By James Tabafunda
NORTHWEST ASIAN WEEKLY

Front entrance of the Louisa Hotel (Photo by James Tabafunda)
The Louisa Hotel, a 116-year-old landmark in the Chinatown-International District (CID), is up for sale, raising fresh concerns about Seattle’s historic district.
The sale, announced by the Woo family, who have owned the three-story brick building for more than 60 years, has set off ripple effects in the neighborhood—both as a symbolic end of an era and as a warning sign of growing forces reshaping the community.
“This is not the only building that’s for sale. There are about five other buildings here for sale,” said Tanya Woo, community advocate and daughter of the late Paul Woo, who purchased the Louisa in 1963.
Landmark at a crossroads
Hudson Hotel (site of the now Louisa Hotel). Washington State Archives/Puget Sound branch
Built in 1909 and first known as the Hudson Hotel, the Louisa played a central role in Seattle’s Asian American story. Located at Seventh Avenue South and South King Street, the hotel became one of many single-room occupancy (SRO) buildings where generations of Filipino, Chinese, and Japanese migrants lived on their way to cannery jobs in Alaska.
The National Park Service recognizes the Louisa as a contributing property within the Seattle Chinatown Historic District, which was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1986.
Inside its walls, history surfaced in dramatic fashion a decade ago. During renovations following a 2013 fire, workers uncovered vivid prohibition-era murals of musicians and patrons—the remnants of Club Royale, a long-buried speakeasy and jazz club once located in the basement.
Tanya Woo, Louisa Hotel co-owner and CID community advocate (Photo by James Tabafunda)
“This is not a decision we’re coming to lightly,” Woo said of the decision to put the property up for sale. “My father really loved Chinatown so much. He was so involved that that’s the reason why he bought this building.”
From tragedy to transformation
The Louisa Hotel’s past includes some of Seattle’s darkest events.
In February 1983, the Wah Mee Club, an illegal gambling den operating in its basement, became the site of the deadliest mass killing in Washington state history. Three armed robbers tied up and shot 14 people; 13 died.
Tragedy struck again on Christmas Eve 2013, when a fast-moving blaze destroyed the Louisa’s western half. Though investigators could not confirm a cause, the fire displaced longtime tenants and shuttered businesses including Mon Hei Bakery, Sea Garden Restaurant, Liem’s Pet Shop, and Palace Décor & Gifts.
The Woo family weighed whether to leave it closed, sell, or attempt the costly rebuild. In the end, they chose to restore Louisa.
“It took us two years to raise the funds, the $2 million to be able to stabilize and demolish half the building that was fire damaged,” Woo said.
With support from historic preservation tax credits, city funding, and a partnership with Greg and Valerie Gorder of Gaard Development, work began in late 2017. In 2019, the Louisa reopened with a mix of affordable and market-rate apartments and commercial space.
“We went above and beyond to save as much as we could—original doors, trim, murals,” she said. But even then, she worried aloud that new owners might not protect those details. “If it was sold, they (new owners) may not choose to continue that.”
Economics and hard choices
Despite millions invested in its rebirth, the Louisa has struggled financially since reopening. Public safety crises, pandemic shutdowns, and neighborhood decline have strained both tenants and owners.
“Reality is not great,” Woo said. “We’re constantly facing 20% vacancies. Many people move out because they don’t feel safe. Our building just had to hire security like many buildings, and that’s $200,000 a year.”
That problem is widespread. Across the CID, small businesses and landlords faced growing losses from break-ins, vandalism, drug activity, and declining foot traffic. According to city housing officials, about 600 residents remain in SRO units in the district, though most comparable studios elsewhere now rent for about $1,000 a month or more.
“It’s gotten to the point where, after 10 years of putting more money into this building and dealing with all these challenges, we don’t know how we’re going to be able to hold on,” Woo said. “Even if we go up for sale, we don’t know if we can sell. And even if we sell, we don’t know how large the loss is just yet.”
Seattle’s 2014 rental inspection ordinance further accelerated the pressures on older CID housing stock. The law requires SRO landlords to upgrade aging infrastructure to safety codes with costs that can reach $20 million or more per building. In a 2018 Seattle Times article, Marie Wong, a professor emerita at Seattle University’s Institute of Public Service, described the situation for the city’s SRO hotels as “incredibly bleak.”
Displacement and transformation
The Louisa’s possible sale mirrors a wider pattern reshaping the CID. Land values have climbed rapidly, bringing long-owned properties to the attention of developers pursuing more lucrative mixed-use, market-rate projects.
At least five other multigenerational family-owned buildings have listed for sale in the district since 2022, according to King County property filings. Corner groceries, gift shops, and even anchor restaurants have closed along Jackson and King streets, while a surge in drug activity and encampments on 12th Avenue South have further turned away business.
Woo emphasized that many longtime landlords in the CID are families who bought property there during years of racist zoning laws and redlining, when the neighborhood was one of the only places open to Chinese Americans.
“We’re not corporations,” she said. “We have ownership of these buildings because of parents who were able to buy property only in certain places of the city. Chinatown is the only place where Chinese people could buy property.”
For her family, she said, “we really wanted to do affordable housing.”
Community response and fragile optimism
Grassroots organizations have worked to stabilize the CID in recent years, through safety patrols, tenant protections, and initiatives to revive foot traffic. The city has also invested in targeted rental assistance, storefront improvement grants, and security partnerships.
Still, Woo said, more support is needed—particularly rental aid that recognizes the pressure owners face when tenants fall behind.
“We have some folks here who have not paid rent for two years or so,” she said. “That’s why we need more rental assistance.”
The Louisa has also been part of pilot programs placing case managers and social workers in residences to help formerly homeless tenants adjust and stay stably housed. “We try really hard to retain folks,” Woo said, noting efforts to place 20 such residents at the property.
Advocacy is beginning to take hold at City Hall. Seattle councilmembers have endorsed a 15-point plan crafted by Little Saigon leaders to address CID-specific issues. Mayor Bruce Harrell’s 2025-2026 budget proposal allocates direct funds to public safety, cultural events, and economic resilience initiatives in the neighborhood.
“We are very excited,” Woo said. “We are, I think, very slowly getting better.”
Looking ahead
Even as the Louisa is listed for sale, hope persists that investment in the CID is not limited to profit-driven turnover.
Festivals like the CID Night Market return crowds to the streets, and the Lunar New Year celebration remains a regional draw. The 2026 FIFA World Cup, bringing international soccer to Seattle, offers the prospect of global exposure. But Woo strikes a note of caution.
“We’ve had other events here as well that didn’t go as well as we had hoped for,” she said. “So we’re hoping FIFA will have a better outcome. We want sustainable [development].”
For Woo, the measure of renewal is whether the CID can restore its vitality as a place of daily life—not just annual festivals.
“This area used to be so busy you couldn’t find parking late at night,” she said. “Now, businesses close earlier, and the crowds have yet to return. I want to see lines out the door, not just during festivals, but every day—people shopping, dining, and filling the streets. More pedestrians mean safer neighborhoods and stronger small businesses. With improved transit access, safety partnerships, and community events, we can revitalize Chinatown and show Seattle is a world-class city at its heart.”
Preservation, she stressed, must involve younger generations.
“We would like to capture some of the younger generations to forge new memories here, discover new things, and realize this is a very unique part of town, and we have to preserve it.”
Unclear future
The Louisa’s future remains uncertain. But for Woo, its meaning is beyond measure.
“I hope we won’t have to close it. I don’t think that’s going to happen,” she said. “There are people who call this building home, and we would like to retain it and keep it open for people to live in. And we will not close.”
As the Louisa faces perhaps its greatest turning point since fire nearly destroyed it a decade ago, its legacy is again tied to questions of survival and economics—not only for a building, but for an entire district whose future of prosperity is overdue.
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