Within a few years of moving ‘uptown’ to the Cornwall Avenue store, Bellingham’s downtown retail core took a serious hit from the opening of the Bellis Fair Mall. Constructed in the north part of the city right off the I-5 freeway, it was closer and more accessible to the all-important Canadian shoppers who flocked into town on weekends. The large national ‘anchors’ (Sears, Penneys and Nordstrom) all relocated to the mall leaving huge vacancies downtown, and many smaller businesses subsequently moved or just closed up shop over a period of about two years.

As a destination retailer and one of only three record stores in Bellingham, business for Cellophane Square remained good, though we were still paying top dollar for rent and the landlords weren’t offering any ‘economic downturn reductions’ when our lease came up for renewal.

As it happened, the downturn had also knocked out an enormous, long-standing Army-Navy Surplus store on the corner of Magnolia Street and Railroad Avenue about two blocks away from our Cornwall location. At approximately 5000 square feet, the space was ridiculously large by our standards – approaching Tower Records scale. It had originally been built for a car dealership in the 1940s and was pretty much a wide open space with rows of metal support posts in the middle, and tons of large windows down 2 sides of the classic old building which let in plenty of natural light. It was an awesome retail space, brimming with vintage character.

It was also ridiculously cheap, and Cellophane’s owners scored a long-term lease with no restrictions on the tenant improvements required to turn it into a Cellophane Square. I was absolutely delighted with this development – the building had a funky elegance to it, much more in keeping with my aesthetic than the Cornwall store. And the space was a vast blank canvas where I envisioned a small stage for in-stores, multiple customer listening stations, ample storage space for melts, extra store fixtures and equipment, and a private office/meeting room for the owners. And displays, displays, displays!

Above: The in-store performance stage under construction (left), and the ‘coming soon’ storefront before the big awning went up.

Below: Early computer art.

The move to Magnolia & Railroad was the first truly sizable tenant improvement project I took on. By 1988 I had become well-versed in carpentry and building, starting with mentorship from Roy in the U-District store building record shelves and the like, and continuing with remodeling projects on my own home in Seattle. The owners, knowing a good thing when they saw it, acknowledged my skills and entrusted me with the remodeling of the old Army-Navy store - saving themselves a ton of money in the process since I was already on salary at considerably less than a ‘real’ contractor would cost.

I saw this as a mutually beneficial arrangement since I loved building stuff and was essentially getting to create a new store from scratch. It also temporarily took me away from my day-to-day regional management duties of hiring, firing, evaluating, meeting, greeting and writing reports – many responsibilities that would go to an HR person today and stressful work that I was more than happy to have a break from.

With the rent so cheap and the existing Cornwall store still doing business, I had a fairly relaxed timeline and a generous budget to work with. The new store was obviously a huge project and I wasn’t 100% schooled in building construction quite yet (that came later when we moved the U-District store in ’94), so I lobbied the owners to let me enlist Wayne as my right-hand man, and they agreed. He was working as a freelance carpenter and handyman in his post-Cellophane career and was happy to take on a large job even if it was 90 miles from home – for him it also meant being back in the stores and the option of partial payment in records!

Above: The Magnolia & Railroad ‘Cellophane Mega-Store’ before & after setup.

It was great having Wayne back in the fold (see TRSY Chapter 42), and the entire experience of setting up the Magnolia & Railroad store was a high point for me in my Cellophane career. I would get up early, pick Wayne up at his home in Seattle’s Greenwood neighborhood, and after a stop for coffee & doughnuts we’d hit the road for the ninety-minute drive to Bellingham, cranking up the tunes, talking music & power tools – coupla bros having a good ol’ time. The fun extended into our workdays, doing lumber runs together and buying new tools on Cellophane’s dime that were needed for the project; sawing, hammering and nailing for a few hours and then hitting the road back to Seattle with more coffee and a fat doobie to improve the drive (just to be clear, I don’t do that anymore, at least when I’m driving!)

For the initial construction phase of demo’ing the old Army/Navy shelving I recruited labor through the store’s employees, resulting in a crew of young women – friends and girlfriends of the staff – which pleased us both to no end. And as the project moved out of demo and into construction, I recall many lumber runs with loads of 2x4s, cedar lattice and T1-11 plywood, music continuously cranked over the construction noise, endless cups of coffee and frequent smoke breaks. It was a blast!

Above: Patty, who was a bandmate of Dave Crider’s and posed for this Estrus single sleeve, was one of the young women who helped with the demolition.

The list of jobs required for the project included, but were not limited to, the following:

1) Construct sills and backing for display spaces in eight windows measuring 8’ each.

2) Construct an elevated ‘stage’ for in-stores at the front corner of the building, approximately 8’ by 10’ in size.

3) Construct a partition wall across the back of the space (approximately 50 feet) to create a stock/back room area with locking doors.

4) Construct a buy counter on the north wall of the retail area.

5) Wall off an area of the existing back room for a private office/conference room & finish the interior with carpet and ‘luxury’ fittings.

6) Construct stockroom shelving and work table space for 30-day hold, display assembly, etc.

7) Construct storage shelves for the melts capable of accommodating thousands of records.

8) Paint the place, move in a shitload of new racks and buy/set up a bunch of new speakers and stereo gear for listening stations and in-store music play for a 4000 square-foot sales floor. The multiple speakers sounded awesome cranked up in the big empty space during construction, incidentally.

All of that went along with the usual jobs inherent in setting up a new store – bringing in product, interior and exterior signage (in this case an enormous and expensive awning), rack divider cards, security systems, safe, employee break area, etc. etc. There was a lot on my plate but I had good support from the owners and other managers in the company, and my 32-year old energy level was up to the task.

Above: ST stocking the racks prior to opening day (left), and the completed store shortly after opening for business.

One early Sunday morning I happened to be working alone, wearing my toolbelt and hanging floor joists for the in-store stage right by the unlocked front door. An enthusiastic Jehovah’s Witness type – a woman well-known to the downtown community for her endless streetcorner proselytizing – threw the front door open, looked me in the eye and shouted, “Jesus!. . .” [pause] “Was a carpenter!”

Don’t know why but I always remember that moment. It seemed like a good omen.

NEXT: Bellingham Gets On The Map

Above: The Magnolia & Railroad Cellophane ‘mega store’ Before and after.

Below: Is that Johnny’s dog??