicity.” He claims there were about 40 or 50 stills in the Issaquah hills, and then shared this tidbit, “the biggest stills belonged to the sheriff!”
Dallas Darst: Recalls drinking moonshine at Tommy Halls and Ben Legg buying a keg and putting it in a sack with his groceries on top of it, then on his way home someone called “Who goes there?” and asked to see if he had something in there. After Ben showed him the groceries, the enforcer declared “Well, you ain’t got any moonshine at all.”
Ivan Darst: Claimed he didn’t make any but he knew the location of eight or nine stills, and knew a heck of a lot about mixing grain in a bathtub, the need for quality water, and the process (coils, boiling, filters, the drip drip drip, and the condensing and cooling). Apparently some stills were quite simple – he mentions a friend who condensed his in a tea kettle and made his moonshine in the cellar. Ivan also noted there were many Prohibition agents around.
Bob Evans: Talked about sugar being brought in by cart up on Vaughan’s Hill and big trucks hauling their whiskey over the mountains. He knew the guy that ran that still but “Won’t mention no names because – it’s better that way.”
Lee Roy Helper: Pointing to a house up the street and across the alley from his, exclaimed, “Well, that was a millionaire bootlegger.” He shared a story about [Sheriff Matt] Starwich and his deputy chasing this fellow down and a still up on 15 Creek but getting to it was loaded with briars. He wouldn’t reveal names but did say, “His uncle used to furnish sugar by the ton for these fellows.” and that Starwich had a deputy who would collect hush money from all the places that served liquor. Still refusing to name names, he added the man “lived as a bachelor, and he had lots of good money.” Noting too, “He was probably the best bootlegger there was around town.” Lee Roy ran a garage across the street from Andy Wold’s feed store and also told how Andy would stand on the corner of Front and Mill Streets and someone would come up to him wanting a pint or a quart. Andy would collect the money and tell them where it would be, but he wouldn’t go and get it himself. Prohibition agents finally picked him up and took him to Seattle, but he was back out on the next stage. There were others he spoke of too, but the only name he mentions is “the Frenchman,” who had a reputation of having the finest liquor in the country (and sold it by the gallon or the keg to professors at the University of Washington).
John Hircko: Drove a grocery delivery truck at 14 years old and recalled weekly orders (from regular customers) of flour by the barrel and 100 pounds of sugar – materials for moonshine. He had several deliveries in the hills but one in particular had a gate, two big dogs, and no one was allowed on the grounds until they got the OK. John would dump his load and get on his way, but he knew what was going on. When asked if he knew of any raids, he shared a story about a house near his own having one of the biggest stills around until it blew up one night. He recalled people throwing kegs out the window and getting a couple for himself for hiding someone in his garage. Apparently, nothing happened with the police but the fire department came. John also commented, “It was really easy to get, if you wanted it. They’d sell it to anybody. Most of the younger fellows would watch where they’d hide the stuff and then when they moved, they’d go take it out… I remember selling some pints and I got two dollars for it. Two dollars a pint.”
William Hunt: After not seeing Andy Wold in a while, stopped by to rehash stories and catch up. As his story goes, Andy told him that he bought sugar by the carload (as in train car load) at his seed and feed store – for moonshiners! He said Andy didn’t care what they did with it, he just sold it to them, and made a lot of dough doing it. He remembered it being called “Orange sugar or something,” that “it made good whiskey,” and “all the bootleggers in Seattle bought it here.” Hunt also spoke of the mines shutting down and that many of the Issaquah miners were Slavs, declaring they “...can make the best whiskey out of prunes. Prunes were everywhere and they were good at it. And, you know, all the prune trees still grow wild in Issaquah. They’re all over, down in our valley there. The moonshiners started them!” A Slavic friend told him it was something they did back home in the old country, and by Hunt’s assessment, they were the main bootleggers here. Hunt worked at a print shop on Columbia Street in Seattle, and he too shared a story about the Frenchman.
Dave Arthur Lewis: We found lots of stills when they were hunting, all over the hills. They'd mind their own business and not bother them because they were liable to shoot you if you went on their spot. When asked if the police knew about them, he said, "They minded their own business, too." When asked about nightlife in town and what they did, his answer was "Drink moonshine and fight."
Irene Bosomi Malmassari: She named names, saying there were a lot of bootleggers around making mash, and that “Tom Hall was one of them. Used to sell that whiskey for $20 a gallon or more.”
Viola White Petersen: Sharing her personal history, Viola confessed that when times were hard, her gramma made homebrew… stating, “She was a bootlegger!” She made it clear though, gramma did it only to make money because they were poor. In her recollection, she recalled people coming in the evening and everybody was very happy. They’d even let her have a taste of the foam.
Josephine Cornick Ross: Didn’t offer up too much, but confirmed there were bootleggers in the hills and stated that her family didn’t drink much. When it came to specifics, she left it at, “I could name a couple of people that were in that business but it’s not fair to them because that’s a thing of the past.”
From these recollections, it would appear people in this community knew your business, but they minded theirs. Unless of course they were in the market for spirits or trying to enforce the law! And as with many small towns, there were always those willing to help you out.
A Maturing Town & a Toast
As saloons shuttered during the years of Prohibition, other opportunities sprang to life by the 1920s. Most saloons opted to secure the necessary licenses required to become a pool hall and card room, selling cigars, tobacco, and soft drinks. The Pastime Saloon became a pool hall and sweet shop. After his arrest for selling liquor without a license, former Eagle Roost proprietor, H.A. Hammond converted his saloon to a shoe repair shop. By the 1930s, some pool halls had transformed into restaurants, adding lunch counters, booths, and tables.
By 1934, painting the pool halls was big business. With Prohibition over, Issaquah began building modern beer parlors. There was the Read and Schomber Beer Tavern, Clark Pool Hall became Clark Beer Parlors, and the new Grand Central Tavern and Cafe, was touted as one of the most unique bars in the county with its slab and log (with bark) idea on the outside and the inside walls – and on December 31, 1936, its name was changed to the Log Tavern Restaurant. Still going strong today. Old hotels and saloons were razed in these years and replacement establishments included car dealerships, paint shops, beauty nooks, and other businesses.
The first sale of town property in this intersection of Issaquah was made on April 26, 1887 from Jacob and Mary Jones to Isaac Cooper and Thomas Rowley. This lot was part of the homestead which Jacob Jones received a patent for from the United States Government – and on this corner they built their home, and the town’s first saloon. Ironically, this abstract piece of land was bought by Thomas Drylie in 1907. Drylie doubled the size of the saloon, but when prohibition hit, rented it as a pool hall. The building was moved down the block a few years later by Jack McQuade and used for other purposes. Today it serves as a church on Front Street.
Things are a lot quieter around here now, and there aren't many folks left who remember the old saloon days. But we can look back on the brawling young town that it once was with a sly smile, knowing the statute of limitations for all that illicit liquor has long expired. Let’s raise a glass to Issaquah!
Sources:
The Issaquah Press
The Seattle Daily News
IHM Oral Histories: Floyd Bush (1974), Dallas Darst (1970); Ivan Darst (1977), Bob Evans (1975), Lee Roy Helper (1979), John Hicko (1975), William Hunt (1970), David Arthur Lewis (1979), Irene Bosomi Malmassari (1988), Viiola White Petersen (2006), and Josephine Cornick Ross (1979)
IHM archives and collections
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