Just north of Oklahoma City lies the capital of Oklahoma; or at least what was supposed to be the capital of Oklahoma. The town of Guthrie, settled in a matter of hours on April 22, 1889, boasted a population of 10,000 people and was dubbed, "The Queen of the Prairie." Buildings sprouted up overnight as people poured in looking for a new beginning to their thus unfilled lives. Soon the wooden buildings were replaced with those of brick and stone, along with water, electricity, and all the municipal amenities that made a modern town. The railroad station provided the flood of timber, stone, and supplies needed to construct a modern city in a land that provided few resources for such endeavors. A Belgian architect, Joseph Pierre Foucart, designed and built many of the town's important structures in the prevailing Victorian style, giving Guthrie an appearance of modernity equal to many more established towns along the east coast.
By 1907, when Oklahoma became the 46th state to enter the Union, Guthrie was a burgeoning capital city boasting a Carnegie library, an opera house, marble baths, and a Masonic center. The city carried the hopes of the thousands of settlers trying to make their stand on the lonely, wind-swept plains. Unfortunately for all those who had staked their livelihood's on Guthrie's future, petty political conflict cost Guthrie its livelihood (or at least hastened the inevitable). The owner and editor of the Daily State Capitol (Guthrie's Republican paper), Frank Greer, ran a continuing series of blistering editorials scathing Governor Charles Haskell (a Democrat). Guthrie was supposed to remain the state capital until at least 1913, but in 1910 Haskell pushed forward the popular referendum to decide the location of the capital. Due to geography and the location of railroad hubs, other cities were outpacing Guthrie's growth. When the votes were tallied Guthrie lost to Oklahoma City by a large margin. The state seal was unceremoniously removed by men loyal to the governor, giving rise to an urban legend in Guthrie that their status as the capital was stolen from them.
While Guthrie seemed cursed following its loss of capital status, history is much the better for it. Following the vote, Guthrie became a ghost town. Property values plunged 80%. No one wanted to invest in Guthrie, and as a result, the Victorian buildings were left standing. In other fast growing areas, especially in Oklahoma City, buildings were constantly torn down and rebuilt as the land became more valuable. The Masons acquired the capitol site in Guthrie and they constructed a $2.6 million Scottish Rite Temple that looks as though it belongs in Washington, D.C.. In the 1980s, a preservation movement gained momentum and Guthrie is now one of the largest areas on the National Register of Historic Places.
I visited Guthrie the weekend before Christmas 2009 to see the beloved production of A Territorial Christmas Carol, a frontier twist on Dickens' Christmas classic (and my favorite Christmas story). The play was put on by the Pollard Theatre, the oldest continuously running production house in Oklahoma. In this version, Scrooge is not a financier, but a land owner, and most of the London-centric elements of the story have been replaced with the characteristics of the frontier. Next door is the Pollard Inn, housed in what used to be a bank. The family-run bed and breakfast has spacious rooms, and the downstairs restaurant, Megan's, has excellent food at decent prices. The Pollard is an interesting study in contradictions, with its Victorian style and elegant, six-course dinner menu offset by the breakfast servers in their pajamas.
The blocks surrounding the Pollard Inn and Pollard Theatre are filled with antique shops, each with their own distinct style of hand-me-down junk. There are also a couple of independent art galleries, mostly selling western art. Unfortunately, either because of my timing or the weather, Guthrie had the feeling of being abandoned during most of my two day stay, almost as if it were 1910 all over again. The Blue Bell Saloon (with Miss Lizzie's Bordello museum upstairs) has been shut down and the owner foreclosed upon. The National Four-String Banjo Hall of Fame Museum was still closed for renovations that were due to be completed in August. Some remaining bright spots were the Oklahoma Territorial Museum, housed in the Carnegie Library, and the Frontier Drugstore Museum & Apothecary Garden, where one can gander at the insane concoctions that passed as legitimate remedies in turn-of-the-century America. Beyond the small city center are a number of impressive Victorian homes, most notably the Dominion House, which I visited for a wedding in October.
While Guthrie is no longer the "Queen of the Prairie," or even "Oklahoma's Magic City," as it currently bills itself, it does offer a brief retreat into another time where we can imagine ourselves trying to make a new life in an unforgiving land. As I am currently in the process of building a new home in Oklahoma, the lore of forging a new life on the frontier resonates strongly. I only hope that I do not repeat the mistake of Guthrie by building too much upon a false premise. In the months and years ahead I may revisit Guthrie for a tour of the Masonic Temple, or for the Guthrie Jazz Banjo Festival. Hopefully the mood in the town will be more vibrant and less like that of 1910.
