North Williams and Russell Street in 1962. (File photo)

Tourists who seek out (or stumble upon) North Williams Avenue typically love what they find: bike lanes and yoga studios, trendy restaurants and gleaming new buildings.

Some longtime residents, however, view the scene differently. They see North Williams as one of the city's foremost examples of gentrification, an affront to those who liked Portland the way it was in its more affordable, more working-class days.

And that opinion has an even stronger hold on this strip than on other rapidly redeveloping local streets -- in part because, through much of the 20th century, Williams was central to the African-American community in the surrounding Albina district. Discriminatory real-estate practices kept minorities out of many Portland neighborhoods for decades.

Albina has had various, intersecting incarnations over the years. It was a bustling industrial area, with a large bread factory looming over Williams Avenue. Jazz clubs dominated for decades, a draw for legendary musicians like Thelonius Monk and B.B. King. And now it's a mixed, but increasingly upscale, residential neighborhood, packed with high-rise condos and pricey ramen shops.

How has the street changed over the decades? We offer a photographic tour below.

Don't Edit

George Henry Williams (Library of Congress)

The Albina neighborhood used to be its own city.

In 1891, residents voted for East Portland and Albina to join Portland, stretching the Rose City to the east side of the Willamette River. Albina had incorporated only four years earlier, but at the time of the consolidation it was Oregon's fastest-growing burgh.

Albina's founders, points out Jewell Lansing in "Portland: People, Politics, and Power, 1851-2001," were Edwin Russell (an English aristocrat), George Henry Williams (a former U.S. senator and U.S. attorney general who would serve as Portland's mayor from 1902 to 1905) and William Page (whose daughter's first name was Albina).

Don't Edit

August Storz Grocery at 2211 N. Williams Ave. in 1910. (The Oregonian)

Early residents of Albina were predominantly Irish, Scandinavian, German and Russian immigrants, many of whom worked at the Portland and Vancouver Railway yards.

"Until the 1940s," the journalist Carl Gohs wrote in 1968, "it was a distinct and proud middle- and lower-class Caucasian district."

Don't Edit

The Albina Engine & Machine Works in the 1930s. (The Oregonian)

Albina in the early 20th century was known for being home to garbage dumps. Is it a coincidence that one of the area's local bands of ruffians was called the Sewer Gang?

A 1921 letter to the editor in The Oregonian suggested that the city's various young troublemakers had decent citizens worried, pointing out that clashes between the Slabtown, Goose Hollow and Sewer gangs "made life difficult for innocent bystanders."

Don't Edit

The Oregonian

The Immaculate Heart of Mary Parish at 2926 N. Williams Ave. was constructed in 1890 when Albina was still its own city. The wooden building, the church states, "is a fine example of Victorian Gothic Revival architecture reminiscent of English and French Gothic cathedrals."

Don't Edit

Don't Edit

A detail of the icons near the altar at Immaculate Heart Church. (The Oregonian)

The Immaculate Heart parish has changed with the surrounding community over the years, the church writes. "The original parish was founded by mostly those of German and Irish descent," a historical note posted outside the building states. "During the 1940s and 1950s the parish welcomed the many African-Americans, many of whom came to Portland to work in the shipyards as part of the World War II effort. Today the parish is truly a multicultural parish and serves a community with members from Europe, Asia, Africa as well as African-American, Asian-American and South & European American."

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

By the 1920s, North Williams Avenue had become one of Albina's major commercial thoroughfares and was home to many thriving factories.

One of those thriving business concerns was a large bakery at Fremont and Williams. When the first loaves came out of the ovens in 1929, they were presented to Portland Mayor George Baker. The Oregonian reported that the new "Wonder" bread "is baked by an entirely new process which is much slower than has been in use before ... and retains the food values and flavors."

The Wonder Bread complex operated for decades.

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

In Wonder Bread advertisements in the 1950s, nutritionist Dr. Marietta Eichelberger heralded the work being done at bakeries such as the one on North Williams in Portland. "The efficiency and cleanliness are evident everywhere," she said in the ads. "The greatest care taken in the baking of Wonder Bread convinced me that it's the best bread made today."

Portland's Wonder Bread Bakery shuttered in 2000. The building was demolished a few years later.

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

After World War II and the 1948 Vanport flood, with African-Americans kept out of many parts of Portland through discriminatory real-estate practices known as "redlining," Albina became the center of the city's black community, with North Williams Avenue known as "the Black Broadway."

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

The old Eliot School building, on Knott Street just a couple hundred feet east of North Williams Avenue, was turned into a community center in 1951, "with a full schedule of gymnasium and recreational activities." It would be replaced by the Matt Dishman Community Center.

Don't Edit

Don't Edit

Matt Dishman Community Center (The Oregonian)

The Knott Street Boxing Club started in the basement of the community center in 1951, states a historical marker on North Williams Avenue. It adds: "The Knott Street boxing program brought the national spotlight to the city during the 1950s through the 1970s with one of the most successful amateur boxing programs in the country."

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

Across the street from the Dishman Community Center is the boarded-up main building for Portland General Electric's east-side distribution station, built in 1906.

At the time PGE acquired the building, The Oregonian reported that the company was swiftly moving to erect "handsome buildings" to meet growing residential and industrial demand in the city.

"From this point," the newspaper wrote, "all of the power on the East Side, except for St. Johns, will be distributed. This includes not only the power for lights, but also for the operation of the cars of the Portland Railway on the East Side."

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

The March for Jobs and Freedom drew more than 200,000 Americans to Washington, D.C., in August 1963. Martin Luther King Jr. gave his iconic "I Have a Dream" speech at the rally.

The Northwest sent dozens of people to the march, and when they returned, hundreds turned out at Albina's Dawson Park to welcome them.

"The busload of marchers, which arrived in Portland about 6 a.m. Sunday, reached the park at 1:40 p.m.," The Oregonian wrote on Sept. 2, 1963. "Its cargo of marchers, including 15 from the Seattle area, disembarked and sang en route to a platform erected on the N. Vancouver Avenue side of the park."

"We are in a revolution," Seattle marcher Eddie Givens said at the park. "We are in a war. It is a peaceful war against bigotry, and we will win."

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

The two-acre Dawson Park on North Williams Avenue remains a popular meeting place for the city's African-American community even as the surrounding neighborhood has dramatically changed.

"We used to have more places," food-truck chef Loren Green told The Oregonian in 2016. "I used to be able to walk down this street. Dawson Park is all we have now."

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

Construction of the East Bank I-5 freeway in the 1960s reshuffled parts of the Albina neighborhood. This photo shows the freeway passing under Vancouver Avenue and other east-side streets.

Despite the freeway and controversial urban-renewal projects during this period, North Williams remained a key commercial street.

Don't Edit

Don't Edit

Photo by Allen de Lay (historicphotoarchive.net)

On his first trek into the Albina district for a 1968 story for Northwest magazine, the journalist Carl Gohs noticed "a sign in large letters painted on the window of the state employment office [on Williams] -- 'We're Helping Ourselves.' I was unaware of it at the moment, but more and more as I would walk and talk and look and listen throughout Albina, that sign would come to represent almost a district philosophy."

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

"In the 1950s and '60s, landlords and banks barred African Americans from renting or owning outside the inner-city, but they made something of the discrimination," The Oregonian's Casey Parks wrote in 2016. "Black-owned bars and restaurants lined Williams." It became known simply as "the avenue."

Don't Edit

Police riot squad near Northeast Grand and Fremont in 1967. (The Oregonian)

Riots swept through African-American neighborhoods across the U.S. in the late 1960s, and Albina was not immune.

One of the reasons, the Oregon Historical Quarterly wrote: "The manifest power of residential segregation, urban-renewal bulldozers, and police harassment and brutality prompted many black urbanites in Albina, and nationwide, to think of themselves as living in a colony subject to external rule."

The physical damage from the unrest proved long-lasting and further degraded the Albina neighborhood, which was already suffering from a dearth of both private investment and civic attention.

"Nearly 12.5 percent of fires caused by faulty electric wiring for the entire city took place within [the central Albina district] and 17 percent of the calls resulting from faulty heating system were reported there," The Oregonian reported in 1967.

Don't Edit

Side-by-side houses served as "before and after" examples of rehabilitation efforts. (The Oregonian)

In the 1960s, the Albina Neighborhood Improvement Project sought to rehabilitate residences around North Williams Avenue.

Not everyone thought the effort was worthwhile.

"I think they should push down every house that's standing and begin all over again," The Oregonian quoted a "war -on-poverty fighter" as saying in 1967.

At the time, home prices in the area ranged from $4,000 to $12,000, "but the $12,000 homes are few."

Don't Edit

Paul Knauls in 1979. (Oregonian file photo)

"Geneva's lounge at 4228 N. Williams Ave. occupied an important place in Portland's black community long before it became famous as an after-practice hangout for professional basketball players and as the scene of a traffic-choking crowd of happy fans the afternoon the Blazers won the NBA championship two years ago," The Oregonian wrote in 1979.

Blazers players weren't the only celebs to go to the nightclub. Boxing champions Archie Moore and Muhammad Ali, as well as various actors coming through town, reportedly visited Geneva's.

"You can even go to Washington, D.C., and mention Geneva's, and people will have been there," Geneva's owner Paul Knauls said.

Don't Edit

Don't Edit

Local 1970s columnist Mike Dolan wrote that Geneva's, named after Paul Knauls' wife, was "a classy restaurant and lounge that turns a profit in an area of town where some businessmen have had trouble getting bank financing and keeping their businesses going."

Knauls had previously managed and then co-owned The Cotton Club, which The Oregonian called "one of Portland's most famous nightclubs." That popular establishment, which attracted top national performers in its heyday, closed in 1970. Said Knauls of its demise: "When the revolution came, whites didn't want to be where the blacks were and blacks didn't want to be where the whites were, so everybody left."

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

In 1986, Geneva's was ravaged by a fire, destroying most of the interior of the two-story building. Geneva Knauls called the fire "devastating."

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

The Eliot Energy House, "Northeast Portland's model for urban energy conservation," opened in 1983. The project, at 3116 N. Williams Ave., was the brainchild of the non-profit group Responsible Urban Neighborhood.

The group offered tours of the house "for those interested in seeing what conservation features can be used in other Portland homes," The Oregonian wrote. "These include an enclosed front porch to prevent winter heat loss, a 'cold cupboard' in the kitchen's north wall to reduce refrigeration by electricity, and ducts from the attic greenhouse for warming both water and downstairs rooms."

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

The Albina district was upended by the construction of I-5 and Memorial Coliseum, as well as a plan to expand Emanuel Hospital that resulted in homes and businesses being demolished, "pushing out approximately 300 residents." The "Stop the Destruction" sign at the corner of North Williams Avenue and Northeast Knott Street is part of The Historic Black Williams Project, created by local artists Cleo Davis and Kayin Talton Davis to celebrate the rich history of Portland's African-American community in Northeast Portland.

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

The Historic Black Williams Project seeks to keep North Williams Avenue's African-American history alive through public-art installations on the street.

"Many of the landmarks are no longer around and our friends' families no longer live in the area," the project's artists, Cleo Davis and Kayin Talton Davis, say on the project's website. "We grew up with stories about the Maxeys and the old crew on Gantenbein, going to Hank's Dairy on Williams and Fremont, and attending Morning Star Missionary Baptist Church on Ivy and Rodney."

Don't Edit

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

Charles Maxey was a prominent business owner, civil-rights activist and mentor in the Albina community. Trained as a teacher but rejected by Portland Public Schools in the 1940s, he opened Maxey's Barber Shop and later operated various other businesses during his long, successful career. He died in 2001 at age 84.

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

A sidewalk tile at the corner of North Williams Avenue and Northeast Sacramento Street, part of The Historic Black Williams Project, honors the late Portland physician Dr. DeNorval Unthank.

Unthank moved to Portland in 1929 at age 30 and "would become one of the city's most visible civil rights activists," The Oregon Encyclopedia points out.

Don't Edit

Billy Webb Elks Lodge at North Williams and NE Tillamook. (The Oregonian)

The Billy Webb Elks Lodge at Tillamook and Williams, The Oregonian wrote in 1973, was "known commonly as 'the Negro Elks,' but you don't have to be black to join." Said A.W. Denton, the lodge's leader at the time: "We don't discriminate on race. We discriminate on character." Other Oregon Elks lodges couldn't say the same -- they lost their state tax exemption during the Me Decade because of their whites-only membership rules. "Man has come a long way," Denton said of those lodges. "We have cracked the atom bomb, exploded the heavens. We have littered the moon. But we've never got far enough to explore the hearts of men."

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

The Billy Webb Elks Lodge building -- the lodge branch is named after an early 20th-century local musician -- opened in 1926. It was the city's "Colored YWCA" before becoming a neighborhood meeting place. A $1 million renovation in 2008 revived the building, and it continues to serve the lodge and other purposes. The Oregon Encyclopedia points out that it's "a reminder of the city's largely segregated history and a key historical landmark for the African American community."

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

A fire raged through The Morning Star Missionary Baptist Church in 2007.

The building, constructed in the 1890s, had to be torn down.

Church leaders, The Oregonian wrote, soon had to ask themselves: "With only 200 members, limited resources and changing neighborhood demographics, what is the case for rebuilding?"

The Morning Star church, after 60 years in Albina, moved to the Cully neighborhood.

Don't Edit

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

For a few years after Portland's Wonder Bread Bakery closed in 2000, a small Hostess outlet store remained on the large, otherwise vacant property bounded by North Williams, Vancouver, Cook and Fremont.

Portland city leaders sought to redevelop the 70,000-square-foot site, with a project manager at the Portland Development Commission insisting a new industrial operation "could bring hundreds of jobs to the area."

"Although residents and city officials might have a lot of ideas for redeveloping the site," The Oregonian wrote in 2000, "Wonder Bread has shown no sign of selling. The company uses it for loading and parking its trucks that serve the Portland area."

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

In 2012, Hostess announced its liquidation, meaning the Wonder Bread outlet store's days were numbered. A New Seasons grocery store and an apartment building now take up the former Wonder Bread bakery site.

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

When plans for a large apartment building on the old Wonder Bread site were announced in 2012, neighborhood leaders worried it might exacerbate the area's growing parking problems.

"We are not keen to see a 200-unit, six-story apartment building," Eliot Neighborhood Association chairman Mike Warwick said. "[But] given that it will be built, Eliot wants the developer and his tenants to succeed."

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

When siblings Yohannes and Mimi Dibabu "first began cooking Ethiopian food on North Williams Avenue [12 years ago], the blocks around their restaurant were empty," The Oregonian wrote in 2014. "Dalo's Kitchen was an island."

But that was then. The emptiness was filled in over the years with new construction, and the development boom finally came for the building that housed Dalo's, forcing the restaurant to move to the Alberta district. The nondescript, single-story structure at Williams and Skidmore where Dalo's built its loyal customer base has been replaced by a large apartment building.

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

After years of being "an island" on North Williams Avenue, the restaurant run by Yohannes and Mimi Dibabu found itself in the 2010s surrounded by new construction.

Don't Edit

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

A boarded-up house on North Fargo Street near the intersection of North Williams Avenue stands in the shadow of new residential construction in 2015.

Matt Hern, author of "What a City is For: Remaking the Politics of Displacement," calls Albina "one of the clearest and starkest examples of displacement that I have ever encountered."

"Over and over again on my visits to Portland," he writes in "What a City is For," "I hear people from within and outside Albina talk about the neighborhood in the past tense, celebrating and eulogizing and regretting its history."

Don't Edit

The Peloton Apartments, at 4141 N. Williams Ave., when it was under construction. (The Oregonian)

Referring to those who lament gentrification in neighborhoods like Albina and think of it as a kind of civic death, "What a City is For" author Matt Hern writes:

"I understand what they are saying for sure, and I've said and thought it myself about gentrified neighborhoods in all kinds of cities, and while there's truth there, I don't think it's quite right. The sentiment is too all-or-nothing, too essentialist, and it doesn't capture the complexity of places fairly."

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

In the 1980s and '90s, as Portland's population surged, North Williams Avenue was neglected by developers. That changed after the Great Recession of 2007-09, with new construction along the street moving at a rapid pace over the past decade.

Don't Edit

The Rinehart Building in 1981 (Oregonian file photo)

The two-story blond-brick Rinehart Building, built in 1910 and listed on the National Register of Historic Places, is one of the last remaining historic structures in the Albina neighborhood.

For years the building was home to the Cleo-Lillian Social Club, where B.B. King and other legendary musicians played. "The club doubled as a space for community activism, and [owners Cleo and Lillian Hampton] used it to raise money for African-American social causes," The Oregonian wrote in 2014.

The club closed in 2001.

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

The Rinehart Building, at the corner of Monroe and Williams, housed a confectionery maker, a butcher's shop and many other enterprises over the years. But it stood empty for a decade after the Cleo-Lillian Social Club closed. Developers Tim and Brandon Brown bought the building in 2011 and renovated it.

Don't Edit

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

North Williams Avenue has seen a lot of new development -- and the influx of trendy shops and restaurants -- in recent years. And construction cranes remain a common sight.

Don't Edit

A patio, with bike parking, is tucked behind Hopworks on N. Williams. (The Oregonian)

North Williams Avenue was a bustling street dominated by black-owned businesses in the middle of the last century. After a long period of decline and neglect, the street -- and the neighborhood's demographics -- has been transformed.

Don't Edit

Holst Architecture rendering of One North

The reimagining of North Williams reached full flower with the recent development of One North at Fremont and Williams.

The striking property heralds the district as upscale, innovative and tech-savvy.

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

The One North complex includes two office buildings and a public courtyard. It marked the first significant office development on Williams during its current building boom, highlighting the street as a place not just to eat, shop and bike but also to work.

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

A building at North Williams and Northeast Shaver features a striking mural by Portland artist Tom Cramer.

Don't Edit

Don't Edit

Oregonian file photo

A woman checks out the Historic Black Williams Project's "Stop the Destruction" sign located at the corner of North Williams Avenue and Northeast Knott Street.

The signs, posted along North Williams, showcase how much the street has changed in recent decades.

-- Douglas Perry