Vanishing B.C. Queen Charlotte Apartments

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This page last updated December 12, 2020

Queen Charlotte Apartments

by Daryl Nelson

The Queen Charlotte Apartments at 1101 Nicola in Vancouver's West End in 1928, photo by W.J. Moore
(City of Vancouver Archives AM54-S4-: Bu N261.1)

A watercolour I [MK] painted of it for Daryl Nelson in 2007.

[Editor's Note: This reminiscence of life in the Queen Charlotte Apartments was written by Daryl Nelson.]

A Memoir of The Queen Charlotte Apts.
By Daryl Nelson December 1, 2020

I moved into the Queen Charlotte Apartments on March 15, 1985. It had taken two years for the price of #34 to be reduced from $139K down to $98K, which is what I eventually paid. At that time, the location of the QC was iffy – the male prostitutes on the corner had just moved on as the result of a provincial government injunction. Whether they would return was any one’s guess. The first time I entered the QC had occurred a few years earlier when I had come to visit friends. I was immediately impressed by the grand entrance, large hallways and house like suites. It was very much like a refugee from the jazz age. I could imagine Scott Joplin music playing while flappers danced and bathtub gin genially consumed.

35 years later I am still ensconced in Suite #34. Many people have come and gone over the years. Here are a few stories of this remarkable Vancouver landmark. The Queen Charlotte was built for Henry Herbert (Harry) Stevens on the site of his former home. H.H. Stevens was a prominent businessman and a cabinet minister in the Conservative governments of Arthur Meighen and R.B. Bennett. In 1963, a federal government building at 10 th and Quebec was named after Stevens. A plaque on the building stated:

“One of Canada’s outstanding public servants, the honourable Henry Herbert Stevens was a Member of Parliament for thirty years and served with distinction in various cabinet portfolios.”

Alas, history has not been kind to Stevens. His role in the decision to prevent the Komagata Maru from docking and discharging 350 mostly Sikhs from India, became plain, even though they were entitled to disembark as British subjects. In fact, he was the main architect of the decision, which was consistent with his long-held opposition to immigration from Asia. In other words, H.H. Stevens was an unrepentant racist. So, in 2019, the federal government took the unprecedented decision to remove Stevens name from the building, which now just goes by its street address. It should also be noted that in 2016 Prime Minister Justin Trudeau apologized for the Komagata Maru incident in Parliament, saying “Canada’s government was, without question, responsible for the laws that prevented these passengers from immigrating peacefully and securely.” In the end perhaps the Queen Charlotte is the only legacy H.H. Stevens can be proud of.

An antidote to H.H. Stevens was Charles Bentall, President of Dominion Construction who built the Queen Charlotte. A successful businessman and devout Baptist, there is nothing in his life story to besmirch his sterling reputation. By the time The Queen Charlotte was built, Bentall had acquired Gabriola from Mrs. B.T. Rogers in exchange for constructing the Angus Apartment which once stood at Davie and Cardero Streets. Gabriola was the grandest of the grand mansions which once filled the West End and still stands one block from the Queen Charlotte at Davie and Nicola Streets. I like to think that while the QC was being built Charles Bentall walked over to see how things were going. Old timers in the West End still recall Mr. Bentall living out his days in Gabriola until his passing in 1974.

Alas, the architect who designed the Queen Charlotte is lost in time as Dominion Construction employed staff architects. A copy of the original plans hanging in the basement of the QC does not reveal his or her name. We are indebted to them nevertheless.

The Katharine Hepburn Suite
Shortly before I moved in in 1985 an enquiry was made about a suite which was for rent. It was from someone looking for an apartment for Katharine Hepburn who was coming to Vancouver to appear in a play. Unfortunately, Miss Hepburn required a working fireplace -- something the QC does not offer. In the end, she rented a suite in the Rosellen Apartments on Barclay Street which did have a fireplace. Even though the QC experienced the briefest brush with fame, the suite was thereafter referred to as The Katharine Hepburn Suite.

The CBC Suites
Over the years, residents included a number of CBC luminaries. Firstly, Judy Piercey who read the CBC Vancouver TV News for a number of years (When my father, who lived in Cranbrook, referred to something “Judy” had said, I knew exactly who he meant). Then there was James Barber who hosted a popular CBC TV Show called The Urban Peasant. And finally, Bill Richardson (and his dog Stella), a well know CBC Radio Host. These suites are affectionally referred to as The CBC Suites.

The AIDS Vancouver Suite
Early in the 1980’s, a new disease emerged. Very little was known about it except that it affected primarily gay men. Shortly after AIDS emerged as a major health crisis, a meeting was held in the suite of Gordon Price to form what was to become AIDS Vancouver. A few weeks later, I joined the group as treasurer. Of all the events that have taken place in the Queen Charlotte, this one stands out as a proud citadel against the hate and willful ignorance directed towards those afflicted with the disease as well as the gay community in general. To this day, I cannot summon an ounce of forgiveness towards those families who abandoned their loved ones
who were dying of AIDS.

The Adam Smith Johnson Suite
At some point Adam Smith Johnson (1888 – 1948) sold his Shaughnessy home and moved into the Queen Charlotte. He was known as the “best dressed man in Vancouver” so the building must have suited his refined tastes. The only information I can find on him is a photograph in the City of Vancouver Archives which shows a nattily dressed gentlemen with a certain authoritative bearing. If he were alive today, we probably would refer to Adam Smith Johnson as an “influencer” but now he is just another piece of the Queen Charlotte story.

The Miss Cornwall and Mrs. Scheldrup Suites
When I moved into the building in 1985, I was told not to do any laundry on Monday. This day was reserved for Miss Cornwall and Mrs. Scheldrup – the morning for one, the afternoon for the other. Although we had automatic washing machines, these two elderly ladies preferred to use the wringer washer next to the laundry tubs. As I recall, a bottle of “bluing” stood next to the machine. Good for making your whites whiter or your hair a bit bluer. No doubt the women were comfortable with an old fashioned, but very effective way of doing laundry. The wringer washer is long gone now, along with Miss Cornwall and Mrs. Scheldrup – representatives of an era when wash day was always Monday and people took pride in their whites.

The Piano Suites
If you were lucky, on a warm summers night you could hear the sound of piano music if you walked past the Queen Charlotte. Perhaps a George Gershwin or Cole Porter tune. The suites are easily large enough accommodate a piano and in at least one case a baby grand. One of my neighbours had his piano against a common wall, but he played so beautifully I never thought of complaining. And besides, there was a time when a piano was a sign you had arrived in the middle class with enough disposable income for both the instrument and lessons for your children.

The Robin Ward Suite
Robin Ward was a columnist in the Vancouver Sun who wrote about heritage matters. In 1993, Robin wrote a book entitled “Robin Ward’s Heritage WestCoast” which contains a lovely pen and ink drawing of the Queen Charlotte. The written text contains the most majestic prose I have ever read about the building. “This exuberant Spanish Colonial Revival block…evokes the urban California of Raymond Chandler blended with the European Bell Epoque.” “Beyond the entrance, with its bevelled glass and gilt swash lettering, the lobby décor mixes Spanish Colonial and Art Deco motifs. The former foyer reception lounge (now enclosed in one of the ground floor suites), with its Persian carpets and Moorish arches wall niches, looked like an emir’s chamber in some Alcaraz in southern Spain.”

The Lady in Black Suite
Although I have never encountered her or even felt her presence, some in the building have. Perhaps being 100% left-brained has left me without the ability to sense such things. But there is a certain cache about having a ghost in residence – joining the ranks of the Hotel Vancouver with its Lady in Red, the Old CPR Station or the Old Spaghetti Factory in Gastown. Given the hundreds of people who have come and gone from the Queen Charlotte since 1928 perhaps it is not too much to expect that one or two may have hung around. I’ll let you be the judge.

The God Save the Queen Suite
Many years ago, there was a lady who sang “God Save The Queen” as she rode the elevator up. I never met the woman. so was never able to ascertain the purpose of this patriotic tribute to Queen Elizabeth. Was she a devout monarchist or just training for a role in The Magic Flute as Queen of the Night? Was her inspiration Queen Elizabeth or in fact Queen Charlotte, wife of George III? In any case, she was one of the many residents who added colour and character to this icon of the West End – The Queen Charlotte Apartments.

Rear Window
The Queen Charlotte actually sits on two lots – one where most of the building sits and a second one which contained the back garden. The building has an easement of a few feet on the second lot. In 1985, there was an old house next to the garden which rented rooms. Eventually the house and the garden lot were sold to a developer and a new condominium proposed for the site. A meeting was held between owners of the Queen Charlotte and the developer to discuss the project. The developer’s proposed building was three stories high with a blank wall facing a few feet away from bedrooms and living rooms of the QC. At the meeting
between QC owners and the developer, a real estate agent basically said that they could build whatever the developer wanted and the meeting was just a formality. Big mistake. We were young, feisty and not about to be sandbagged by some real estate agent.

In a few months the original design was presented to the Development Permit Board at city hall and we were ready with detailed arguments about how a noted heritage building should not be treated with such brutal indifference. The plans were sent back to the developer for re-working. The result was a four-storey building pushed much further west with a court yard between the two buildings. Much better, although the plans mimicked the Queen Charlotte with a ridiculous number of parapets giving the “Charlotte Gardens” almost a cartoonish look. My own suite #34, faced directly into the court yard at the fourth-floor level of
Charlotte Gardens. Initially I would nonplussed with the loss of privacy, until I realized that the view was almost the same as the one in one of my favourite movies “Rear Window” which was directed by Alfred Hitchcock. The movie starred James Stewart, Grace Kelly and New Westminster’s Raymond Burr and was released in 1954. The set used in the movie was based on a real courtyard located at 125 Christopher Street in New York City although the fictional address is 125 W. Ninth Street in Greenwich Village. Whether the architect of Charlotte Gardens had this movie in mind is unknown, but for a fan of Rear Window it is
enough. I should add that I have never seen a hint of criminal activity next door, but if it does occur, I’ll be ready.

Front Window
In the 1980’s I had gotten to know a gentleman by the name of David Livingston.David grew up in the West End in a house on the water side of Beach Avenue near Sunset Beach – 1550 Beach Avenue to be exact. A plaque on a bench marks the spot. His father was a lawyer. David was one of the few people I have known who was actually taught to swim by Joe Fortes. One day David told me that he was taught to refer to Jervis Street as Jar-vis Street while a student at Crofton House School. This makes him the only person I have known who was taught to speak “Canadian Dainty”. This was a quasi-British accent spoken by the upper middle-class elites beginning in the 19 th century. Apparently, some in Canada perceived British English as superior to Canadian English and their children were taught to speak with that accent. The best example
is perhaps listening to a recording of Vincent Massey giving a speech. In any case, “Canadian Dainty” disappeared entirely after the World War II with the flood of immigrants from all over the world. Today, I’m sure Canadians would find the accent laughingly pretentious.

Another day, I was walking down the 1400 block Comox Street with David, when he stopped in front of a house and said “I always feel guilty when I pass this house”. I asked why, and he said “Because I threw a chestnut through the front window when I was a boy”. Trying to assuage his guilt, I said that probably after 60 plus years, the residents of that day had no doubt moved on. I’m not sure it helped his feelings, but I still think of David and his chestnut when I pass the house.

The Woodward’s Pier
In the mid-1980’s I got involved in a group called “Friends of Stanley Park” which was led by Jim Harvey, a former Park Board Commissioner. Jim’s philosophy was that parks should remain as natural as possible with as few man made objects as possible. In the case of Stanley Park this included limiting restaurants and particularly any further expansions by the Vancouver Public Aquarium. Jim Harvey was a descendent of Robert Dunsmuir, but he was particularly proud of the work his grandfather had done to limit commercial activity in Beacon Hill Park in Victoria.

In 1985, it was made known that anonymous donor wished to re-built the pier on English Bay Beach for 1986 Vancouver centennial. The original pier, which was built in 1905 across the street from the Sylvia Hotel, had been demolished in 1938. At low tide you can still see the rocks that were placed under the old pier. I felt, and Jim agreed, that the new pier would be a blight on the views from English Bay Beach, and would serve no particular purpose. The community was split – some felt that an added attraction was desirable while others wanted nothing to do with it. Eventually, I learned who the anonymous donor was and my heart sank. It was
Woodward’s Stores Limited, the repository of so many happy memories from my growing up. Although Eaton’s and The Bay were certainly in evidence, Woodward’s was where we went for just about everything from school supplies on $1.49 Day to getting our pictures taken with Santa. I wished nothing but good things for that company.

But in the end my head over-ruled my heart and I continued to oppose the pier and the idea was eventually dropped. I recall Commission George Wainborn being quite cross with me because he, and I assume at least some other commissioners were in favour. I recall Jim Harvey saying to me at the time, “Those commissioners would all be pregnant if they were women. They just don’t know how to say no.” Indeed.

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