The National Theater Manager Skipped Town With the Glassware
H. H. Kline vanished from Olympia's National Theater, leaving unpaid salaries, a bar tab, and empty beer bottles—while police took charge of the building.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
There will be no performance at the National theater this evening and probably for many evenings. The general manager has fled, the building is in charge of the police, employees are wistfully looking for their salaries, and water rent, electric light bills, and a dozen and one accounts remain unpaid.
The theater was opened some weeks ago under the management of H. H. Kline, who has had similar experience in Tacoma. It seemed to flourish for a while, and was apparently doing a good business. Lately, however, the creditors became more wary and took greater precautions. Among the heavier losers is W. A. Botkin, who recently supplied them with a large quantity of liquors and bar fixtures. To protect himself, he took a chattel mortgage. This morning, when he learned of the condition of affairs, he put the police in charge, but found that Kline and his people had wiped out everything in the shape of portable property. All the glassware had been packed up and shipped away, and nothing remained to tell the tale of woe and desolation except five empty demijohns and a stock of old beer bottles.
At first it was rumored that they had stolen all the incandescent lamps, but these were afterwards found to be intact. The light and power company have not received a cent for the current supplied, and they are in the boat for nearly $200, which will have to be made good by the owner of the building before it will be lighted again. E. L. Sawyer, of Tacoma, the owner, was notified today. Everything was taken away except the chairs and piano, which it is also claimed was not paid for. Herman Hadlan secured a lot of empty beer kegs, but no money.
Mr. Botkin will go to Tacoma and hunt up the missing manager. Several other claimants for work done on the theater would like to find Kline.
“Nothing remained to tell the tale of woe and desolation except five empty demijohns and a stock of old beer bottles.”
Fly-by-night operators and sudden closures are not new to Olympia's entertainment scene; creditors and workers still get left holding the bill when a venue goes dark. The empty demijohns and vanished glassware make a very 1891 version of a modern business collapse.
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