Seattle has always been a coffee town. The region’s gray and drizzly weather has made coffee a cherished commodity going all the way back to the pioneer days, with some of the city’s earliest merchants establishing their success by roasting and selling their own brands of the stuff. In fact, long before Starbucks, an early Pike Place Market roasting business by the name of Manning’s would establish one of the country’s very first chain of coffee shops.

Then, beginning in the 1950s, a thriving network of coffeehouses began emerging here that further boosted the city’s love of caffeine. A group of local entrepreneurs would later take this coffeehouse model and build it into a global phenomenon, establishing Seattle as a true coffee mecca. But what led to these early coffeehouses? And why did they have such a transformative effect on our city? 

To help answer these questions, I recently paid a visit to Ben Laigo, the man who opened one of Seattle’s earliest coffeehouses back in the late 1950s. Laigo is now an octogenarian, but is still as sharp and spry as anyone half his age. His entire life has been spent bringing his creative ideas to life and his eyes still carry that innovative spark. Ben welcomes me inside the warm and cozy lobby of the retirement center where he currently resides, and we quickly find a table.

After our initial round of small talk, he opens up a large folder. I am here to learn more about The Door, the revolutionary coffeehouse that he opened up in 1959, and he has a stack full of interesting memorabilia that tells its story: tattered old menus, black-and-white photographs, and various newspaper clippings. They are true Seattle artifacts. He pulls out a photo and begins to guide me through the saga of this fabled business. Along the way I also get to hear more about his fascinating life.

Laigo is a Seattle-born Filipino who majored in art and design at Seattle University. After college, he was hired as a designer for the old Frederick & Nelson department store, where he helped set up their window displays. A couple of years later, he enlisted in the U.S. Army and while stationed at Fort Ord in California, used his weekend leave to visit nearby San Francisco. This was at the beginning of the so-called Beat movement, and several coffeehouses were beginning to open up in the Haight-Ashbury district where the early bohemian crowds would hang out. For Laigo, these places were a true revelation.

Upon his discharge in 1958, Laigo returned to Seattle and reunited with a group of artist friends, telling them all about the “fun and funky” smoke-filled coffeehouses with antique tables and chairs, live music, and local artwork. With their help, he wanted to open such a place in Seattle. As he tells it, “I took one look at the San Francisco coffeehouses and decided Seattle could use one.” Everyone was on board with his idea, and so the journey began.

They visited old junk shops for the decor, and it was at a North Seattle antique store that they found an authentic espresso machine that was still in working order. With their pièce de résistance now secured, the only thing else left to do was scout out a suitable location, which Ben soon found and signed a lease for in downtown Seattle.

The next couple of months were spent preparing for the grand opening, which took place in July 1959. While The Door wasn’t the first coffeehouse to open in Seattle (that distinction goes to Cafe Encore, which had its University District debut in 1958), it was the first such establishment to make coffee drinks using a traditional espresso machine. And as reflected in its name, The Door was also the first coffee place to truly embrace its bohemian heritage.

Ben had carefully studied the beatnik-populated coffeehouses in San Francisco and went to great lengths to recreate that same vibe. He shows me photos of some truly stunning murals that his artist friend, Ron Gregory, as well as his brother hand-painted on its walls.

Prior to the opening, the antique espresso machine had to be custom installed by a plumber, but employees managed to have it in working order for the first day. Laigo even purchased several pounds of specially-ground coffee from DeLaurenti at the Pike Place Market, ready to introduce Seattle to the world of espresso, though the coffee world was a little different back then.

For one, the term “barista” wasn’t yet in use. Rather, whoever operated the espresso machine was simply known as the “coffee operator.” Additionally, the espresso-making techniques weren’t nearly as refined as they would later become, but by all accounts, The Door was quickly known for its quality coffee.

Over the next few years, several other coffeehouses began to open throughout the city. This included El Matador, Kismet, The Place Next Door, and Pamir. These new “espresso bars” not only provided live music, but also served as venues where local artists could showcase their work. Above all, they became informal gathering places where people exchanged ideas over cups of coffee, and thanks to our soggy climate, they became immensely popular.

The 1962 Seattle World’s Fair even featured a coffeehouse called The Sleeping Buddha, which welcomed visitors to the city’s newest craze. Throughout the 1960s, more and more espresso joints sprouted up and over time, this coffeehouse culture became interwoven into Seattle’s social fabric.

While many local coffeehouses served as venues for folk music, The Door became known for its jazz. Ben shows me various photos of suited-up jazz musicians playing their sets inside his cafe. KOMO-TV even televised a live jazz concert at The Door. Ironically, it was Ben’s love of jazz that ultimately led to The Door’s eventual demise.

In 1961, he organized a jazz festival at the old Green Lake Aqua Theater. It was a smashing success, so Ben decided to up the ante and the following year’s festival featured the hugely popular Dave Brubeck Quartet as the headlining act. Unfortunately, it rained for the entire three nights, resulting in disastrously low attendance as the Aqua Theater was an outdoor venue. The event ended up being a huge financial loss for Ben and he was forced to sell The Door.

Fortunately, the sale of his coffeehouse coincided with another Seattle milestone when The Space Needle restaurant opened to the public following the closure of the World’s Fair. Ben’s business acumen was quite well-known throughout town and so he was brought on to help run the famous landmark, while his wife, Beverly, worked as one of the elevator operators. 

Ben’s creative energy has always been a constant for him. In 1971, he invented a Seattle food-themed board game called “Main Entrée” that featured several restaurants in its game design. Currently, he is hard at work developing a crowdsourced website that will chronicle all the forgotten tradespeople who have contributed to the city’s success going back to its humble beginnings. His eyes brighten with that creative twinkle as he explains these projects.

Seattle is still very much a coffeehouse city, with several to be found in nearly every neighborhood, and like everything else, they have evolved and changed over the years. The original beatnik clientele at these places was later replaced with hippies who, in turn, were eventually replaced by the grunge crowd in the ’90s. Today’s espresso aficionados are typically much more diverse and computer savvy than their predecessors, though the spirit remains the same thanks to Ben Laigo and his fellow coffeehouse pioneers.

Brad Holden is an amateur historian and is the author of two books: “Seattle Prohibition: Bootleggers, Rumrunners and Graft in the Queen City,” and “Alfred M. Hubbard: Inventor, Bootlegger and Psychedelic Pioneer.” Check out his Instagram page @seattle_artifacts for more interesting tidbits about Seattle’s history.