Once rejected, this urban community unites for the future

By VANESSA HO
SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER REPORTER

For decades, the small, diverse neighborhood of Judkins Park languished from neglect. Streets filled with boarded-up homes, and vacant lots filled with brambles and trash. No one but dealers, prostitutes and car thieves considered Judkins Park prime business turf.

Among the area's long list of woes were bungled urban renewal, middle-class flight and the construction of Interstate 90, which tore through the neighborhood and wiped out hundreds of homes. Governmental help trickled in, if at all, prompting bitter residents to name their community "Rejected." It later became Judkins-Rejected, a name that remained until last year.

Lately, however, an economic renaissance is flourishing. The air fills auspiciously with the sounds of hammers and saws as new homes are built. Cash registers chime at Walgreens at 23rd Avenue South and Jackson Street, a corner that had three empty lots for 25 years. New tennis courts beckon from a city park, a summer festival delivers reggae and blues, and a tree-lined pedestrian trail is scheduled to open this year.

"The community is starting to rejuvenate, to show signs of vitality and vibrancy," says George Staggers, CEO of the non-profit Central Area Development Association.

Historically an Italian neighborhood nicknamed "garlic gulch," Judkins Park once boasted a successful commercial core. Gai's Northwest Bakery on South Weller Street is a relic of those times. Established by Italian immigrant Giglio Gai, the bakery has been wafting the hearty smell of baking bread for more than 50 years. Customers can still buy freshly baked rolls and loaves at the bakery's thrift store.

Dolores Bradley, a community activist long known as the hell-raising grandmother of the neighborhood, remembers the prosperous commerce of yesteryear.

"There was a shoe repair shop up there and a fabric store here," she says, strolling Jackson Street on a chilly afternoon. She was 23 when she and her husband bought their home in 1946 with a GI loan. Now 73, she can still picture the old soda fountains, the department stores, and the cable cars that carried her to Chinatown.

"Everything was right here," she says.

Continued:

• I-90 decimated the neighborhood, but residents rebuilt it
• Bureaucratic snafus kept area in limbo
• Diversity and location are drawing new residents
• Neighbors have kept the faith alive