St. Anne Parish History—Part 3
March 16, 2008
Roaring 20s Usher in
the Msgr. Quain Era
T
he 1920s were a boom and bust, roller
coaster ride for St. Anne’s, full of challenges to meet and problems to overcome. Seattle’s growth was exploding
— from a population of 80,000 in 1900 to 365,000
in 1924. And Queen Anne Hill
grew right along with it to a population of 30,000 in 1930.
The 20s were roaring. Optimism
was sky high and nothing seemed
impossible. Women voted for the
first time in the national election
of 1920, Lindbergh conquered the
Atlantic and with Boeing cranking out new airplanes, the sky no
longer seemed the limit. The
public was giddy, even though
Prohibition took away a little of
the fun. It was the jazz age and
the clubs were full of flappers
doing the latest dance craze —
the Charleston.
every existing St. Anne structure except
Banchero Hall. Fr. Quain, elevated to monsignor
in 1959, left an indelible mark on St. Anne Parish
— and a wealth of great stories about him. Some
examples:
• “Boys, be good to your mothers.” That was his entire
Mother’s Day sermon one year,
recalled deceased parishioner
Francis Peterman.
• Fr. Quain would routinely ask
parishioners if they had enough
groceries and coal for the winter.
Peterman recalled a coal delivery
arriving at his house one winter
day — Fr. Quain had ordered it.
Monsignor Thomas Quain in a regal
pose, St. Anne’s legendary pastor for
37 years.
Off the ground
But the 20s were full of challenges for St. Anne. It
was off the ground, but just barely. It had a church
that was falling apart, and to be a viable parish it
needed a school. And that meant it also needed a
convent to house the Holy Names sisters who
would be the teachers.
It was a daunting task, demanding a pastor with
vision, the determination to keep the parish moving right through the Great Depression, and toughness blended with compassion. St. Anne Parish
got just the right man for the job — Fr. Thomas P.
Quain who built, re-built or planned to build —
• He was famous for his 12minute Masses. If he got behind
on Saturday confessions, he
would come out and announce,
“We’re running behind. Mortal
sins only, please.”
• Fr. Quain took a real interest in school children.
Once, when a bike was stolen, he made the culprit
confess in front of everybody, which probably curtailed theft for some time.
• He loved to drop in on the classrooms and
would always hand out the report cards. Anyone
receiving less than a B in deportment earned a
stern glare. But he always had chocolate bars for
the first and second graders.
Born in County Limerick, Ireland and ordained in
1908, Fr. Quain came to Seattle in 1922 after previous assignments in Tacoma and Aberdeen. A
parish school was a pressing need when he arrived. Queen Anne was growing after World
War I — and so was the number of kids. Fr.
James K. Dunne, the previous pastor, had begun
construction of a school on lots behind the
church and rectory donated by Mr. & Mrs. Frank
McDermott in 1915.
Fr. Quain replaced Fr. Dunne in November
1922, when just the first story of the school was
completed. With Fr.Quain in charge, school
construction didn’t miss a beat. He wouldn’t
have allowed it. Total cost of the school —
$43,000.
Next, a convent
While the school was being built, plans were
also under way for a convent to house the Sisters
of the Holy Names of Jesus and Mary. In that
era, it would have been unthinkable for them to
live anywhere but a convent — and equally unthinkable to hire lay teachers.
The first convent was an attractive home on W.
Comstock St. between 1st Ave. W. and 2nd Ave.
W. acquired in March 1923. But it needed repairs and the addition of three more rooms and a
chapel. Then, the convent was ready but the faculty wasn’t — more sisters were needed.
It all comes together
Finally, it all came together. Five Holy Names
sisters arrived in August 1923 under the leadership of Sister Superior Mary Christina, principal.
A few days later Bishop O’Dea dedicated the
new St. Anne’s School — his fifth dedication of
a new diocesan school that year. Fr. Quain and
the bishop concelebrated a Solemn High Mass,
with the bishop delivering the homily. St. Anne
School was ready for business!
The school was an instant success. When it
opened on Sept. 3, 1923 with 150 children, the
sisters had to order more books. The school also
needed a playground, so the parish bought four
lots where the kids could burn off their excess
energy.
A proud Fr. Quain in 1923 with the first students to
attend the new St. Anne School.
It’s always something
In 1926, the church needed attention. HistoryLink, an online encyclopedia, describes the old
church as built in the Spanish mission style —
“an exotic landmark among the hill’s clapboards.” But St. Anne parishioners discovered
that stucco — the original church exterior — and
rain don’t mix and the church was leaking badly.
“The church had needed repairs for many years,”
Fr. Quain wrote in a report to the archbishop.
The old church with its new coat of shingles. The
rectory is to the right and school (without hall) to
the left. The large cross and statue of St. Anne
and Mary were lit by electric lights, making them
prominent Queen Anne landmarks at night.
“The stucco had cracked and crumbled,” Fr.
Quain wrote, “and the church was almost a ruin.
Several attempts were made to make it waterproof, but to no avail. In 1926 the church was
practically rebuilt.”
Gone was the exotic exterior, replaced with
practical cedar shingles. The interior of the
church also was completely redecorated.
Thousands attend novenas to St. Anne
In 1929 a new shrine — including a statue of
St. Anne — was added to the interior of the
church, the gift of Mrs. P.J. McHugh. In the
dedication by Bishop O’Dea he urged parishioners “to go with confidence to St. Anne in all
their trials and troubles.” Young girls, of
course, prayed to St. Anne for another reason
— “Dear St. Anne, get me a man as fast as you
can.” Later in 1929 parishioners — and the
entire nation — would have a longer, much
more serious list of problems on their prayer list.
the chapel, described in newspapers as “a
miniature monastic church of jewel-like artistry.” Fr. Quain said the first Mass in the
chapel the day before Christmas.
According to the newspapers, the building was
a modern marvel: “every fixture down to the
detail of window ventilation controls embraces
the most advanced ideas in comfort and convenience.” Cost of the convent was projected
to be less than $30,000, but came in at
$25,200, “accomplished through the careful
planning and vigilance of the Rev. Thomas
Quain,” said news accounts.
“Dear St. Anne, get me a man
as fast as you can.”
With the new shrine as a focal point, novenas
to St. Anne attracted thousands of worshipers
in later years. At one Novena, “3,000 people
received Holy Communion,” Fr. Quain wrote.
Market crashes, new convent rises
By 1929 the original makeshift convent had
been renovated and expanded, but it was still
suffering growing pains. A new convent was
needed, but the market crash must have made
Fr. Quain nervous, so he invited parishioners
to check out the old convent themselves. The
verdict was unanimous: “Build the convent.”
The sisters kept a log of the progress and noted
that the archbishop gave Fr. Quain permission
to proceed on June 26, 1930. The architectural
firm of Albertson, Wilson and Richardson was
chosen to design the new convent. A “giant
steam shovel” broke ground on September 8.
In early December work was almost complete
and Mrs. C. B. Blethen, wife of the editor of
The Seattle Times, brought an interior decorator from
Frederick and Nelson to measure the convent for
drapes. Mrs. Blethen also donated lights for
The convent in 1930, looking much as it does today.
Trouble on the horizon
By 1930, some 30,000 people called Queen
Anne home. And the area had matured and
beautified itself, thanks to the efforts of the
Queen Anne Community Club. In short,
Queen Anne was becoming a great place to
live and raise a family.
But the Great Depression triggered by the
stock market crash of October 29, 1929 hit the
nation — and Queen Anne — hard. National
unemployment topped 25 per cent in the early
1930s — 13 million in 1932. “A shanty town
or ‘Hooverville’ erupted in the Interbay flats,”
according to a history by the Queen Anne Historical Society. “At the same time foreclosure
vacated many houses in the district.”
passbooks and deposits. He was happy to get
those meager deposits for the bank and children
learned how to save. An annual bazaar lasting
several evenings was a big money raiser, with a
slot machine, on-stage Bingo, games with prizes
and the grand prize of a new Studebaker donated
by a parishioner who owned the downtown Studebaker franchise.
Hard times changed the nation’s music, too. In the
20s popular happy-go-lucky songs such as “I wish
I Could Shimmy Like My Sister Kate,” and
“Yes, We Have No Bananas” were on the hit parade. In the depression, the nation was singing a
different tune — “Just a Shanty in Old Shanty
Town,” and “Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?”
climbed the charts.
Fr. Quain: financier and salesman
The depression changed and shaped Fr. Quain, too.
Although remembered as a masterful financier, he
was initially shy about asking for funds. His appeal from the pulpit was simply “I need the
money.” Then he would go on to another topic.
Happy days are here again
Despite the difficult times, Fr. Quain kept St.
Anne’s going — probably by the sheer force of his
will and the generosity and prayers of parishioners.
And as the 30s wore on, it began to look like
prayers were being answered. Franklin D. Roosevelt and The New Deal put people back to work —
7,000 on the Grand Coulee Dam alone. And every
city has parks, campgrounds and other civic improvements built by Americans working under the
Works Progress Administration or the Civilian
Conservation Corps. Good times were coming
again.
They were not to last long, however, as the rumble
of war became louder and louder, soon engulfing
St. Anne Parish and every town, city and state in
the nation in a devastating world-wide conflict.
But he honed his routine. Once when soliciting
funds for baseball uniforms he instructed the congregation that he didn’t want to hear the jingle of
coins — only the rustle of paper. At one point in
the Depression, things got so tight he passed the
collection basket himself, pausing, waiting and
shaking the basket urging people to give.
He was also famous for his back room
“speakeasy” during Prohibition where liquid refreshment helped loosen the wallets of parishioners who could afford to give more.
Times were so tough that long time parishioner and president of Prudential Savings and
Loan, Steve Selak, would make weekly visits to
every classroom and collect the students’ savings
© 2008 by St. Anne Parish, Seattle WA.
Research and writing by Nick O’Connell, Dick Malloy, Rich Schneider, Mary Jo Martin, and Judy Killion.