To spot the Woodward's Building, just look up-you can’t miss the big red “W” perched proudly atop its metal tower above a handsome old brick building, surrounded by modern glass towers at the corner of Hastings and Abbott.
Alright, welcome to the legendary Woodward’s Building! If these bricks could talk, I bet they’d have as many tales as the shops and dreamers who once filled the air with the buzz of a city in motion. Picture yourself here about a hundred years ago: it’s 1903, and Cordova Street is the beating heart of Vancouver’s retail world. Shoppers bustle in and out, and at the center of it all, standing strong, is the Woodward’s Department Store. This place wasn’t just a shop-it was a destination, like the mall of all malls! Need shoes? Fancy cheese? A new hat? Check, check, and check. The slogan could’ve been “Woodward’s: Everything but the kitchen sink!” Wait, actually, they probably sold those, too.
Now, imagine it’s Christmas. The air is crisp, and families huddle around the elaborate Christmas window displays shimmering with lights and mechanical toys that made kids wide-eyed with wonder. But the real spectacle is above: the giant neon “W” atop the building, sitting on a steel tower that’s a 25-meter-high nod to Paris’s Eiffel Tower. At night, the original “W” replaced a World War II searchlight that used to scan the skies, visible all the way from Abbotsford-just in case you needed to find your way from, say, another city.
But this building is much more than its famous sign. In its glory days, the Woodward’s Food Floor was the talk of the town, North America’s most prominent supermarket at the time. You could buy goods you’d never seen elsewhere, maybe even a few you didn’t know existed! The place grew in twelve separate bursts, expanding like a living thing until it covered nearly two-thirds of the block, eventually rising twelve stories tall. What’s behind those brick walls? Well-don’t get lost! Twisting stockrooms, winding hallways, and hidden offices sprawled behind the main retail floors, shaping an urban maze that employees navigated like pros.
The “one-stop shop” spirit was alive here-groceries, fashion, banking, even booking your holidays, all under one roof. It’s no wonder the building drew crowds and lured other businesses, transforming this whole area into a retail magnet. If you’d visited in the 1940s, you’d have seen working-class shoppers, chatty staff, and the “W” rising like a beacon over the skyline.
But then, time shifted. The 1960s brought glittering new shopping malls to the suburbs. The crowds started to drift away, following Eaton’s and other big stores down to Pacific Centre. The neighborhood changed, and Woodward’s lost some of its shine, as industry and people moved elsewhere. In the 1980s, even the legendary Food Floor changed hands, ending up as an IGA-one of those “I guess this is okay” sort of moments for Woodward’s fans.
Finally, in 1993, Woodward’s declared bankruptcy. The doors closed. The big building became a ghost, watching over empty sidewalks as the area around it slipped into tougher times. For years, it just stood there, mostly vacant, except for the occasional film shoot-hey, Vancouver never misses a chance to show off on screen!
But the story wasn’t over. In 2002, activists seeking social housing staged the “Woodsquat” occupation here, sparking a movement that would shape the building’s future. Policemen arrived, tents went up, and the neighborhood buzzed with hope and conflict. That week-long occupation and the months of protest afterward lit the fire for real change.
The city eventually bought the building, launching a wild redevelopment that had to balance the dreams of new residents with the fierce pride of long-time neighbors. Most of those old labyrinths have been demolished since 2006-except the oldest chunk at the base, keeping the story anchored in the past. And in 2010, that giant “W” went back up, shining with new LED lights, a sign that Woodward’s had been reborn.
So as you stand here, let the spirit of a century of shopping, squabbles, and second chances swirl around you. Think of the old days and the future still being built. Look around at the students, families, shops, and even a basketball hoop in the atrium-a nod to how communities can change, yet always remember where they came from. And if you hear the faint echo of Christmas carols or the shuffle of shoppers, don’t be alarmed-that’s just the Woodward’s magic working its charm.
