One theory about Portland's Underground Tunnel Network, was brought forward by Portland historian Barney Blalock.
He says, "They were built by Chinese back in the days, when Chinatown was the center of gang activity, related to the different tongs. The gambling dens, brothels, and opium parlors of Chinatown, were connected to separate labyrinths, with steel doors, trapdoors leading to secret stairways, and tunnels for escape into far alleyways. These were security measures, designed for dealing with both rival tongs, and police raids."
Illegal gambling thrived in Chinatown in the first half of the 20th century. The underground industry was known as the "Red Vice Kingdom." There were periodic efforts to shut down the gambling dens, but many of them were protected by the police.
At 110 Southwest Third Avenue in the 1930s, to offer just one example, is the brick building, on our left, to the left of Stump town Coffee.
This stop is titled.
Portland gloried in its sexy, secret gambling dens in the 1930s.
The buildings storefront, bore the inscription, "Hop Lee, Merchant Tailor."
You would not find a tailor there -- at least not one who worked on the premises.
When a reporter stepped inside, finding only a “lone Chinese” there, he asked if the place was open.
“Sure is running,” came the reply.
Gamblers walked through that front room (empty, save for a lookout/fake tailor), down a dark hallway and into a kitchen.
At the back of the kitchen, they'd find a door, that looked like it was for a pantry.
It was a heavy, steel-reinforced door, and you had to ring a buzzer to gain admittance. Ah, those were the days, you might think, when secret vices were attained with a knock on a heavy door, and a whispered password.
Inside was a craps, and blackjack tables.
Such places were, “a haven, for safecrackers, burglars and other criminals awaiting assignment to some job.”
A sign on the wall said the place closed at 1 a.m.
That was only a suggestion.
The operation was two blocks from the central police station.
Anyone walking into the gaming room of The Hop Lee, would see a craps table right there, with “eager players beseeching Lady Luck to be with them.” On the outside, the windows “flagrantly” advertised that the place’s offerings included gambling.
The police officially gave shops in Chinatown some leeway with gambling games, but this clearly went beyond that exception, with chuck-a-luck, blackjack and faro as well as craps. Still, the operators had no fear of being shut down by the police.
“Beggars’ pennies and housewives’ nickels ... pour into the treasure chest of the red kingdom of vice,” The Oregonian wrote of the Hop Lee, which was raided the day after the newspaper’s report on its activities.
Not that the raid had much impact on the business. The place was packed with gamblers until shortly before the police arrived and then quickly filled up again after the cops left. “How the Hop Lee knew that there was to be a raid remains a mystery,” a reporter wrote.
NEXT, IS THE MULTNOMAH HOTEL.
With many more.
Does anyone have any questions?
He says, "They were built by Chinese back in the days, when Chinatown was the center of gang activity, related to the different tongs. The gambling dens, brothels, and opium parlors of Chinatown, were connected to separate labyrinths, with steel doors, trapdoors leading to secret stairways, and tunnels for escape into far alleyways. These were security measures, designed for dealing with both rival tongs, and police raids."
Illegal gambling thrived in Chinatown in the first half of the 20th century. The underground industry was known as the "Red Vice Kingdom." There were periodic efforts to shut down the gambling dens, but many of them were protected by the police.
At 110 Southwest Third Avenue in the 1930s, to offer just one example, is the brick building, on our left, to the left of Stump town Coffee.
This stop is titled.
Portland gloried in its sexy, secret gambling dens in the 1930s.
The buildings storefront, bore the inscription, "Hop Lee, Merchant Tailor."
You would not find a tailor there -- at least not one who worked on the premises.
When a reporter stepped inside, finding only a “lone Chinese” there, he asked if the place was open.
“Sure is running,” came the reply.
Gamblers walked through that front room (empty, save for a lookout/fake tailor), down a dark hallway and into a kitchen.
At the back of the kitchen, they'd find a door, that looked like it was for a pantry.
It was a heavy, steel-reinforced door, and you had to ring a buzzer to gain admittance. Ah, those were the days, you might think, when secret vices were attained with a knock on a heavy door, and a whispered password.
Inside was a craps, and blackjack tables.
Such places were, “a haven, for safecrackers, burglars and other criminals awaiting assignment to some job.”
A sign on the wall said the place closed at 1 a.m.
That was only a suggestion.
The operation was two blocks from the central police station.
Anyone walking into the gaming room of The Hop Lee, would see a craps table right there, with “eager players beseeching Lady Luck to be with them.” On the outside, the windows “flagrantly” advertised that the place’s offerings included gambling.
The police officially gave shops in Chinatown some leeway with gambling games, but this clearly went beyond that exception, with chuck-a-luck, blackjack and faro as well as craps. Still, the operators had no fear of being shut down by the police.
“Beggars’ pennies and housewives’ nickels ... pour into the treasure chest of the red kingdom of vice,” The Oregonian wrote of the Hop Lee, which was raided the day after the newspaper’s report on its activities.
Not that the raid had much impact on the business. The place was packed with gamblers until shortly before the police arrived and then quickly filled up again after the cops left. “How the Hop Lee knew that there was to be a raid remains a mystery,” a reporter wrote.
NEXT, IS THE MULTNOMAH HOTEL.
With many more.
Does anyone have any questions?
