Morning Oregon Doorknob & Plate
LOCATION: SW corner of 6th and Alder Streets
BUILT: 1892 DEMOLISHED: 1950
In 1892 Henry Pittock had a new building built to house the offices of the Oregonian Newspaper at the SW corner of Sixth and Alder Streets. The building was later demolished in 1950.
The building was designed by the Reid Bros architectural firm. It was the first steel-framed building erected in Portland and the tallest at its time.
The door knobs and plates were taken by employees as souvenirs when the Oregonian moved out in 1948. The clockworks were displayed for a long time at OMSI.
The Oregonian Building, circa 1929 (AHC Library)
Have you heard the following story about the doorknobs? This story is shared like an old myth all through Portland.
“The Mystery of the Morning Oregonian Doorknob
Or “Taking the Fifth”
One morning, about 25 years ago, the publisher of The Oregonian tried to enter his private office and found the door not only standing wide open but also missing its brass door knob and lock, and the ornamental bronze plate.
A janitor happened to walk by just as the boss looked around and found that many other doors on the second floor also were missing door knobs.
“Have you any idea as to what happened to these doors?” the boss asked, and the janitor replied that all he knew was that during the night all through the building there were different men working on door with screwdrivers and wrenches.
The man asked if he knew who the men were and was told that all he knew was that they worked on the eighth floor, which was the editorial department. He surmised that they must have been reporters, but didn’t really know any of them by name.
Immediately a notice from the top brass was posted in all departments warning all hands that every missing lock and knob and plate had to be returned at once, or the police would be called. Failure to comply with this notice would result in dire consequences under the law. It was pointed out that management considered the unlawful act to be the worst case of vandalism ever brought to its attentions. I might mention that on the eve of the morning after the night of the missing door knobs, a notice had been posted instructing all employees to report to the new Oregonian building the next day for work.
How was a guy who had worked in the “Old Lady of Alder Street” building most of his life going to leave without some sort of keepsake to remember the old place? The answer seemed to be the ornate door knobs. Once the first guy had collected his memento the idea spread like a forest fire on a dry summer day. Some people who were anxious to get some of the loot left the building to get tools from their parked cars down on the streets. Newspaper work for a time was suspended by everyone while the souvenirs to remember “The Good Old Days” were being heisted from the doors.
The door hardware was cast in Boston and had been brought around the Horn in sailing vessels while the old building was being built. The door knob itself had a large “MO” on the surface of the brass knob and the plate into was made of cast bronze, and had the masthead of the newspaper engraved on it and the words “Morning Oregonian.” The combination of the lock, knob and plate were truly a real work of art.
Today the hardware is considered to be real antique. Today every member of the current brass of The Oregonian has a sample or a bronze copy of the lost door knobs, some at home, some on their desks, made into book ends and paperweights, etc.
As I look back to that eventful night, I think of what Watergate must have meant to poor Mr. Nixon. What happened that night to The Oregonian management is like what happened to the President. Here were many of the most trusted members of the staff committing a crime of break-and-enter and sabotage. But really there was never any idea of malice. What it was was love for an old friend that had sheltered and provided for so many for such a long period of time. The boys wanted something tangible which they could have and hold for the rest of their days.
I got mine. I know who all the rest of the gang was, but I ain’t talking. I refuse to talk; it might incriminate me. Thank the Lord for the Fifth Amendment.”