The Blob is now a pile of debris
Odd Queen Anne landmark razed

By MARK HIGGINS
SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER REPORTER

The Blob, the incongruous, rounded, stucco building that housed failed restaurants and became a Seattle landmark, was devoured yesterday by a bulldozer.

A small crowd observed the demolition of the eccentric, pinkish-white structure on lower Queen Anne Hill. Some applauded; others cheered; nobody dabbed wet eyes.

"I'm glad it's going," said Jim Hammer, who manages a nearby apartment complex. "It's an eyesore as far as I'm concerned."

As the The Blob was crushed into oblivion, motorists driving on Roy Street honked their horns in celebration. One woman got out of her car, clapped for few moments, and drove off.

Nearby apartment dwellers, drawn to the demolition site by the racket of destruction, snapped pictures of the building that could never rid itself of its unpopular appearance or its money-losing reputation.

"The place was a curse," said Bessie Johnanson, who has lived most of her 68 years on lower Queen Anne. "Nothing worked out here. All I can say is: 'Hallelujah.'"

"Anything has got to be better than looking at this bloated whale," huffed Michael Nester, who made a point of coming yesterday to witness The Blob's final moments of life at First Avenue North and Roy.

The first building constructed on the site was a boxy structure occupied by Clyde's Cleaners in 1946. Paramount Cleaners took over the premises in the 1950s and did business there until the restaurants arrived in the 1970s. They came one after another: Tex-Mex, Spanish and others.

None was very successful.

In the early 1980s, the building was transformed into The Blob. The bizarre design was the brainchild of flamboyant Los Angeles developer Anthony Dadvar, who envisioned a structure that would look like a dwelling in Baghdad.

An animated, demonstrative man whose arms flailed about when he talked, Dadvar wore white suits and drove a silver convertible. Some considered his tastes tacky. He took a special interest in the reconstruction project, regularly showing up to exhort workers and inspect their handiwork.

In 1990, The Blob was transformed into a Greek restaurant called Orestes. It, too, went belly up. After a brief interlude as a cowboy bar, the building languished unoccupied, never to reopen again.

"I can still remember those garlic prawns at that Greek place," Hammer recalled yesterday.

Not everyone was pleased to see The Blob reduced to smithereens.

Rose Walter, who also manages a lower Queen Anne apartment complex, was peeved to see people happy about the destruction.

"I'm going to cry," Walter said. "It was such a unique building. And it was great for giving directions. I'd just say I live near The Blob and everyone knew how to find me."

David Jones, senior warden at St. Paul's Episcopal Church across the street, said it was inevitable that The Blob would be leveled.

"But the problem I have is that I do have a certain perverse affection for it," he said.

"I wanted it to work, but since it didn't, I guess this is best."

After the debris is carted away, the site's Canadian owners plan to build a four-story structure. The first floor will feature retail outlets and the upper floors will have condominiums or apartments.

Motion Financial Services of Vancouver bought the property last February. The company has not retained the services of Anthony Dadvar. Nor are there plans to memorialize what was The Blob.

P-I reporter Ellis E. Conklin can be reached at 206-448-8320 or ellisconklin@seattle-pi.com