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It’s impossible to talk about Kingsway and not mention the Purdy’s Chocolates factory. They offer tours, which I have never partaken in but think I would enjoy, what with my love of industrial kitchen machinery and my recently obtained antique chocolate molds. I have, however, visited the factory store, which in addition to regular Purdy’s fare sells rejects in large bags. I always hope to find a bag of assorted mangled bunny parts, but unfortunately the broken shapes are usually far less interesting. Their peanut butter bars, however, in any form, are nothing short of divine.

It seems an odd location for a chocolate factory, and it remains to be seen if Purdy’s will stay on indefinitely or move off of Kingsway to a more industrial location as the strip becomes a little more settled. It would be a shame to see it go, and mainly because it would mean the loss of the best fountain in the city, which sits outside the factory doors and is made from used candy machines. Trés Willy Wonka.

By the way, if you live in Vancouver, watch the Courier tomorrow for an article about my Kingsway project…

So, I went for a walk this afternoon during an unexpected sunny break, hoping to find an interesting building to draw as the next entry in my Kingsway series, but what caught my eye more than buildings were gaping holes and heavy machinery. Since the Illustration Friday theme this week is “heavy”, my subject for today seemed pretty obvious…

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I’m not sure which I love more, the indecision as to whether this is Penny Grocery or Penny’s Grocery, which, in this particular situation, actually makes a real difference; or if it’s the memory of the one and only time I set foot inside Penny(’s) Grocery, which was to buy a 2 litre bottle of Coca-cola to serve as a vehicle for the boozy ice-cream floats we were making in the parking lot of the Dairy Queen next door. The thought of it makes me feel a little ill now, as I’m sure it did then. That night we ended up at the VicWay restaurant, where I recall one of my friends hamming it up by helping the night waitress with the vacuuming as we ate our fries & gravy. Talk about the quintessential late-80’s Kingsway experience.

I suspect that was in the days of “New Coke,” remember that marketing fiasco? If not, head into Penny(’s). They’ve still got some against the back wall.

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In an interview a few days ago, I talked about the buildings along Kingsway, and why I’m so torn between my default position of wanting to preserve what remains, but also being ready for the new to creep in. I said that for some reason few, if any, of the buildings along Kingsway have quite enough charm or character for people to bother fighting to keep them—there is no possibility of the strip becoming a heritage-based district like, say, Vancouver’s Main Street or Yaletown. And I think the reason has more to do with Kingsway’s age than anything else. Looking at photos in the archives, it’s clear that this old boulevard was lined with stores and services from very early on in Vancouver’s history. Many of them were built in the late 1800’s and very early 1900’s, and at that time, buildings weren’t intended to last for a century—they were basically wooden boxes with false fronts, erected with a this-will-do-for-now mentality, from what I can see. At that time people were moving along and settling wherever they found an opportunity, and so the goal was to get something up, not plan for the long haul. For this reason, many of these buildings would have fallen apart after a few decades, and so I suspect that many of them had crumbled by the 60’s and were replaced then, during a time of pretty uninspiring building design. The odd one that did survive is just an old square shell, with no real redeeming qualities aside from its age. The areas that went up in the 20’s, even, were built to last a little longer—by then Vancouver had been settled for some time and would have felt more permanent. I suspect poor Kingsway was simply born a little too early, and reborn a little too late. Soon we’ll see how it fares the third time around.

On closer inspection, my last Kingsway illustration, based on an early 40’s archive photo, turns out to be one block west of Knight Street, at the intersection of Clark. And in the middle of that block two of the buildings from that time remain—I suspect this is one of the structures in the distance at the far left side of the illustration in Volume Five. And, in case you’re wondering, the jag in the middle isn’t a slip of my wrist, it’s very much a feature of the building. In studying this drooping old brute tonight, I was left with one overriding question: what could it possibly be like upstairs?

The rest of the series can be found here…

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Last week I went over to the library archives to dig up some old photos for work, and couldn’t resist looking up Kingsway—and not only because I was so delighted by the original card catalog, with cards typed (on actual typewriters) sometime in the 1970’s. The edges of the cards are all soft with wear, and the drawers slide open so smoothly, and when they do the smell immediately conjures up images of the elementary school library and posters of Dewey Decimal. It’s fantastic. Anyway, I realized as soon as I started leafing through that this Kingsway series may take on a life of its own. The old photos abound, and each one is more amazing than the next. Dear old Kingsway, hold onto your rumpled hat—we’re about to dig up all your long-forgotten secrets.

This is the southeast corner of Kingsway & Knight, sometime in the early 1940’s. The scene out the window of House of Dosa is rather different today, which is unfortunate—but it’s a give and take, as I suspect old Howie couldn’t run across the street for South Indian cuisine either…

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Good old Kingsway has a specialty repair shop for everything: TVs, tools, vacuums—and this place, Y. Franks, repairs stoves. I don’t think I ever knew that before; I have seen the sign a thousand times, but had never read it. I love that it says “serving Vancouver 65 years” on the sign that was likely put up in 1982—they should stick a “+25” card above that part.

This place has some amazing antique stoves in the window that I would have loved to draw, but the problem is, the only way to really do so would be to stand in the middle of the street. Perhaps once the apocalypse comes I can go stand in the middle of Kingsway for an hour and draw stoves, but until then, I think the old thoroughfare has a pretty steady flow.

Ah, the Eldorado. When I went to high school there was a crazy old Swedish janitor who lived in the neighbourhood. I passed his house on the way home and was often at the school late, so he would chat with me in the halls or over his fence. He talked a bit like the Swedish chef from the Muppets, and always smelled boozy, but he was a nice old guy. The odd time I would see him on the bus, and he was always heading to the Eldorado, so the place still reminds me of him.

One thing about Kingsway is it still has phone booths, plenty of them. Have you tried finding a pay phone elsewhere in the city lately? The last time I needed one was in the West End, I was on my way to a party and needed to call for the exact address. I walked for blocks and blocks until finally I found one, and it wasn’t until I put my only quarter in that I realized it had no six key. The area code in Vancouver is 604, so I was screwed. Of course it didn’t return my quarter, so I had to call the operator and say “Um, can you put me through? This phone can’t dial sixes.”

I am not a fan of phones in general, and I like cell phones even less—and the fact that pretty much everyone has one now means that phone booths are becoming obsolete. People wonder why there are so few superheroes among us these days, but for me it’s perfectly obvious: where are they supposed to change?

This old barber shop was striking quite a pose today, what with the sun hitting it just right, and the requisite hook-nosed eastern European barber working in perfect profile, right in view of the window. The only heartbreaking part was when I realized the bracket on the side window once held a barber’s pole—I suppose in many ways I’m starting this Kingsway tribute a little too late. But fantastic finds still abound on the haggard old boulevard: today I glanced down a little covered walkway between buildings to find a lovely old Airstream Bambi trailer, parked in an alley next to a backyard with a gate made from two old doors with bowling-pin-and-ball cutouts. Who knew?

It’s tempting to let this spin off into a second series: a set of self-portraits, before, during and after I go in and have my hair “styled” by this fellow…

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Kingsway cuts a diagonal swath through East Vancouver and South Burnaby, with pockets that have barely changed in decades, interspersed with nondescript stretches of buildings that it’s impossible to even assign a time period to. Lots of them may have gone up in the 50’s, but had horrible facelifts in the early 80’s, and nothing since. A lot of it is pretty depressing, really.

I have mixed feelings about the fact that Kingsway is about to change. I hate that Vancouver can be so heartless about tearing down anything old—but at the same time, the stretch near where I live is particularly barren. While there are a few nostalgia-inducing gems like crazy old Wally’s, for the most part it’s just downtrodden, and attracts an unseemly after-dark trade. And the problem with the gems that do exist is they all miss the mark a little like Wally’s does—it tries to trade on its former persona, but I’m afraid that vanished with the Packards and Studebakers that once graced its parking lot. There’s a secret magical formula that allows a joint like this to retain its original charm—and unfortunately our Wally was not let in on it.

And so it is with a heavy heart that I guiltily look forward to some of the impending changes on Kingsway. For my penance, I will document what I can as a series of drawings, so that it won’t be entirely forgotten. At least one thing is for certain: no matter what happens to the buildings along this strip, the crows will remain.