Frederick's family feeling lives on with lunch bunch

It had the best gun shop in town, says Henry Allen.

Employees were treated like family, says Les Albright.

It was a place where a stock boy and an elevator girl could fall in love, provided he shot enough rubber bands to get her attention, say Al and Vicky Wolfe.

Memories will be flying fast and furious Thursday at a gathering of former employees of Frederick & Nelson, Seattle's longtime grande dame of department stores, which was 102 when it closed in 1992. After a $100 million renovation, the store on Pine Street between Fifth and Sixth avenues reopened in 1998 as Nordstrom's flagship location.

Countless Seattle shoppers have memories of Frederick & Nelson's most visible features: Santa in his Sixth Avenue window, the smiling doorman, the formal tearoom. But the recollections of insiders touch deep into the heart of the institution and the bonds created there.

"Each day, just before opening, the president and three or four vice presidents would be down on the first floor, making sure everything was just right and talking to the employees. They knew everyone by name ... a real hometown feel," says Al Wolfe, 61, of Bellevue. In a 33-year career beginning in 1959, Wolfe worked as a stock boy, runner, driver, menswear buyer, dispatcher and fill-in doorman.

And, yes, he did shoot rubber bands in the subbasement stock area to catch the eye of a Jackie Kennedy look-alike, Vicky, now 59. She started as Santa's helper and worked in a package-routing office before reaching the sought-after position of "elevator girl." The two met at the store in 1961, married in 1963 and she left the store in 1964, pregnant with the first of their two children.

Vicky Wolfe remembers the elevator operators "were all about the same size and all had dark hair." One perk of the position was a free weekly visit to the fifth-floor beauty salon.

"As elevator girls," she says, "we didn't just take people from floor to floor. We could answer every question they had." Although she loved dealing with the public, it wasn't always easy. "As I look back now, I see we were open to a lot of stuff. There were some kind of nut cases that came by, and I don't think the public knew about it."

Don't forget the Frangos

More than 150 former employees are expected for the annual reunion luncheon at the Best Western Executive Inn. Jan Perry, a buyer for most of his 22 years with the store, says this is the 16th annual gathering of a group that often calls itself RFQ, for Retirees, Firees and Quitters. Others trace its roots back to smaller gatherings as early as the 1970s.

Two Frederick & Nelson regulars — Santa and Frangos — will be on hand, Perry said. A supply of the chocolate confection that was nearly synonymous with the store has been donated by its current maker, Frederick's Fine Chocolates of Kent.

No matter how many people show up, Henry Allen of Gig Harbor figures he'll be the oldest. "These days, I'm the oldest wherever I go," says Allen, who'll turn 98 on Christmas Day.

Allen worked for the store from 1950 to 1965 and helped install the sporting-goods department in 1951. "We dominated in the gun business, with two mechanics working in our gun shop." Fishing tackle was also a big seller, along with camping supplies and other outdoor gear.

Putting sporting goods on the fourth floor was a calculated move, Allen says.

"They put us up there because they wanted to get more men in the store and they didn't want them to just duck in. "We had luggage on one side of us, toys on the other, and boys' clothing was across the aisle."

A singular collection

Les Albright, 80, always gets a fair amount of attention at these gatherings, not just because he's a 30-year store employee, but because he's a collector. In 10 three-ring binders he'll bring to the event, Albright has more than 250 issues of the company in-house newsletter, "Between Ourselves," dating back to 1932.

He also has more than 80 colorful buttons and badges from store promotions and special events and a cast-iron, 14-inch-tall doorstop made in the image of William Stine, the store's last doorman.

Albright drove the store's trademark dark-green vans, first for deliveries to customers' homes and later from the downtown store to smaller stores in the suburbs.

"We had a schedule you could almost set your clock by," he recalls. "I used to go over to Bellevue a lot and one of the toll collectors would say, 'Must be my break time, here comes Frederick & Nelson.' "

The store's top officers, Albright said, set an egalitarian tone that fostered respect and cooperation. Employees also played together, on baseball teams, at golf tournaments and in a storewide bowling league.

In Albright's "Between Ourselves" collection, the oldest newsletter is dated December 1932, with Santa's smiling face on the cover and an opening letter that reads as if it could have been written today.

In that Depression-era message, company President William St. Clair exhorted his staff: "It has taken courage and patience to maintain interest and fortitude in a trying year such as we are just closing, but we have gained experience which will be very valuable."

Jack Broom: jbroom@seattletimes.com or 206-464-2222.