Nickel Show:
Movies Finally Invade the Northwest

In the early 1900s, particularly in rural Washington, the traveling exhibitor continued to be the way most moving pictures were shown, despite the inherent difficulties of doing so. Unlike the East Coast, population centers in the West were often separated by large gaps and not necessarily linked by transportation infrastructure. Those two reasons alone made things difficult for traveling exhibitors in the Pacific Northwest. Turn-of-the-century America was still agrarian-based and largely rural, with most people living in communities of under 1,000. In the Northwest, as elsewhere, this made for two different movie experiences. As Kathryn Fuller-Seeley and George Potamianos noted, this was “a situation that created for some residents very limited access to movies, while [urban dwellers] had plenty.”^[1]

But while Sally Chandler Sloan and James McConahey were pioneering the business model for the standalone theatre, other regional showmen were learning how to make traveling exhibition pay. “The touring movie show was a low unit price, low overhead, cash business with wide popular appeal,” observed Calvin Pryluck. “Admission was a nickel or a dime; other entertainment admission prices were twenty-five or fifty cents; hall rentals were typically a share of the box-office gross; a satisfying show could be put on by only one or two people. Living expenses and transportation were the only other overhead costs in addition to the initial investment.”^[2] The business was also getting easier to enter. In 1897 the Sears and Roebuck catalogue began offering equipment packages for traveling exhibitors, including slide and film projectors, plus phonograph players that could be used as part of the show.^[3] Within a decade, the catalogue was offering even more robust packages for aspiring nickelodeon operators.

In the first decade of the 20^th century most Washingtonians only saw motion pictures on occasion, perhaps once or twice a year, when a traveling show rolled into town. These included men like the Fleming Brothers, itinerant showmen who toured the state’s smaller communities between 1899 and 1905. Little is known about them, where they came from and how they got into the exhibition business. Their first known show in Washington took place on April 8, 1899, at the Acme Opera House in Aberdeen. For one night only the Flemings presented “Edison’s waragraph,” showing a program of Spanish American War pictures, including glimpses of Admiral Cervera’s fleet and the bombardment of Mantanzas in Cuba. These war films topped the Fleming bill, but other subjects were shown as well, including a boxing exhibition between Kid McCoy and Thomas Sharkey; in total, they claimed to show over 40 films per show.^[4] But the engagement didn’t go over well in Aberdeen, as the Mason County Journal noted before the outfit was set to appear at the Kneeland Opera House in Shelton. “The Harbor papers are not giving the Waragraph show a very good notice,” they observed, “crediting the [Flemings] with total ignorance of the kinetoscope.”^[5] Not the notice you want to get on the eve of a brand-new engagement.

Interestingly, the Flemings had a musical element to their show. Provided by mechanical means, this wasn’t played in conjunction with the films but was a separate feature – mostly likely something that entertained patrons while the picture reels were being changed out. Some Fleming notices identified this apparatus as a polyphone, though later advertisements described the instrument as both a graphophone and “the Edison mechanical opera.”

Where exactly the Fleming Brothers toured that summer isn’t documented, but they seem to have turned up only in smaller communities, skipping over Washington’s larger, more populated cites. After playing Aberdeen and Shelton, for example, they can be traced to a show in Burnett, near Enumclaw, in June of 1899, before heading east of the mountains to present moving pictures in, among other places, Pullman, before ending up in the Cosmopolis area in December. Interestingly, seats at a Fleming Brothers show were on the pricey side, considering the small towns they played and (according to the Mason County Journal) the lack of skill they displayed. For the Pullman engagement, for example, adults were admitted for 35 and 50 cents, with a 25-cent admission charge for children.^[6]

Where the Fleming Brothers went after their 1899 tour is a mystery, as they disappeared for several years before turning up again in 1903. Given that they spent much of 1899 in Washington, however, it’s not hard to imagine that these showmen may have taken their exhibitions into Oregon, Idaho or Montana, or perhaps up to British Columbia in the interim. But in 1903 they were back in Washington, turning up in Dryad, halfway between Centralia and Grays Harbor. Now calling themselves the Fleming Bros. Electrical Company, in Dryad they were met by “the largest crowd that has assembled in the town hall for some time.”^[7]

As in 1899, the Flemings stayed in Washington for much of 1903, eventually turning up at a Chautauqua gathering near Lake Stevens, in Snohomish County, on August 11^th, followed by a September tent show in North Yakima. Two key films for those engagements were from filmmaker George Méliès – an adaptation of Robinson Crusoe and his most famous picture, A Trip to the Moon. They were also excerpts from The Passion Play, in addition to films depicting the funeral of President William McKinley, assassinated two years earlier. The tent show in North Yakima was something of an extended engagement – or at least the Flemings stayed long enough to advertise nightly program changes. Music was still a feature in these shows, though the Flemings dispensed with the phonograph and were now featuring illustrated songs (music accompanied by projected slides) performed by an unnamed singer.^[8]

The outfit returned to the Northwest in the spring of 1904, but changes were afoot. One of the Flemings left the organization, the remaining brother partnering with Frank Van Ronk to present shows as Fleming and Van Ronk.^[9] They were still showing their Méliès films – Robinson Crusoe and A Trip to the Moon remained headline attractions – but now they were now promoting a 24-scene version of Ben Hur as well. In May of that year Fleming and Van Ronk were playing communities in the San Juan Islands, giving a performance on the 11^th in Friday Harbor, followed thereafter by an engagement in Roche Harbor.^[10]

Where Fleming and Van Ronk traveled after returning to the mainland isn’t known, but they almost certainly played additional dates beyond their engagements in the San Juans. Ultimately, however, their partnership didn’t last, and the outfit disappeared from exhibition circles. It’s not clear what became of the Fleming brothers, but Van Ronk was briefly involved in reopening the Edison Theatre in Olympia as a variety house, though he seems to have exited the project early. By 1909 he was living in Moclips and running a shooting gallery.

Except for the occasional trip to North Yakima and Pullman, the Flemings largely appear to have stayed west of the mountains, touring the Puget Sound and Peninsula areas more frequently than other parts of the state. That may have been because they weren’t the only outfit touring Washington at the time, so they made a business decision to stay out of eastern Washington to avoid the competition. Steel and Freeland were also traveling exhibitors who were active around this time, and they picked up the territory that the Flemings willingly (or unwillingly) ceded, hitting communities east of the Cascades over several tours.

Whereas we know almost nothing about the Fleming Brothers or where they came from, W.G. Steel and C.E. Freeland hailed from Portland. They were only on the scene for a short period, about three years, but operated very much like the Flemings, taking their picture and musical show into small, rural communities.

Though the pair spent most of their time in eastern Washington, the organization turned up for the first time in late 1903 touring the western side of the state. On December 5^th, they gave a one-night show at a fraternal hall in La Conner, an engagement that suggests how their business (and similar outfits) tended to operate. In this case Steel and Freeland appeared “under the auspices” of the group, in their own meeting hall – the exhibitors were renting the space by handing over a portion of the box office. The benefit for Steel and Freeland lay in the fact that the fraternal group not only owned the performance space but was incentivized to guarantee a large turnout, since they had a financial stake in the show.^[11] Many traveling exhibitors from this period operated using similar arrangements, when they were available.

The La Conner engagement must have been near the end of their westside tour, for Steel and Freeland turned up in Colfax about four weeks later, in January 1904. It wasn’t their first visit to the area; the partners had given a show there the year before. Like the Fleming Brothers, motion pictures were the main draw but music was a key component, though Steel and Freeland went about it differently. In Colfax, for example, they billed their presentation as an “illustrated concert” and performed alongside the local Methodist choir, in a show that offered both religious and illustrated songs in addition to the films. Picture-wise Steel and Freeland were showing Méliès’ A Trip to the Moon, although Edwin S. Porter’s Life of an American Fireman and a film entitled Christ in Art were also on the bill.^[12] One assumes the choir came in handy for this last title.

Whether Steel and Freeland continued giving shows in Washington during 1904 isn’t known, for their next known engagement didn’t come for another year. In 1905 the duo turned up in Kennewick on January 19^th and 20^th; no film titles were listed, but patrons were promised completely different bills each day. Diversifying the show was musical performer F.D. Confer, who specialized in illustrated and “coon” songs. “These people have the reputation of turning out one of the best shows in their line that has ever been seen on the stage,” observed the Columbia Courier, “their pictures being clear and [flickerless], and one can see them almost a plainly as if the actual scenes were transpiring…It is expected [that] a large crowd will be present at both nights of the entertainment.”^[13]

There were no reviews of the Kennewick engagement, but Steel and Freeland must have lived up to their billing because they were back 10 months later to play a one-night stand at the Kennewick Opera House on Saturday, November 25, 1905. The show arrived with a new slate of pictures, including Edwin S. Porter’s How a French Nobleman Got a Wife Through the “New York Herald” Personal Columns. New illustrated songs included “Day by Day” and “In the Shade of the Old Apple Tree,” performed by an unidentified singer. Unfortunately, they encountered an occupational hazard during this return engagement – the weather on November 25^th was so bad that it hampered turnout. “The Steel & Freeland moving picture show Saturday night was only fairly well attended on account of the inclement night,” said the Kennewick Courier. “The pictures were good and were especially enjoyed by the children. The baritone soloist rendered several fine selections.”^[14]

Following the Kennewick engagement, the Steel and Freeland show continued touring in eastern Washington for the remainder of December before disappearing from the scene. After Kennewick they turned up in Ritzville, where they played two nights in the local high school auditorium. A Trip to the Moon was the audience favorite, but other films impressed as well, including scenes from the Russo-Japanese war, a cowboy dance and a film that lacked a complete description but may have been The Great Train Robbery.^[15] They later turned up for a two-night stand at the Wenatchee Theatre before giving their last known Washington performances, at a church in Leavenworth, shortly before Christmas. This was also a two-night affair, but for unexplained reasons was sparsely attended, despite the Leavenworth Echo exclaiming that the show was “said to have been very good – better than the usual class of shows of this kind.”^[16]

Outfits like the Flemings, Steel and Freeland and others took a hit when the nickelodeon boom finally rolled into Washington around 1907. By then, improved film distribution (through an emerging exchange system) and low start-up costs meant that many communities, even rural ones, could get their own picture show, even if it only operated once or twice a week. Even so, there were still places in Washington that were either too small or too isolated to have their own theatre, and continued relying on traveling exhibition as their lifeline to picture entertainment.

In 1911, for example, William Hoyt got out of the nickelodeon business in Tacoma and embarked on a new enterprise – delivering movies to shoreline communities along Puget Sound. He purchased a gasoline-powered motorboat that not only shuttled him to these tiny enclaves but also powered his projector. Hoyt would come in, tie up, then run cables from the boat to his exhibition space. When he was set up and ready to go, he fired up the engine to power show, a necessity since he was playing areas with unreliable electrical service, if they had it at all. Obviously, this was a limited setup. In the summer Hoyt probably gave most shows outdoors, near the water’s edge, though he likely brought tarps or a tent with him in case of fickle weather. While some locations may have had an actual building he could use, Hoyt typically wasn’t playing formal spaces in any of these locations.^[17] Given his small audiences, this wasn’t a thriving business by any means; it’s almost as if William Hoyt was performing a form of public service. It’s not too surprising, then, that he eventually gave up the effort and became an insurance salesman.

William Hoyt came by sea, but it was more common for traveling exhibitors come by land. E.G. Kay of Snohomish was looking to sell his business in 1912, which included a projector, some films, cables, volt meters and other items. But the package also included his Garford touring car, which was (like William Hoyt’s motorboat) the exhibitor’s transportation and power source. “This outfit works perfectly and is now on a regular circuit making good money,” he contended.^[18] W.P. Shephard was using a more rustic version of that setup in 1914. Shephard hailed from Valley, part of unincorporated Stevens County, where he operated Shephard’s Photoplay Shows on a circuit of six communities. Like Hoyt and Kay, he was navigating areas without electricity, but had a unique way of getting around the problem. In this case Shephard drove the circuit by car, towing a homemade trailer behind him. Giving outdoor shows, primarily, he would unhitch this trailer and roll it into place, then fold the top down to reveal a projector stand and bicycle frame. The exact process wasn’t described, but essentially W.P. Shepard got everything set up, threaded the film, then powered the projector by pedaling a makeshift stationary bike, and did so in an exaggerated ringmaster costume that helped get the audience into the spirit of his shows.^[19] Like William Hoyt, however, Shepard eventually got out of the business, though he wasn’t averse to jumping back in on occasion. In early 1915 he was attending a fair in Davenport when he ran into a traveling exhibitor from Ephrata giving an automobile-powered show. The two struck up a friendly conversation, and for old time’s sake Shephard agreed to run the projector that evening while the other man took tickets and played master of ceremonies.^[20]

Most traveling outfits, like Hoyt and Shepard, were small-time businesses, but some were part of larger organizations. In 1920 the Community Motion Picture Bureau (CMPB) opened an office in Seattle, intent on organizing rural traveling circuits where no moving picture theatres existed. CMPB would do the logistics – arrange dates and locations, then send out an operator with a projection machine and films. They claimed to have 25 employees working throughout Washington, Oregon and Montana, and were contemplating a move into Alaska. Their initial target in Washington state were the small coastal communities along Hood Canal, but CMPB doesn’t seem to have gotten very far.^[21] That may have been because they had competition from local exhibitors. While CMPB was working to get established, John McGill was already showing films a couple of times a week in Port Orchard. Between those dates, however, he often took his projector and traveled to area meeting halls for additional performances, running cables off his automobile to power the show.^[22]

By Eric L. Flom – January 2025

Notes:
[1] Kathryn H. Fuller-Seeley and George Potamianos, “Introduction,” in Kathryn H. Fuller-Seeley (editor), Hollywood in the Neighborhood: Historical Case Studies of Local Moviegoing (Berkley: University of California Press – 2008), Page 12.
[2] Calvin Pryluck, “The Itinerant Movie Show and the Development of the Film Industry,” in Fuller-Seeley, Page 42.
[3] See Kathryn H. Fuller, At the Picture Show: Small-Town Audiences and the Creation of Movie Fan Culture (Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press – 1996), Page 7.
[4] “Edison’s Waragraph…,” Aberdeen Herald, 6 April 1899, Page 5.
[5] “The Harbor papers…,” The Mason County Journal, 21 April 1899, Page 3.
[6] See “The Warograph Coming,” Pullman Herald, 28 October 1899, Page 1; see also “Edison’s Waragraph [sic],” The Mason County Journal, 12 May 1899, Page 3; and “Burnett,” Seattle Daily Times, 24 June 1899, Page 7.
[7] “Dryad,” Seattle Daily Times, 18 January 1903, Page 22.
[8] See “Assemble at Lake,” Seattle Post-Intelligencer, 6 August 1903, Page 3; “Chautauqua Assembly,” Seattle Daily Times, 13 August 1903; “Fleming Bros. moving picture show…,” The Yakima Herald, 16 September 1903, Page 11; and “Fleming Bros…,” The Yakima Herald, 23 September 1903, Page 2.
[9] Van Ronk seems to have been associated with the group as far back as 1899, but was only now being elevated to name partner. See “Centralia Society,” Seattle Post-Intelligencer, 10 December 1899, Page 15.
[10] See “Fleming & Van Ronk…,” The San Juan Islander, 30 April 1904, Page 5; and “Quite a large crowd…,” The San Juan Islander, 14 May 1904, Page 1.
[11] “La Conner,” Seattle Post-Intelligencer, 6 December 1903, Page 24.
[12] “Illustrated Concert,” The Colfax Gazette, 8 January 1904, Page 7.
[13] “Moving Picture Show Coming,” Columbia Courier, 13 January 1905, Page 2.
[14] “The Steel & Freeland moving picture show…,” The Kennewick Courier, 1 December 1905, Page 5; see also “If you want to see something worthwhile…,” The Kennewick Courier, 24 November 1905, Page 4.
[15] “The Steel & Freeland moving picture show…,” Adams County News, 6 December 1905, Page 3.
[16] “The Steel and Freeland Illustrated Show Co. …,” The Leavenworth Echo, 22 December 1905, Page 3; see also Wenatchee Theatre advertisement, The Wenatchee Daily World, 20 December 1905, Page 4.
[17] Louis L. Goldsmith, “Seattle,” Moving Picture World, 9 September 1911, Page 723.
[18] “FOR SALE – Auto-electric lighted traveling motion picture show…,” Seattle Daily Times, 4 August 1912, Page 17.
[19] “Used a Trailer,” Moving Picture World, 18 April 1914, Page 352.
[20] “Automobile Power Plant,” Moving Picture World, 9 January 1915, Page 217.
[21] “Community Opens Office,” Moving Picture World, 31 January 1920, Page 746.
[22] “McGill is Smiling These Days,” Moving Picture World, 9 December 1922, Page 533.

Most traveling exhibitors, like the Flemings or Steel and Freeland, simply came and went over time – they were not around for the long haul. The exception, however, was Samuel “King” Kennedy, who transcended the itinerant nature of the business to become a regional celebrity in northeast Washington.^[1]

Born in Ontario in 1856, as a young man Kennedy attended a ventriloquism show at a local community hall. The process had him mesmerized – so much so that he cornered the performer afterwards to learn how it was done. That evening Kennedy learned some basic skills, which helped launch a lifelong career in entertainment. Samuel Kennedy practiced diligently, teaching himself to use a makeshift ventriloquist dummy and learning to throw his voice. At the same time, he pursued a side interest in magic and sleight-of-hand – skills that allowed him to eventually quit his job as a store clerk and travel rural Ontario with Scotch Anderson, a popular regional magician at the time.^[2]

It’s not clear when or why Samuel Kennedy moved West, but by the 1880s he owned a small plot of land outside Chelan, where he lived a double life. Kennedy spent the spring and summer months growing produce, like so many others in the area, which he sold at local markets. For this part of the year he had a quiet, agrarian lifestyle, living alone (Kennedy was a lifelong bachelor) and keeping a small set of personal and business acquaintances. Once the growing season was over, however, Samuel Kennedy transformed into “King” Kennedy. During the fall and winter months he boarded up the house, left Chelan and traveled throughout northeast Washington giving magic and ventriloquism shows. He sometimes gave more than 80 shows during these tours, riding alone in a horse-drawn wagon over makeshift roads and trails.

Kennedy’s time on the road was a testament to his love of performing. Conditions were rough, with poor weather and long distances between towns, all of which he navigated so he could perform in some of Washington’s smallest communities. The route could also be dangerous. He claimed never to have been robbed, but as a one-man outfit playing notorious mining towns like Ruby, he was certainly pushing his luck. Even the performance spaces could be treacherous. Once Kennedy gave a show in the upstairs meeting room of the Odd Fellows Hall in Chesaw, near the Canadian border, when the center of the floor began sagging during the performance. Shortly before his arrival, the townsfolk had removed some of the support posts in the space below so they could better accommodate community dances. But now, with a packed house in the upstairs pace, the weight of the audience caused the floor to droop, leading to momentary chaos, though the building remained structurally sound and no one was hurt. So Kennedy kept right on doing his show, though it was given to an audience that was pressed up against the side walls, clinging for dear life, leaving the center of the room completely empty.^[3]

King Kennedy operated much like the Fleming Brothers or Steel and Freeland. Because he was a one-man outfit, he announced play dates by mailing advance notices to local newspapers or meeting halls, letting them know when he intended to arrive and asking for help getting the word out. The performance spaces were as varied as the communities; Kennedy might play a formal theatre, a fraternal hall, a school or a church, whatever was available, and gave the house a cut of the box office for the opportunity. He didn’t have much competition – public entertainments were so few and far between in northeast Washington that he needn’t worry about whether his act would draw. He also didn’t need a place to stay, since there was always a local resident willing to put him up in return for free tickets. It was a routine that “King” Kennedy continued for so many years, over repeated fall/winter tours, that he ended up becoming a symbol of the season. Children were always his prime audience, but gradually, over time, those who once sat in the front row grew to become parents themselves, bringing their own children to his shows. “Those who have seen [King Kennedy] perform for years are always eager to see him again,” said the Quad City Herald before a 1913 engagement, “[and that’s] the strongest endorsement one can give.”^[4]

A King Kennedy performance drew on his early days in Ontario – ventriloquism, voice tricks and magic, with new material developed each year. Over time, however, he diversified the act by showing magic lantern slides at the end of each show, narrating the images as they were thrown onto a makeshift screen, usually in halls where electricity was not yet available. These slides eventually gave way to a hand-cranked movie projector. “An added feeling of suspense and interest stirred the audience as [Kennedy] prepared to put on the movie show,” described an attendee more than 70 years later. “First came final adjustments to the projector and screen. This was followed by ignition of the acetylene light source. Ever present was a faint smell of burning fuel and tiny wisps of smoke caught up in escaping gleams from brilliantly lighted carbon. Then came the reel changes. Finally, to the mechanical whirring of the hand-cranked projector, viewers [were] alerted to follow closely all of the flickering magic unfolding up front. [All the while,] Kennedy’s mellow and carefully-modulated voice described the action in a running commentary.”^[5]

Recounting the experience in 1972, Winifred K. Thomas was only 10 years old when her family moved to Conconully in 1912. She was absolutely delighted with her first King Kennedy show – so much so that she was willing to overlook the fact that her first moving picture experience was spoiled.

          “‘A large white cloth that looked like a sheet was put up in the front of the hall by the big boys from the eighth grade, lights were lowered and King Kennedy, at the back of the hall, began turning the hand crank of the projector.
          “‘Then we heard a strange, whirring noise like the ominous warning of a rattlesnake, followed by eerie, flickering images appearing on the white screen that soon changed to distinct pictures.
“‘We saw the magic of a man and woman and a child walking about; we saw their lips move as in conversation; we saw them smile, frown, shed tears. Then, suddenly, disappointingly, the screen became blank, there were no more pictures, and we were told that the film had broken.’”^[6]

Given the nature of Kennedy’s shows, it’s hard to know what kinds of pictures he was showing during these engagements, let alone where he sourced them. Since the films weren’t the main attraction, but rather a bonus, newspaper accounts mentioned them infrequently and almost never listed the titles. One of the few exceptions was an engagement at Conconully Hall in November 1908, where King Kennedy was showing more than 1,000 feet of new film – new to his audiences, perhaps, but not necessarily new. These included the Lubin films Animal Parade (1903), The Automobile Race (1904), The Counterfeiters (1905) and Fire in New York’s Bowery (also 1905), plus an additional short called The Ascension. Here, at least, King Kennedy appears to have been picking up older films (sometimes much older films) and seems to have been showing them with equipment that was equally dated.^[7] But, for children like Winifred Thomas, this would have been of little consequence.

Even as motion picture shows became more prevalent throughout Washington after 1910, King Kennedy had the good fortune of touring in areas where he was less likely to feel their impact, at least initially. He continued to tour annually, and continued to show films, but by World War I he was into his 60s and less able to travel as he once had. His annual play dates decreased and the crowds got smaller; by then, many of the stops he used to make were in towns that were getting their own moving picture theatres, so his act was as a nostalgic throwback. He celebrated his 50^th year in show business in 1923, but by then Kennedy’s health had deteriorated significantly. Having previously suffered a mild stroke, on July 9, 1925, Samuel “King” Kennedy died in Wenatchee after being found unconscious at his home in Chelan. His body was returned and buried in the Chelan Fraternal Cemetery. With no immediate heirs, his few possessions were auctioned off the following year. It was then that local children were “for the first time able to handle and closely view the [homemade] dolls that often seemed to them to really talk,” the Chelan Valley Mirror observed. “Perhaps to their surprise they discovered that the dolls were just made of wood and cloth. Lifeless things. It was Old King Kennedy’s Last Show.”^[8]

Indeed, it was – by 1925 performers like King Kennedy were a vanishing breed. While many film histories tend to focus on key cities or theatres, in reality it was men like King Kennedy, Steel and Freeland and the Fleming Brothers who were introducing moving pictures to most of America. Their work was instrumental, though not nearly as documented as the exhibitors and venues that displaced them. “Itinerant movie-show people played an important but largely forgotten role in the creation of substantial audiences for motion pictures outside the largest cities…,” Kathryn Fuller-Seeley has argued. “Itinerants attracted a small-town audience of middle-class and working-class families at a time when it appeared to many urban critics that middle-class vaudeville audiences had completely tired of films…”^[9]

By Eric L. Flom – January 2025

Notes:
[1] Information about Samuel “King” Kennedy comes from pair of articles: Barry George and Linda Norris, “Samuel ‘King’ Kennedy, Pioneer Rancher and the Foremost Entertainer of Okanogan County’s Pioneer Days,” Okanogan County Heritage, Fall 2014, Pages 6-10; and “King Kennedy: Pioneer Day Entertainer,” Okanogan County Heritage, Spring 1978, Pages 11-13.
[2] George and Norris, Page 9.
[3] Samuel “King” Kennedy from a 1924 interview, quoted in George and Norris, Pages 9-10.
[4] “King Kennedy is Coming,” Quad City Herald, 4 January 1913, Page 1.
[5] Lake Chelan History Notes, Spring 1978, Page 14; quoted in George and Norris, Page 9.
[6] See Okanogan County Heritage, Page 12. Winifred K. Thomas’ quote originally appeared in some recollections she provided to the Wenatchee World on November 10 and 11, 1972. Part of her claim, however, doesn’t square with the facts. Thomas recalled that King announced moving pictures as “a wonderful new invention” during his 1912 Conconully visit, but film was by no means new and had been part of his shows since at least 1907, and perhaps even earlier. Moreover, about a year before Thomas shared her thoughts with the Wenatchee World she told the same story to James E. Lindston, President of the Lake Chelan Historical Society. In that version, Kennedy’s film ended abruptly not because it broke, but because it caught fire. (See George and Norris, Page 9.)
[7] See George and Norris, Pages 7-8. Information on the 1908 Conconully engagement originally appeared in the Okanogan Record on November 20^th. In later years, during the teens, Kennedy upgraded his projection machinery and began showing multiple reel features – including, at one point, Cecil B. DeMille’s The Squaw Man. (See Lake Chelan History Notes, Spring 1978, Page 14.)
[8] Chelan Valley Mirror, 25 March 1926, quoted in George and Norris, Page 10.
[9] Kathryn H. Fuller, At the Picture Show: Small-Town Audiences and the Creation of Movie Fan Culture (Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press – 1996), Page 2.

Traveling shows were how movies were typically shown in rural Washington during the first years of the 20^th century, but that wasn’t necessarily the case in urban areas like Seattle, Tacoma or Spokane. In the state’s larger cities, movies were absorbed into family-style vaudeville, a form variety entertainment that Seattle, in particular, was helping popularize along the West Coast. With clean, live stage shows that catered to audiences of all ages, these storefront entertainment venues were a deliberate play for the emerging middle-class audience.

Moving pictures were rarely the main attraction in family-style vaudeville, but between 1901 and 1906, while traveling picture shows dominated the rural landscape, this was where urban audiences were typically seeing films. The pictures themselves were often slotted at the end of the live program, but that’s not to say that they were a lesser feature. These vaudeville establishments (and later, nickelodeons) didn’t operate like traditional theatres, where shows began at specific times. Instead, they operated more or less continuously, allowing the audience to turn up whenever they chose. So while it’s true that the films may have come last on the printed bill, it didn’t necessarily follow every patron watched the acts in the same order. Depending on when they arrived, the picture might be the first, the fifth or the final entertainment they saw.

The fact that family-style vaudeville put less emphasis on moving pictures probably worked in their favor. Part of the reason the Searchlight Circuit struggled was because they didn’t have enough program variety – the industry wasn’t yet structured to make or distribute films with high frequency. But in vaudeville, pictures weren’t expected to carry the load – they were just one of many acts, and a manager only needed a handful of selections each week to fill the spot. Films diversified the bill, were cost-effective and relatively uncomplicated to present. Unlike the live acts, they didn’t come with costumes or props, got along with stagehands and other performers, remained sober and (barring incident) arrived on time. Managing a vaudeville house was a logistical nightmare, so the film portion of the bill, while not always problem-free, offered fewer headaches than many other acts. They were rarely the headline attraction but nonetheless played a supporting role in a format that was drawing all types of patrons, including those who hadn’t seen or weren’t necessarily interested in the movies. “[T]he presentation of motion pictures in vaudeville theatres in the major cities of the United States hit at the heart of mainstream mass entertainment,” Douglas Gomery has written. “…Indeed, vaudeville presented the forum in which many urban Americans were introduced to the movies.”^[1]

Seattle would eventually be the origin of two of the nation’s largest vaudeville organizations, the Pantages and Sullivan/Considine Circuits. Coupled with the Orpheum Circuit out of San Francisco, the West Coast would eventually reshape the nature of American stage entertainment. But in the first few years of the 20^th century, at least, the Northwest vaudeville market was populated by regional players. One was Le Petit Vaudeville Circuit, which had houses in Seattle, Tacoma, Everett and Whatcom (Bellingham); the Seattle house was located at 222 Pike Street. A. Sidney Rhorer managed this circuit, with Mose Goldsmith as booking agent. The Le Petit venue in Seattle opened in May or June 1902, right around the time that James McConahey’s Searchlight closed, and was advertised as “Seattle’s only high-class Vaudeville Theatre.” For the week of June 16^th, for example, the show was headlined by “The Australian Prima Donna,” whomever that was – the house boasted she was “the greatest of her race,” which suggests she was an indigenous singer. Live acts held the spotlight at Le Petit, but each of their bills included “new comical and magical moving pictures.” These were rarely identified, though one bill from January 1903 featured George Méliès’ A Trip to the Moon, “the beautiful picture story.”^[2]

Historian David Dilgard wrote about Everett’s Le Petit Theatre in his book Milltown Footlights.^[3] Under the management of Robert Alexander Grant, the venue opened on January 10, 1903, offering shows for 10 cents per person. Located at 2008 Hewitt Avenue, the theatre offered a new bill every Monday, with shows that were suitable for the entire family. (Though not suitable enough, apparently, for the Baptist minister whose church was a short distance away.) “Offering such novel attractions as Lando the Human Snake, a six-year-old song & dance artist named Baby Kelly, and Miss Emma Laurence, the Champion Woman Bag Puncher, the venture was an apparent success from the beginning.”^[4] Motion pictures, along with illustrated songs, were part of this mix. Unfortunately the Le Petit Vaudeville Circuit, like the Searchlight Circuit before it, was a short-lived venture. A. Sidney Rhorer died in 1903, with business control going to his widow, though she doesn’t seem to have operated it for long. The Seattle house vanished from the city directory after 1904, though Dilgard notes the Everett location hung on into 1905.

A similar entertainment venue was established by the Edison Display Co., a phonograph supply shop located at 1410 Second Avenue in Seattle. In May 1902, Edison Display began offering a bill of live acts as well as “moving pictures, illustrated songs, dissolving views and colored slides.” At a cost of 10 cents per person, shows ran continuously from 2:30 p.m. to 5:00 p.m., with evening performances between 7:30 p.m. and 10:00 p.m., with a complete change of program every Saturday.^[5] Later, in 1903, John Considine bought a half-interest in the Edison Display Co. for $2,000 and began operating it as Edison’s Unique, a venue that ran until at least 1905. He eventually expanded the small circuit to include locations in Everett, Tacoma, Bellingham, North Yakima, Portland, Victoria and Vancouver.^[6]

According to the New York Clipper, in June 1902 there were at least five houses in Seattle offering family-style vaudeville shows, and most of those likely included motion pictures on their bills. These included the People’s Theatre, Le Petit, the Grotto, Star Music Hall and Bijou Theatres.^[7] The notice makes no mention of the Edison Display Co., and only Le Petite was specifically called out for offering motion pictures. But something similar was happening over in Spokane: by 1905 the city had at least four small theatres specializing in live acts, with movies also part of those programs. These included the Cineograph at 419 Riverside and the Edison at 808 Riverside, near the old Searchlight location.^[8]

Because moving pictures in urban areas were getting absorbed into vaudeville bills, it’s difficult to determine what audiences were seeing at the time. Seattle’s Le Petit headlined A Trip to the Moon in 1903, but showcasing a film by name was the exception and not the rule. Print ads for these houses usually detailed the featured live acts, and while the pictures may have been “new” they were rarely identified – by name or by subject matter. But thanks to the J. Willis Sayre Collection at the University of Washington, it’s possible to get a glimpse of what some of these audiences were viewing, at least in the latter part of the decade. Sayre was a longtime theatrical critic and promoter in Seattle whose career spanned more than half a century.^[9] In his capacity as a drama critic, Sayre regularly attended the various stage and vaudeville shows passing through the city and amassed a huge collection of theatrical programs and publicity stills. He even purchased programs from older shows or typed out a record of certain theatrical engagements when no program was issued or known to exist. Eventually, with records spanning 80-plus years, he indexed the entire collection, categorizing the material by play and player, such that a present-day researcher can pinpoint where, when and how often certain shows or performers appeared in Seattle between the 1880s and 1950s.

Although Sayre liked to boast that the collection was an unbroken record of every theatrical engagement to play Seattle, he made no effort to collect the type of handbills or broadsides used to promote small, family-style vaudeville houses like Le Petit or Edison’s Unique (or the Searchlight, for that matter). His focus was on established theatrical venues (or at least the ones he considered established), so while storefront vaudeville houses aren’t represented, he religiously collected material from Seattle’s larger venues such as the Orpheum and the Pantages. It’s through his work that we can find a short period, from April 1906 to December 1908, when, for whatever reason, Seattle’s larger vaudeville houses not only screened films but listed what they were showing in their weekly programs. Both before and after this 31-month window it was more common for houses to simply indicate where motion pictures fell on the bill, without necessarily specifying what they would be. That would generally be the practice until the mid-teens, when these houses began showing longer films that, by that time, had their own marketing value.

The data from this 31-month period is impressive. Five of Seattle’s vaudeville theatres are part of the sample, though only two of them – the Star and the Orpheum – listed films for the entire 31 months. By no means, however, was this consistent. Programs for the Star, for example, listed at least one film title in 108 of the 135 weeks covered, while the Orpheum listed at least one in 96 of 135 weeks. The three other houses listed their films over shorter periods. Programs for the Coliseum only printed film titles for about 11 months – 24 weeks in which they did, and 24 weeks in which they did not. The Pantages listed films for only about 10 months, between October 1907 and August 1908, but printed the titles in only 19 of 42 weeks. And finally there was the Lois, which technically wasn’t a vaudeville house at all. The Lois was a stock theatre operated by Alexander Pantages – a companion house to his Pantages Theatre, located half a block away on Second Avenue. In the summer of 1907, after the Lois’ resident stock company wrapped their season, the Lois opened a 15-week run of vaudeville shows and showed motion pictures in at least 13 of those weeks. Then, at the end of this run, Alexander Pantages installed a new stock theatre company at the Lois and the venue returned to its prior format.

Right off the bat it’s clear that these houses weren’t listing every film they showed in a given week – some programs listed only one, while others listed two or three. All told, 369 pictures were listed by name over the 31-month period between April 1906 and December 1908. Most were shown only one time, at a single house, during a week-long run, though it wasn’t unusual for the Star to show a picture that eventually turned up at the Orpheum or Pantages a few weeks later. Sometimes the tables were turned, but by and large the Star seems to have shown pictures first, with repeat engagements, if any, occurring at Seattle’s other vaudeville houses. It was rare for a film to play a venue and then come back for a repeat screening. When the Orpheum showed Biograph’s A Friend in Need is a Friend Indeed in May 1906, and it turned up again three months later, one has to think that the film was either very popular or the house’s booking service made a mistake.

Of the 369 different films identified in these vaudeville programs, 320 (nearly 87%) can be traced to individual manufacturers, while 49 (including several documentary subjects) cannot. In addition, 58 (about 16%) of the named films were eventually shown again at one or more vaudeville houses as repeat engagements.^[10]

Most of the films playing Seattle theatres at the time were made by Pathé – nearly 30% of the films seen, in fact, where Pathé releases. Vitagraph was the nearest competitor, with nearly 17% of all identified titles, while films that could not be traced to a production company accounted for nearly 11% of the total. Some of the most prominent early manufacturers were underrepresented on Seattle vaudeville screens – Edison (8.4%), Gaumont (7.2%), Biograph (3.5%), Lubin (3.2%), Selig (3%) and Kalem (2%).

This data generally falls in line with Richard Abel’s research in The Red Rooster Scare – the film market during the 1906-1908 timeframe, at least in Seattle’s larger vaudeville houses, was dominated by Pathé releases. The company was, in fact, the leading supplier of films to America by 1905, so it was nicely positioned to capitalize on the impending nickelodeon boom – or at least it was in a better position than most American manufacturers. Pathé, in fact, may have had as much as 60% of the U.S. film market by 1908, leading some exhibitors (and the emerging trade press) to advocate for choosing U.S. over French product. Not only should American theatres support American filmmakers, the argument went, but Pathé subjects were deemed inferior because they didn’t always reflect American tastes.^[11] Responding to this criticism, the country’s growing network of film exchanges, the new distribution arm of the business, began carrying more American-made films in their catalogs. By 1910 Pathé had lost much of its U.S. market share as these firms were deliberately emphasizing home-grown product – something that audiences responded to, in part, because they were seeing more of themselves onscreen.

Two surprises from the Seattle vaudeville data were that documentary films (scenics and events, such as highlights from the 1908 World Series) accounted for less than 2% of the total, and none of those films could be traced to an individual manufacturer. Earlier, on the Searchlight Circuit, there were relatively few narrative films being shown – the balance had now completely reversed. In addition, only one film by George Méliès, one of cinema’s most important pioneers, made the list. This was his (very) loose adaptation of Jules Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, identified in programs as Under the Sea, which played the Star Theatre in July 1907 and then the Orpheum six weeks later. Another interesting fact is that the data shows a lack of what might be considered “classic” films from this period. With the exception of Sigmund Lubin’s The Unwritten Law, which played the Star Theatre in April 1907, and the Vitagaph releases Humorous Phases of Funny Faces (1906) and Lightning Sketches (1907), there are few titles we might now consider to be significant releases. (In fairness, the majority of films made during this period no longer exist, so there’s an argument to be made that a “classic” film is only classic because we’re still able to see it.) An exception is the fact that director Edwin S. Porter’s work was well-represented amongst the Edison films screened. Nine Porter releases were among the 34 Edison films shown in Seattle vaudeville houses, and included such titles as Getting Evidence and The Terrible Kids (both 1906), Cohen’s Fire Sale, Jack the Kisser and The “Teddy” Bears (1907), and The Boston Tea Party, The Face on the Bar-Room Floor and Tales the Searchlight Told (1908).

By the end of this 31-month window, in December 1908, the Pacific Northwest was well into its nickelodeon boom, which ran slightly behind the craze on the East Coast. By then urban audiences in cities like Seattle, Tacoma and Spokane had a wide array of entertainment choices in the nickelodeon space, which in many ways was the next iteration of family-style vaudeville. These theatres also balanced live acts with movies, though nickelodeons put much more emphasis on the film portion of the bill. An example is Seattle’s Odeon Theatre, which opened in the fall of 1907.

By Eric L. Flom – January 2025

Notes:
[1] Douglas Gomery, Shared Pleasures: A History of Movie Presentation in the United States (Madison, WI: The University of Wisconsin Press – 1992), Pages 13 and 15.
[2] See Le Petit Theatre advertisements, Seattle Daily Times, 16 June 1902, Page 5; 16 July 1902, Page 5; and 22 January 1903, Page 5.
[3] See David Dilgard, Milltown Footlights (Everett, WA: Everett Public Library – 2001), Pages 30, 73-75 and 103.
[4] Dilgard, Page 74.
[5] See Edison’s Unique advertisements, Seattle Daily Times, 22 May 1902, Page 4; and 16 July 1902, Page 5.
[6] See Eugene Clinton Elliott, A History of Variety-Vaudeville in Seattle: From the Beginning to 1914 (Seattle: University of Washington Press – 1944), Page 52.
[7] See “Washington,” New York Clipper, 21 June 1902, Page 374.
[8] See appendix to “Table 6: Spokane Theatres 1905-1915,” in Holly George, Show Town: Theatre and Culture in the Pacific Northwest, 1890-1920 (Norman, OK: University of Oklahoma Press – 2016), Pages 190-191.
[9] For more information on J. Willis Sayre and his collection of theatrical programs and photographs, see Eric L. Flom, Silent Film Stars on the Stages of Seattle: A History of Performances by Hollywood Notables (Jefferson, NC: McFarland & Company, Inc. – 2009), Pages 7-14.
[10] Data compiled from the accumulated vaudeville programs of the Orpheum, Star, Pantages, Coliseum and Lois Theatres in Seattle between April 1906 and December 1908, J. Willis Sayre Collection, University of Washington Special Collections.
[11] See Richard Abel, The Red Rooster Scare: Making Cinema American, 1900-1910 (Berkley: University of California Press), Pages xi and 48-49.