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Saving space and breaking barriers
Side Projects Throughout History: the Sarah E. Goode story

Sarah E. Goode and her cabinet bed
It’s another early morning in late 19th-century Chicago and, just like every other morning, Sarah E. Goode is walking through the bustling, gritty heart of the city on her way to the modest furniture store she owns with her husband at 513 State Street. It’s near Lake Michigan, just across the water from what is today Millenium Park. A small, humble storefront inside the Bennett Medical College of Eclectic Medicine and Surgery building.

Bennett Medical College of Eclectic Medicine and Surgery building, circa 1895
Sarah and her husband, both freed African American slaves, had worked and saved for years to open the store. She loved her work, but it consumed her. Advising customers, managing inventory, and keeping the books, all while also caring for her 5 daughters and running her household.
Yet, somewhere in the steady grind of selling tables and chairs, making dinners and putting her girls to bed, she saw a spark of opportunity—a way to solve a problem no one else seemed interested in.
The problem? Living space. Many of Sarah's customers at the furniture store were also newly freed African Americans, carving out lives in the city. They often lived in tiny apartments, cramped by necessity and limited means.
On this particular day, a frustrated woman came into the store lamenting how she couldn’t fit a bed and a dining table into her one-room home. Sarah listened, her sharp mind turning the challenge over and over.
And later that evening, long after the store had closed and her 5 daughters – Estella, Inza, Harriet, Edna, and Sarah – were asleep, Sarah sketched at her kitchen table by the dim light of an oil lamp. She imagined a piece of furniture that could serve two purposes: a functional bed by night and a compact cabinet by day.
A hide-away bed – and the precursor to the Murphy Bed – where the weight was balanced enough that the bed could be easily lifted up and out at bedtime, and during the day just as easily lifted up and back into a roll-top desk with compartments for writing supplies and stationery.

The cabinet bed in action
The idea wasn’t just practical; it was elegant. But Sarah’s days were long. She worked tirelessly in the shop and tended to her family’s needs, leaving only slivers of time for her side project. Late nights became her norm, and she often rose before dawn to tinker with prototypes.
She salvaged scraps of wood from the store and worked with her husband to test hinges, joints, and the mechanics of folding and unfolding. There were failures, of course: beds that sagged, cabinets that wouldn’t close, and moments of deep frustration when her ideas seemed to outpace her resources.
Money was tight. Every extra nail and plank of wood was an expense. And Sarah had to prioritize her family’s immediate needs. Yet she was determined. "If I can solve this," she told herself, "it will be worth it. Not just for me, but for people like me."
S.E. Goode, Cabinet Bed (Sarah E. Goode patent), U.S. Patent No. 322,177 (July 14, 1885)
In November 1883, with the help of attorney George P. Barton, Sarah applied for a patent. A Chicago Tribune article from September, 1884 mentioned that “S E Goode” was exhibiting her French Flat Folding-Bed at the 32nd Annual Illinois State Fair.
And on July 14, 1885 – after $35 in fees and 20 months of waiting, getting rejected, making adjustments, and resubmitting the paperwork – Sarah became one of the first African American women to receive a U.S. patent. It was a marvel of ingenuity: a space-saving solution that transformed with a few simple motions. It was a moment of triumph, but it also marked the beginning of her next challenge.
Selling the idea to the world was no small feat. Her gender and race often closed doors before they even opened. Still, she pressed on, leveraging her furniture store as a launchpad for her groundbreaking new product. She demonstrated the cabinet bed to customers, highlighting its utility and craftsmanship. Slowly, word spread.
Sarah employed local carpenters to help meet demand, creating jobs for others in her community. The folding cabinet bed became more than a side project; it was a symbol of innovation, resilience, and the drive to make life better.
Though Sarah’s story doesn’t end with a vast empire or widespread fame, her impact endures. She proved that a side project born of empathy and necessity could break barriers and create lasting change. In every folding piece of multifunctional furniture today, there is a whisper of Sarah E. Goode’s vision and perseverance.
In 2012, the Sarah E. Goode STEM Academy, a science and math based school, was opened in south Chicago to honor her contributions. The school focuses on science, technology, engineering, and math to help prepare and inspire students for their careers and the years of late night tinkering ahead of them.
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