A STORIED SEAT IN SEATTLE

Before the world arrived for the Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition, the Sorrento opened its doors. With rooftop views, Italianate architecture, and the city’s first boutique charm, it set a new standard.

Clothier-turned-hotelier Samuel Rosenberg envisioned a refined urban retreat. By 1910, he traded the hotel for Oregon orchards that would later become Harry & David. But his spirit lingered long after.

Red Cross headquarters were set up in a guest room. Officers danced in the ballroom. Tea was poured. Bandages were wrapped. Seattle's war effort found a home at the Sorrento.

Real estate magnate Vernon Pavey managed and lived at the hotel. The top-floor dining space turned lavish, menus touted orchard-grown produce, and the Sorrento became the unofficial club for visiting naval officers.

With Seattle University students housed in one wing and socialites in another, the Sorrento evolved into a hub of elevated communal living. By decade's end, its rooftop loggia had become Seattle's most enviable view.

Again, the Sorrento hosted military personnel and transformed dining rooms into private clubs to comply with liquor laws. High-ranking guests drank and dined under assumed names—and under city lights.

Back in those days, jazz singers wore cake hats with glowing candles. Ragtime pianists taped their fingers from overuse. Locals and airmen gathered for supper and song at Top of the Town.

A major remodel reimagined the hotel with new lounges, updated guest rooms, and salvaged bronze lanterns. Seattle was growing taller, but the Sorrento kept looking inward, toward detail and design.

Visionaries Michael Malone and Robert Burkheimer led a faithful restoration. Original Rookwood tiles were preserved. The octagonal lobby, renamed the Fireside Room, became a haven for Seattle creatives.

Luxury upgrades brought suites, high-speed Wi-Fi, and national attention via Architectural Digest. But the character? Untouched. The Sorrento remained unmistakably itself.

Writers still gather. Artists still linger. Locals still toast. Travelers still pause. More than a hotel, Hotel Sorrento remains Seattle’s living room, past and present wrapped into one unshakable place.