What’s in a name when your name is No Name?
Stetson Hats are still going strong after 150 years. But did you know that Stetson actually got its original start here in West Orange? In a time when EVERYONE wore hats, the Valley neighborhood on the border of Orange and West Orange was the center of the industry, with the largest collection of hatmakers in the world.
If you see the old abandoned warehouses by the NJ Transit line a few blocks east of here, it can be hard to imagine that this was once a thriving center of ANY industry, rather than what looks like a perfect set for a zombie apocalypse movie. But if you could go back 150 years, you would have seen these buildings buzzing with peak business for 33 different hat manufacturers, employing close to 4,000 people, including F. Berg and Company (at the corner of Nassau and South Jefferson Street) and the No Name Hat Company (at the corner of Mitchell and South Jefferson Street, crossing the small headwater tributary of the Rahway River), run by local hatmaker Stephen Stetson and his family.
Stetson was head of a family empire of hatters (mad or not, I can’t say), originally based in East Orange, who moved to the border of Orange and West Orange the mid-1800s. Surprisingly unable to agree on what to name their business, Stephen’s sons Napoleon and John Stetson in 1882 agreed to call it the No Name Hat Company. For decades, they were one of the largest hat manufacturer in the world.
But John Stetson unfortunately contracted tuberculosis, so he went West to try to regain his health, and maybe make a fortune panning for gold near Pikes Peak. He didn’t strike it rich in gold, but he did discover a particular need that he and other prospectors had for a durable, lightweight, all-weather, water-repellent hat. When a Mexican cowboy offered him a $5 gold coin for his hat, he realized he might have a future in this business after all. Returning east in 1865 to start his own company in Philadelphia, John Stetson used his family’s name to market a special Western style of hat for cowboys and ranch hands called the “boss of the Plains.” (Interestingly, the No Name and Stetson companies seem to have collaborated over the years more than competed, even sharing patents.
By 1920, through consolidation and business migration, only five hat companies were left in the Valley — by the Depression, they were all gone. And while the Stetson name has endured as a highly successful brand for 150 years, No Name is long gone beyond a few vintage hats in collections, some surviving ads, and one crumbling building down by the train station that will hopefully, eventually, be turned into artists’ lofts and apartments by the local nonprofit group Hands (who also run the restaurant Hat City Kitchen, right across the street, which has outstanding Nawlins-influenced food, drinks, and live music—plus it’s a nonprofit, with revenue going to help further revitalize and preserve this historic area).
A photographer recently walked through that remaining building and took some grim photos of what it now looks like inside, after being used for other industries, then abandoned and occasionally occupied by squatters. (Warning that one of the photos near the bottom shows a couple of pornographic magazines on the floor, so maybe don’t scroll all the way down if there are kiddos around...)
Enough history, now for the cache: The cache you're looking for is in a newly redone, tiny sliver of a park three blocks west of the factories, and commemorates the history of the area with a very cool clock. The cache is a small container, so BYOP! Please rehide well!
Congrats to BigA800 for the FTF!