Street of the Week:  Lytle Road

Location: Runs north/south from Pleasant Beach Drive, south of Baker Hill

History: There once was a beer-drinking monkey named Mike. The beloved pet and local celebrity lived at Lytle’s Saloon in Pleasant Beach where many a visitor bought him a round just to see a monkey enjoy a beer at the bar.

Saloon owner and monkey owner Billy Lytle was a character, too. Often smartly dressed in a fashionable derby hat and garters, Lytle was known as a friendly, witty businessman who understood the financial benefits of keeping a monkey on a chain in a bar.

Lytle and his wife Mamie also owned a parrot, a gift from a visiting seagoing captain. Though unlike his fellow animal counterpart, the parrot didn’t indulge in the saloon’s alchoholic beverages, his salty language always kept things lively at the Lytle’s establishment.

The animal Lytles weren’t the only ones with reputations. Mamie was a small woman known for abbreviating everyone’s names and for frequently prefacing most of what she said with “wait ’til I tell you.” Mamie’s favorite exclamation of all, however, was supposedly “Oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph.”

She had good reason to call upon the sacred trio one morning when she awoke to the maniac cackling of the chickens she kept outside her and Billy’s home near the saloon.

Upon looking out on the coop, Mamie saw chickens running around no, not with their heads cut off but almost as upset. It seemed Mike the Monkey had found his way to the Lytle home and taken an interest in the flock. He was now in the coop, chasing the frenzied fowls around and pulling off their feathers.

“Bill, come quick!” Mamie was said to have yelled upon seeing the monkey-chicken war being waged in her yard. “Wait ’til I tell you what Mike did to the chickens!”

Billy, upon seeing the commotion, likely laughed at the antics his furry barkeep had gotten up to that morning. The monkey always cheered him up with its foolish tricks.

And when Kitsap County went dry and Lytle’s Saloon closed, Bill could have used a laugh. The couple fell on to hard times with Bill taking work in the taxing business, meeting ferries at Port Blakely to find fares.

As for Mamie, she outlived her husband by many years. In the twilight of her life, she sold her home and moved to a small cottage not far from the site of their  once merry saloon. Let’s hope she still had Mike the monkey and that colorful parrot to keep her company.

Source: “A History of Bainbridge Island.” Katy Warner, 1968, page 83.

This occasional Islander series explores the history of island street names, as compiled by Elinor Ringland and fellow Bainbridge Island Historical Society volunteers.  If you have an island road story to share, email Ringland at elinorjoe@msn.com.

Street of the Week: Gideon Lane

Location: Runs east/west off Grow Avenue, just north of Wyatt Way

History: The Gideons come from pioneering stock. Hailing from Germany, the first offshoots of the family to push west landed in Minnesota before packing up again and heading for the Pacific.

Charlie was the first to land on the West Coast but was soon followed by his younger brother Josiah. The family relocated to Seattle in 1902 and eventually made a home on Bainbridge Island where Josiah worked at the shipyard until his death in 1920. His wife Margaret continued to live on Bainbridge; she was instrumental in the first island library, school and newspaper.

Josiah and Margaret’s son Kenneth also called Bainbridge home and constructed the cabin that still stands on the edge of Gideon Park.

This occasional Islander series explores the history of island street names, as compiled by Elinor Ringland and fellow Bainbridge Island Historical Society volunteers.  If you have an island road story to share, email Ringland at elinorjoe@msn.com.

Street of the Week: Kono Lane

Location: Runs east/west off Tani Creek Road near Blakely Harbor

History: When a representative of the Japanese Consulate arrived in Port Blakely to oversee the local mill and its large base of Japanese workers, he was shocked at what he found.

Crammed together in bunkhouses, working 10-hour days with minimum pay and then gambling the night away, most of the employees were not, the consulate reported, “honest workers.”

It was up to mill boss Hanjiro Kono to set things straight. Kono stopped the rampant gambling and freeloading. By the time he was done, many workers had left to be replaced by Japanese farmers and their families. To encourage the new arrivals to put down roots, the mill set aside land for the families to live on rent-free in homes built from donated lumber.

By 1903, the area had hundreds of residents, as well as bathhouses, barbershops, churches, a restaurant and even a hotel owned by none other than mill boss Hanjiro Kono.

This occasional Islander series explores the history of island street names, as compiled by Elinor Ringland and fellow Bainbridge Island Historical Society volunteers.  If you have an island road story to share, email Ringland at elinorjoe@msn.com.

Location: Runs east/west between Weaver Road and John Adams Lane. A middle section of Shepard Way is now a walking path.

History: “The man who knows the most about the insides of Bainbridge Island.” That was how the Seattle Times referred to island doctor Frank L. Shepard in an article published in the early 1960s.

Educated at Northwester University and Seattle General Hospital, Dr. Shepard was originally from Fargo, North Dakota. He and wife Charlotte McEown moved to Bainbridge Island in November 1911.

A couple months after they arrived, Dr. Shepard, assisted by his wife, delivered his first baby on Bainbridge. By the time he retired from medicine more than four decades later, Dr. Shepard would deliver nearly 2,000 more bouncing baby Washingtonians. Continue reading →

Street of the Week: Boulder Place

Location: Runs east/west off Rockaway Bluff Road

History: Excavators met a rocky start when constructing roads in this part of Bainbridge Island back in 1996.

As the native woodlands were upturned, rocks of all shapes and sizes slowed down construction, but it was one particular boulder that required reinforcements be called in.

A mammoth bulldozer arrived on the scene to move the troublesome rock. For 600 feet, the machine pushed and it shoved, it revved and it rolled until finally that burden of a boulder came to a stop at the entrance of the street.

Now the rock rests like nature’s own gatekeeper, inspiring the street’s name and offering a handy landmark for all to navigate by.

Sources: Bill and Karen Meyer.

This occasional Islander series explores the history of island street names, as compiled by Elinor Ringland and fellow Bainbridge Island Historical Society volunteers.  If you have an island road story to share, email Ringland at elinorjoe@msn.com.