An in-floor screen in George Freeman’s home flashes Monastery throwbacks.
Thwop. Thwop. Thwop. The whir of a helicopter rotor slices through the air, disrupting the night sky above the brown clapboard church on Boren Avenue. A disc jockey dressed in monks’ robes waits to emerge as the chopper eases down for a landing. Spotlights beam upward. Somewhere from within the building’s cavernous depths, Mozart’s Fugue in D Minor filters out onto the street to the line of people snaking down the block.
With all that, on May 13, 1977, one of Seattle’s most controversial dance clubs opened its doors.
The Monastery attracted lasting devotion and seething disdain during
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