Fête de la musique 2017

Summertime begins with the Fête de la Musique and  the happiness to walk in Paris, listen to some live music. We are rue des Carmes in Quartier Latin Paris 5th.

L’été commence avec la Fête de la Musique et la joie de se balader dans Paris. Nous sommes rue des Carmes dans le Quartier Latin Paris 5eme

Our favorite band : the Parisian Art Rock Trio LLOYD PROJECT playing , rue Descartes at the Antidote since three years. There is such a crowd, that the street is blocked. Their style is a mix of rock and rage and poetry of pop music… Amazing !!!

Notre groupe préféré : LLOYD PROJECT , trio parisien d’Art Rock qui joue rue Descartes à l’Antidote depuis trois ans. Il y a une telle foule que la rue est bloquée. Leur style est un mélange de rage du rock et de poésie de pop music…

Seattle Now & Then: The Alley That Became I-5

(click to enlarge photos)

THEN: Everything here is terminal. When Werner Lenggenhager recorded this section of Melrose Place N. in the mid-1950s he understood that soon after – in five years or ten – it would be transformed into the Seattle Freeway. It was especially revealing to find the tall hillside home, here on the left, in an aerial photograph, also from the mid-1950s.


NOW: Jean Sherrard’s repeat was recorded from the Denny Way overpass above Interstate Five, or nearly two blocks south of the muddy prospect from which Werner Lenggenharger recorded his spattered Melrose Lane North. Readers wishing to look upon Lenggenhager’s spot should head north on Melrose Avenue North to the point from which they can look directly west across the freeway to the letter Q in the Recreational Equipment Coop’s sign on the west side of Eastlake Avenue. That’s just north of John Street. Werner’s muddy alley was close to the freeway’s existing green center-stripe.



Here gain is Werner Lenggenhager on Melrose Place North, but this time looking in the opposite direction to the north and in the summer with the Place now dry and looking like it has been so for a while.    We do not known which of the two Werner shot first.   We used this one a few years back in our book Washington Then and Now, and the summer comparison also appeared in Pacific, but before they added color to our pages – and many others – in the magazine.   


Again, for this Sunday “repeat” (at the top) Jean respects the historical prospect of the featured photograph and returns to it – barely.  To really repeat the prospect of the featured photographer, Werner Lenggenhager, would require a hovering drone or the guiding and guarding of a phalanx of the Washington State Patrol Troopers accompanying Jean north of Denny Way to the narrow green belt of shrubbery between the Seattle Freeway’s lower south bound lane and its higher north bound lane.

While I cannot prove it, I’m pretty confident that Werner Lenggenhager  knew Lawton Gowey, the photographer of this look north through the grading work on I-5 where Denny Way temporarily crossed over with a wooden trestle.

What Jean did instead was take to the closest prudent prospect: a position above interstate-5 on the Denny Way overpass.  From there, looking south, his “now” reveals an electric cityscape of high-rises and cumulous clouds standing above the north-bound late-morning traffic.  It is an eye-popping contrast.  Within a few seconds of an I-5 driver heading north under Denny Way they will pass by Lenggenhager’s “alley-scape” position in the mid 1950s. It is about a block and a half north of Denny Way.  (We found it with the help of aerial photographs.) The sensitive perambulator was then exploring what he knew was the doomed block-wide strip between Eastlake and Melrose Avenues, then recently condemned for cutting the Seattle Freeway.

Frank Shaw dates this snap of his May 30, 1962. He looks south on the nearly cleared construction swatch between Melrose Ave. (proper) and Eastlake Avenue.  The site is near where the comely stairway on Republican Street climbed the hill east from Eastlake.   The trees here would soon be felled.  The Pontius Court  Apartment House that was built just north of the steps (see the photo below this one)  has been razed.  It was one of the greater victims of or losses to the freeway construction.. 
The Pontius Court, looking east from Eastlake up the Republican Hill Climb.
The Republican Street Hill Climb looking east from Eastlake ca. 1910, before the Court.  We have written features earlier for both the Hill Climb and Pontius Court subjects.  The latter is included at the top of the Edge Links below.  

The Austrian Werner Lenggenhager moved to Seattle in 1939 and was soon working at Boeing.  He lived on nearby Olive Street just up the hill. As already not above, this is not the first time we have followed Lenggenhager to this alley.  On July 28, 2001 “now and then” featured him looking north at it in the summer when the mud had turned to dust.  Next Spring (2018) when Jean and I hope to publish a book featuring an idealized “best of” collection of one hundred picks from the by now nearly 1800 “now and thens” printed in Pacific since the feature started early in 1982, we will want to include one or the other  (mud or dust) of Lenggenhager’s nostalgic preludes to the Seattle Freeway.

A slide-prone section of the I-5 construction near the Lakeview overpass. Note the City Light steam plan with its stacks on the left.

Werner Lenggenhager retired from Boeing in 1966, giving him more time to explore both Seattle and Washington State with his camera.  Parts of the many thousands of prints that make up his oeuvre are kept in public collections, including those at the University of Washington Library, the Museum of History and Industry and the Seattle Public Library.


Anything to add, boys?  Yes Jean more faithfully ours and the  readers’ Edge Links that will click us about the neighborhood and beyond, followed by a few more from more ancient features.  For those you’d best click-and-enlarge to read them – sometimes twice.

THEN: In the 32 years between Frank Shaw's dedication picture and Jean Sherrard's dance scene, Freeway Park has gained in verdure what it has lost in human use.

THEN: We give this panorama from the roof of the Washington Athletic Club a circa date of 1961, the year that Horizon House, a First Hill retirement community, first opened its doors to residents at Ninth Avenue and University Street. The high-rise L-shaped Horizon stands top-center. (Lawton Gowey)

THEN: The Cascade neighborhood, named for its public grade school (1894), now long gone, might have been better named for the Pontius family. Immigrants from Ohio, they purchased many of the forested acres north of Denny Way and east of Fairview Avenue.


THEN: Long-time Wallingford resident Victor Lygdman looks south through the work-in-progress on the Lake Washington Ship Canal Bridge during the summer of 1959. Bottom-right are the remnants of the Latona business and industrial district, including the Wayland Mill and the Northlake Apartments, replaced now with Ivar’s Salmon House and its parking. (Photo by Victor Lygdman)


THEN: A.J. McDonald’s panorama of Lake Union and its surrounds dates from the early 1890s. It was taken from First Hill, looking north from near the intersection of Terry Avenue and Union Street. (Courtesy, Museum of History and Industry)

THEN: With great clouds overhead and a landscape 45 years shorter than now, one vehicle – a pickup heading east – gets this part of State Route 520 to itself on a weekday afternoon. (courtesy Lawton Gowey)

THEN: Werner Lenggenhager's recording of the old St. Vinnie's on Lake Union's southwest shore in the 1950s should remind a few readers of the joys that once were theirs while searching and picking in that exceedingly irregular place.

THEN: A carpenter’s jewel with Victorian ornaments recorded by a tax assessor’s photographer in 1936, nestles at 615 Eastlake beside the surviving Jensen Apartments, aka the O’Donnell Building, on the left. (Courtesy Stan Unger)

THEN: Samuel McKnight’s early 1890s panorama of Lake Union also looks north into most of Seattle’s seventeen square-mile annexation of 1891, when the city limits were pushed north from McGraw Street to 85th Street. Fremont, Edgewater, the future Wallingford, Latona, and Brooklyn (University District) were among the neighborhoods included. (Courtesy, Dan Kerlee)

THEN: The scene looks north through a skyline of steeples toward the Cascade neighborhood and Lake Union, ca. 1923.

Then: Photographed from an upper story of the Ford Factory at Fairview Avenue and Valley Street, the evidence of Seattle's explosive boom years can be seen on every shore of Lake Union, ca. 1920. Courtesy of MOHAI

THEN: The Dog House at 714 Denny Way was strategically placed at the southern terminus for the Aurora Speedway when it was new in the mid-1930s. (Photo courtesy of Washington State Archive, Bellevue Community College Branch.)

THEN: The city’s north end skyline in 1923 looking northwest from the roof of the then new Cambridge Apartments at 9th Avenue and Union Street. (Courtesy, Museum of History and Industry)




CLICK CLICK the ABOVE to Read Read









Freeway Park Cannonball. Are you allowed to do this?


With the Federal Bldg at the center-bottom, and looking north-northeast through the razing and wreckage when I-5 begins its building through the Central Business District.  What else can you identify?  The Exeter appears in both this aerial, near its center, and upper-right in the sculpture photo above it.   The week’s  featured site is just out-of-sight off the top of the aerial.  CLICK CLICK TO ENLARGE by all means.

Seattle Now & Then: Ballard Beginnings

(click to enlarge photos)

THEN: Looking south – we propose – from near the corner of Ballard’s NW 58th Street and 22nd Avenue NW, circa 1889. (Courtesy Vera Pells Christianson)
NOW:“Public Plaza” is sometimes added to the name Ballard Commons Park. It is one of Ballard’s few parks, and like the community it too is meager on trees. However, for warmer days it features a “Spraypark,” which is a well-wrought fountain for kids to run through.

This week’s feature may be the earliest surviving look into Ballard.  Beyond that we know little about the photo’s intimate parts. We wonder who lived in any of the about thirty minimal structures that can be barely distinguished through the soft focus and smoke.  The white vapors are most likely from stump fires. The photo’s focus may be the responsibility of the age of the print, the camera, or the person who held it.  We don’t know the photographer’s name, nor are we certain of what the community was called at the time of the recording. However, “Farmdale” is scribbled on the flip side of the worn print I first studied.

This captioned photo recorded near the passage where Shilshole Bay narrows into Salmon Bay (later the site of the Chittenden Locks) is dated 1887 and so snapped at about the time that the future Ballard was being first developed as Farmdale with lots for sale and so more than as a homestead. It was also the year when the Seattle Lakeshore and Eastern Railroad first reached Salmon Bay from the Seattle Waterfront. This photo was used in the now-then feature for August 10, 2014 and is included below as the fifth Edge Link. (Courtesy Michael Maslan) 

Farmdale was Ballard’s first and short-lived name.  In 1889 Ballard got its second name, Gilman Park, and the once forested acres that gently sloped south to the north shore of Salmon Bay were divided into hundreds of residential lots and a few larger ones for the factories that were soon strung along the Salmon Bay shoreline.  Daniel Hunt Gilman was one of a quartet of robust capitalists who organized the ambitiously named West Coast Improvement Company to develop the site.  The place was extraordinary fit for building a community for sawyers not farmers. Judge Thomas Burke,


Three Swedish knittters in Ballard (Courtesy, Ballard Historical Society)

another of the ruling quartet, was happy to give up his bucolic visions of gardens in Farmdale for factories.  In four or five chop-chop years the mill town became “The Shingle Capitol of the World,” and more often than not it smelled like Cedar. With its 1890 incorporation, came the third try at naming, and the citizens chose Ballard.  It was given in thanks for William Rankin Ballard the steamboat captain who before the railroad made it to Salmon Bay regularly delivered settlers and their needed supplies to its shores.  Capt. Ballard was another of the company’s quartet.

Early Ballard waterfront as seen from northwest end of Queen Anne.

Of the two waterways shining in the featured panorama at the (very) top, Salmon Bay is, of course, the nearer one.  The other is Elliott Bay.  The wide headland on the horizon is West Seattle.  Right-of-center, its highest elevation is “High Point,” the top of Seattle. (The high point tanks were included last week in a Bradley snapshot taken from South Alki Beach.  They appear on the horizon.)  High Point is about 9 miles south of the Ballard waterfront and about 510 feet above it. Magnolia is on the right, and Queen Anne Hill on the left, with the lowland, Interbay, between them. Left-of-center, at the southwest corner of Queen Anne Hill, the old growth trees of Kinnear Park stand out – and up. For a formality of one dollar, its namesake sold Kinnear Park to Seattle in the fall of 1887, about the time of the featured photo.

An early color-processed slide (and hand-painted) of Kinnear Park, but not as seen from colorful Ballard.

Our featured photo is also printed on page 24 of the illustrated history “Passport To Ballard, The Centennial Story.”  The caption there reads, “The Gilman Park community on Salmon Bay, on the eve of incorporation.  This is one of the earliest known photographs of the community.  Old notes identify the street as 22nd Avenue NW.”  Jean and I think this likely.  We choose NW 57th Street as the repeat for the graded path and planked boardwalk that runs – ca. 1889 – behind the surviving fir tree on the left.

Ballard ambassadors aboard the friendly Tillicum
Salmon in the window for counting and tourists entering the Lock’s fish ladder and heading east to fresh water.
The Terily Tug leaving the locks and heading west into Puget Sound accompanied by two paddle boards. Magnolia is on the left, across the Shilshole Bay. (Jean took this one evening when we lectured to a traveling group of Yale University graduates at a restaurant near the locks on a warm summer evening.)


Anything to add, lads?  TaTa Jean the same routine.  We start with a few recent relevant links that Ron has pulled from the blog itself, and then add a few more that we have scanned for some reason or other from our old clippings.  Some day soon we hope to find a phalanx of well-armed volunteers who will scan them all.


THEN: Looking east from the roof of the still standing testing lab, the Lock’s Administration Building (from which this photograph was borrowed) appears on the left, and the district engineer’s home, the Cavanaugh House (still standing) on the center horizon. (Photo courtesy Army Corps of Engineers at Chittenden Locks)

THEN: James Lee, for many years an official photographer for Seattle’s public works department, looks south over Ballard’s Salmon Bay a century ago. Queen Anne Hill marks the horizon, with a glimpse of Magnolia on the far right. (Courtesy, Museum of History and Industry)

THEN: Ballard photographer Fred Peterson looks south-southeast on Ballard Avenue on February 3rd or 4th, 1916. (Courtesy, Museum of History and Industry)

THEN: Captioned Salmon Bay, 1887, this is most likely very near the eastern end of the bay where it was fed by Ross Creek, the Lake Union outlet. (Courtesy, Michael Maslan Vintage Posters and Photographs)

THEN: A circa 1908 look northeast through the terminus of the Loyal Electric Street Railway line at the corner of now Northwest 85th Street, 32nd Ave. Northwest, and Loyal Way Northwest. (Courtesy, the Museum of History and Industry)

THEN: This look west from the West Woodland neighborhood toward Ballard comes by way of the Museum of History and Industry, with some help from both Ron Edge and West Woodland historian Susan Pierce.

THEN: With his or her back to the original Ballard business district, an unnamed photographer looks southeast on Leary Way, most likely in 1936.

THEN: Built in 1910, Ballard’s big brick church on the northwest corner of 20th Avenue NW and NW 63rd Street lost the top of its soaring tower following the earthquake of Nov. 12, 1939.

THEN: The Ballard Public Library in 1903-4, and here the Swedish Baptist Church at 9th and Pine, 1904-5, were architect Henderson Ryan’s first large contracts after the 20 year old southerner first reached Seattle in 1898. Later he would also design both the Liberty and Neptune Theatres, the latter still projecting films in the University District. (Photo courtesy Lawton Gowey)

THEN: This panorama could have used a tower (or drone) to better survey the size of the June 1, 191l, crowd gathered in Fremont/Ross to celebrate the beginning of construction on the Lake Washington Ship Canal. (Courtesy, Museum of History & Industry)

THEN: Ballard’s short-lived fire station at the southwest corner of Broadway (NW Market Street) and Burke Avenue (Russell Ave. NW) circa 1903. Looking northwest the view includes, above the horses, a glimpse of Sypher’s Hall, a rentable venue for playful and/or political events. (Courtesy, Museum of History and Industry)



First appeared in Pacific, May 6, 2001




First printed in Pacific, June 14, 2001




Fist appeared in Pacific, December 11, 1988


Seattle Cedar looking north across Salmon Bay from the Fishermen’s Terminal, or near it.


First appeared in Pacific June 24, 1984


First appeared in Pacific, July 15, 1984


First appeared in Pacific, August 1, 1999



Top: Digging the large lock. Middle: Filling the large lock during the Big Snow of 1916 as an emergency measure to moved water taxis and other vessels off the lakes and around Magnolia to Elliott Bay. The trollies between downtown and then north end were all snowed-in. Bottom: The Big Lock with the Army Corps’ stern-wheeler Preston heading for the lakes.  (CLICK TWICE TO ENLARGE)
Nearly “dewatered” large lock separated from the passing temporary channel for chipping by a coffer wall. The view look east.


First appeared in Pacific November 18, 2007
Appeared in Pacific first on October 31, 2004
Ballard from 14th Ave. nw at the northwest corner of Queen Anne Hill. Note the old Ballard trolley and wagon bridge on the far right, and the Great Norther Railroad’s curving trestle to the waterfront.  CLICK CLICK TO ENLARGE

Seattle Now & Then: Sea View Hall

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THEN: In 1954, the then 50-year-old Sea View Hall featured swinging, wooden “logoglyph”-style letters to proclaim its name, next to a large television antenna. (Photo from MOHAI, Seattle Post-Intelligencer Collection, 1986.5.9199.1.)
NOW: Terry Mann, proprietor (with partner Glen Poor) of Sea View Hall, now an online short-term rental, displays a welcome sign made from beach wood by her daughter, Margie Almario, at West Seattle High School five years ago. (Photo by Clay Eals)

Back when the beaches of West Seattle offered a remote respite from the raucous rebuilding of downtown Seattle, an outpouring of tents, shacks, camps and cottages welcomed visitors for a salty stay. One of the sturdiest of these was in the neighborhood called South Alki, now more plainly Beach Drive. This unique structure was – and still is — called Sea View Hall.  It was not really a hall and didn’t sport a view of the sea. But the no-less compelling vision from this 1904 vertical-log home was of Puget Sound, a vista that remains today from the second and third floors over the rooftops of houses that sit closer to the water’s edge.

First appears in The Times on January 23, 2000.

One year after its 1904 construction in then-unincorporated King County, it hosted “one of the dainty weddings of the season,” the bride being Marguerite Rose Maurer, daughter of the builder, John Mauer. as reported in the Nov. 5, 1905, Seattle Sunday Times, “The house, which is one of the prettiest on the point, was elaborately decorated and lighted only by candles.”  With its “Adirondike styled logs set vertical rather than horizontal like the “Birthplace of Seattle” Log House museum.  The Lodge and the Museum, with the rustic Bernard Mansion (long the Homestead Restaurant), are Alki Point’s three surviving log houses.

The South Alki trolley stop. See its feature below.
The beach south of Alki Point photographed by Robert Bradley on May 4, 1964. Bradley also recorded the time of day on his slide. It was two in the afternoon. Search, if you like, the highest elevation in Seattle, marked by the two water tanks on the left horizon. (CLICK to ENLARGE)
A ca. 1930 Laidlaw Aerial of Alki Point looking southeast to the South Alki neighborhood on the far right. (Courtesy, the Museum of History and Industry)  CLICK TO ENLARGE

The Sea View Lodge soon became a cherished landmark on South Alki warranting its own colored postcard.  One example kept in the archive of the Log House Museum and dated June 17, 1911, reads invitingly “This is a good town having parties here every week.  Big time here on the 4th, firing up the street already.”

The Stockade Hotel at Alki Beach Drive and 63rd Ave. SW, stood where the trolley along Alki Beach first made its turn south to South Alki in 1908.  By then the hotel and “chicken dinner house” was seven years old.  It seems possible, perhaps even likely, that the Stockade’s vertical log construction help inspired John Maurer to choose the Adirondike style for his family’s South Alki Log landmark.  

Our featured “then” photo dates from 1954, five years before Benny Goltz with her two sisters moved into the Hall when their mother, Margaret, acquired it.  Benny recalls, the place was then nearly “falling down” so much that banks wouldn’t loan her mother money to purchase it. But “Mom fell in love with it,” tapped her savings and hired a carpenter to return again and again to “straighten it up.”  Benny was married at Sea View Hall in February 1968.

Somewhere on Alki, ca. 1910.

This week’s feature is our return to Sea View Hall, having first marked it with the postcard photo for a “now and then” on Jan. 23, 2000. (Its is printed here three or more illustrations up.) We revived our interest because after years of careful restoration and renovation of the Hall and its colorful grounds, it is ready for its starring role in the annual “If These Walls Could Talk” home tour of the Southwest Seattle Historical Society. The tour will be both a wonderfully unique exploration of Sea View Lodge and a fundraiser for the 33-year-old organization that promotes the heritage of the West Seattle peninsula and operates from aforementioned log house-turned-museum.   Runs from 3 to 5 p.m. next Sunday, June 4, rain or shine. The South Alki address for Sea View Lodge, 4004 Chilberg Avenue, is fittingly one block off  the beach and Weather Watch Park.

Porch Hanging on Alki Point, this one site across Stevens Street from the Log Cabin front door.

Those attending (by $10 donation for members, $15 non-members) will be welcomed by proprietors Terry Mann and Glen Poor, as well as volunteer researchers and greeters including Ann McClary, Sandie Wilkinson, Dora-Faye Hendricks, Bobbie Meehan, Molly McNees, Brad Chrisman, Bethany Green, Mary Beth Hatfield. Displays will detail the history of the home and its once-quaint tourist surroundings. For those wanting the benefit of a full presentation on Sea View Hall, plus refreshments and old-time ukulele music, a VIP session is on tap earlier in the afternoon. You can learn more at loghousemuseum.info.


Climbing on Othello up from South Alki.



Just shot a gathering of West Seattle High School alums on the 100th anniversary of its opening. Another in a long series of Clay Eals extravaganzas he calls “group hugs.”

Here’s a pretty high resolution version for your enjoyment:

Anything to add, fellahs?   Yes Jean and we will begin with a question.  How do you reach these heights?  I know you purchased a new extender pole of 22&1/2-plus feet for you heavy Nikon,  Add to that your about nine-foot reach and perhaps a ladder too, with a wide-angle lens – was that the piggybacking that did it?  Or did Clay deliver a cherry-picker to you?

[JEAN ANSWERS HERE:            ]

Somewhere in the bunch of related features below, most of them from West Seattle, you will find one that looks at the same front facade of West Seattle Hi.  It was graciously shot by Clay Eals years ago – when the story was first published.   It was not the first time that Clay helped out with his camera – or more –  for this feature.  Surely there cannot be many others through the history of West Seattle who have given as much exuberant help to its culture as has this director of the West Seattle Historical Society.   I first met Clay thirty-plus years ago when he was the editor of the West Seattle Herald.  I gave him minor help with preparing Westside Story, his and the newspaper’s illustrated history of the peninsula.  I’ve been fond of him every since.


FIRST a bundle of EDGE CLIPS followed by a few more from ancient features with a reminder from Eda Garena, my mother (also called Cherry) “Repetition is the Mother of All Learning.”  (Note: she may have shared it with Horace.)



RON’S LINKS FIRST, followed by a few OLDER LINKS

THEN: Included among the several detailed photos taken for the Bernards of their new and yet rustic Fir Lodge, was this one of the living room with its oversized fireplace and the piano on which Marie, their older daughter, learned to play well enough to concertize. (Courtesy Doris Nelson)

THEN: Twenty years ago the Mukai Farm and Garden on Vashon Island was designated a King County Landmark. (Courtesy, Vashon Maury Island Heritage Association)

THEN: Looking southeast from above Alki Avenue, the Schmitz Park horizon is serrated by the oldest trees in the city. The five duplexes clustered on the right were built 1919-1921 by Ernest and Alberta Conklin. Ernest died in 1924, but Alberta continued to live there until well past 1932, the year this photograph was recorded. (Seattle Municipal Archives.)

THEN: Looking into West Seattle’s Junction and north on California Ave. SW to its intersection with SW Alaska Street in 1941. The Hamm Building, is seen above the light-colored car, and the Campbell Building is at right, behind the G.O. Guy Drugs sign.


THEN: Built in 1893, West Seattle School kept teaching until ruined by the region’s 1949 earthquake. (Courtesy Michael Maslan)

THEN: Totem Place, at 1750 Palm Ave. S.W., was home for Joseph Standley proprietor of Ye Old Curiosity Shop on Colman Dock. His death notice in The Seattle Times for Oct. 25, 1940 described the 86-year-old “Daddy” Standley as “almost as much a part of Seattle’s waterfront as the waves that dash again the seaweall.”

THEN: The Gatewood Craftsman Lodge was built on a road, in a neighborhood, and near a public school all named for the developer Carlisle Gatewood, who also lived in the neighborhood. The three women posing in the third floor’s open windows are the Clark sisters, Jean, Dorothy and Peggy, members of the family that moved into the home in the late 1930s.

THEN: In 1852 many of Seattle’s first pioneers removed from Alki Point by dugout canoe for the deeper and safer harbor along the east shore of Elliott Bay (our central waterfront). About a half-century later any hope or expectation that the few survivors among these pioneers could readily visit Alki Beach and Point by land were fulfilled with the timber quays and bridges along Spokane Street. (Courtesy Seattle Municipal Archive)

THEN: The Seattle Times in its lengthy coverage of the then new Seattle Steel in the paper’s Magazine Section for Sept. 10, 1905 – the year this photograph was recorded – noted that “the plant itself is a series of strong, substantial, cavernous sheds, built for use, not for beauty.” (Courtesy, MOHAI, the Museum of History and Industry)

THEN: The first Alki Natatorium was built in 1905 at Alki Point eight years before the lighthouse. (Courtesy, Museum of History and Industry)




First appeared in Pacific on October 10, 2004.


First appears in Pacific, May 10, 1994


First appeared in Pacific, October 17, 2004


Fist appeared in Pacific, May 19, 1985  CLICK TO ENLARGE





Seattle Now & Then: The Ice Arena

(click to enlarge photos)

THEN: The Mercer Arts Arena’s last hurrah was the exposure of the building’s four original front door Gargoyles. Two were saved and removed. (Courtesy: Museum of History and Industry, and its Post-Intelligencer Collection)
NOW: With its new building on the Ice Arena’s old site, the Seattle Opera will have room for offices, storage, scene assembly, practice and whatever else beckons.
This would probably be from the 1950s with considerable confidence if I had retained the “expert” status I had in high school on the names and years for all American-made autos. Surely some smart reader who has not let this aptitude slip will be able to name the year here from such a crowd of cars.

Jean Sherrard’s and my plans to photographically repeat the inside of Seattle Center’s Mercer Arts Arena (originally the Ice Arena) were interrupted by the recent decision to tear it down.  The arena would seat about 5000 – when not flooded for skating.  It was dedicated in 1928, and so by antiquarian standards did not qualify as “antique.”   And yet in its mere 89 years, the Arena did manage to live within two skins.

This 1927 aerial shows the Civic Auditorium and Arena completed (more or less) and the Civic Field a work-in-early-progress. (Courtesy Ron Edge)  CLICK CLICK to ENLARGE

The birthday suit of concrete dated from 1927 and showed some “Minimal Romanesque” ornaments like arched windows, decorative trim, and four gargoyles that faced Mercer Street above the Arena’s entrance.  These adornments were subdued with Century 21’s architect Paul Thiry’s 1961-2 wrapping (also minimal) with bricks.  They were laid for a modern polish thought more fitting for the “forward thrusting” Fair.  The changes of course were not necessary for the Fair’s performers using the arena like Lawrence Welk, the Century 21 Horse Show, the Mormon Pageant, the Ringling Bros and Shrine Circuses, and the Ice Follies, to name a few.

David and Louisa Denny with their first two daughters.

The immigrant history for the future Seattle Center began in the 1850s with pioneers David & Louisa Denny. By the 1870s the young couple had nurtured a garden to feed their growing family and also much of Seattle.  Beginning in the late 1920s Seattle’s Civic Center grew atop this garden. Its three largest structures, a sports field with covered bleachers, the Arena and the Auditorium – all of them labeled as civic – were bunched south of Mercer Street in what were formerly the Denny’s garden acres.

The Ice Arena on the right, the Civic Auditorium at the center, and Civic Field mostly hidden in the athletic pit beyond the wall on the north side of Harrison Street. (Note the man on the far right who appears to be looking at the lack of action on the field through a hole in the wall. Fourth Avenue is in the foreground.  The PACIFIC published text for the above photo (the clip) is included below, just above Jean’s question “Anything to ad lads?”   We put it there in anticipation of his question.  (Courtesy, Municipal Archive)

The Center’s larger parts had all been nurtured from a modest grant bequeathed in the early 1880s when the Denny’s were still tending their gardens.  The gift to the city was made by a gregarious bar owner named James Osborne. Over nearly a half-century this spirits’-borne endowment gathered a cash pile high enough to raise what the public house owner had wished for, a public hall owned by the public.  The bonus legacy of the Arena was fitted with a floor for the center’s many “Ice Events.” These included amateur and professional hockey, gala ice shows, and extended hours of public skating like that recorded in this week’s featured photograph. Of course, there were skates to rent, instruction to be had, and organ music to accompany nearly a half-year of public gliding.   At the start the floor was frozen five months a year.

The Arena offered skates for rental and expert help for the fitting. Courtesy The Times

The recent razing of the Arena did not raise much commotion.  In his KIRO radio commentary, Feliks Banel, the station’s zestful historian, quote’s Seattle historian David Rash characterization of the Arena as something of an “orphan.”  Rash points out what many others have sensed since Century 21, that the mix of the Arena’s uses – for the most part pop concerts and for the Seattle Opera convenient practice space – with storage – the Arena has had “no built-in constituency of regular users or devoted fans to speak up for it.”  Banel notes, “It’s been offline for so many years.”

The Seattle Times caption for this reads, “Civic Arena, Skating for Charity – Verna Miles, left, of the Connaught Club, Vancouver, B.C., and Gloria Patrick, daughter of Frank Patrick, president of Pacific Coast Hockey League, in a skating number at the ice carnival given at Civic Arena last night for benefit of Children’s Orthopedic Hospital.


Let me provide a close-up detail from the ‘Now’ photo – above the arm of the yellow tractor, a last glimpse of the original seating:

Last view of the last arena seats

Anything to add, lads?  Coitenly and silly too, Jean.

First published in The Times on November 14, 1993.

THEN: Looking west from the southwest corner of 6th Ave. N. and Mercer St. to the trolley barn and yards for the (renamed in 1919) Seattle Municipal Railway in 1936. (Courtesy Lawton Gowey)

THEN: This portrait of the Seattle Gas Company’s storage tank dates from the spring of 1907, which explains its somewhat steeper topography. Between 1908 and 1911, both Republican Street, here on the right, and 9th Avenue N. were lowered to a grade close to that of Westlake Avenue, which is behind the photographer.

THEN: William O. McKay opened show rooms on Westlake in July of 1923. After fifty-seven years of selling Fords, the dealership turned to the cheaper and more efficient Subaru. Now reconstructed, the old Ford showroom awaits a new tenant.

THEN: We imagine that the photographer A.J. McDonald waited for one of his subjects, the cable car to Queen Anne Hill, to reach the intersection of Second Ave. N. and Aloha Street below him before snapping this panorama in the mid-1890s.

THEN: For his May Day, 1901 portrait of the Seattle City Council, the photographer, Anders Wilse, planted them, like additions to the landscape, on the lawn somewhere in the upper part of Kinnear Park. (Courtesy, Seattle Municipal Archives)

THEN: James P. Lee, Seattle’s busy public works photographer of the early 20th century, recorded this 1922 look north from near the west end of Denny Way on the bluff above the then-forming Elliott Way. (Courtesy Museum of History and Industry)



THEN: Pier 70 when it was still Pier 14, ca. 1901, brand new but not yet "polished." Courtesy, Lawton Gowey


THEN: Photographed in the late 1950s, the floating restaurant’s huge on deck hooligan got no competition as yet from the Space Needle (1962) in breaking the horizon.

THEN: Long thought to be an early footprint for West Seattle’s Admiral Theatre, this charming brick corner was actually far away on another Seattle Hill. Courtesy, Southwest Seattle Historical Society.


THEN: In 1913, or near to it, an unnamed photographer recorded this view southeast across the Lower Queen Anne corner of Denny Way and First Avenue North. Out of frame to the left, the northeast corner of this intersection was home then for the Burdett greenhouse and gardens. By its own claim, it offered plants of all sorts, “the largest and most complete stock to choose from in the state.” Courtesy, the Museum of North Idaho.

THEN: Like violence in a classic Greek play, the carnage suggested by this 1934 crash scene on the then new Aurora speedway was kept off stage, either behind the city’s official photographer, or in the county morgue. (Courtesy, Seattle Municipal Archive.)



When Ivar Haglund closed his aquarium on Pier 54 in 1956 he consoled those who wish it were not so with the reminder that one could always visit the Port of Seattle’s Frozen Fish Museum on the Port’s Spokane Street wharf.


Ice skating on what remained of the captive pools on the tideflats.


New skating rink for the Coliseum – minus the ice.


Bitter Lake skating, January 15, 1930.


Green Lake skating in 1903. South end with Woodland Park on the far shore.


Masthead for Diamond Ice and storage at the waterfront foot of Union Street.


Hopefully some of you will remember “Our Daily Sykes” the daily series of picturesque west coast Kodachromes snapped by Horace Sykes, a fire insurance claims adjuster and lecturer on fire safety. This subject, which he titled “Ice left after Columbia Cold Storage Fire, April 5, 1944.” is a rare instance of a work-related subject to be found among the thousands of mostly picturesque slides he left of the American West. You might, we hope, wish to find Sykes here again or for the first time. The daily series ran for 499 days. We stopped there so that we could later fulfill our promise for 500.


On the church towers clue, far right, this ice house was once somewhere in the Rainier Valley.


Union Ice Wagons (which, we suspect, means run exclusively by union teamsters, lined-up on Pike Street’s 200 block early in the 20th-Century. The numbers at the bottom may key to the drivers names, which, we assume (without seeing them) are written on the back of the original stiff-card professional photograph.   


While Puget Sound and much of the Pacific Northwest prepared for its Big Snow of 1916, these visitors to Juneau aboard the steamer North Western, were already ice-wrapped in Alaska. The date, January 25, 1916, is captioned on the face of the “real photo” postcard.


Another Frank Shaw 2&1/4 slide, this of the Pacific Science Center when it was ice-arrayed sometime in the 1960s.


Back in Wallingford. Ice at QFC aka the old Food Giant.   Ice Doors Open and . . .




Lighting ICE in my American Meter Machine studio in the late 1970s. It was a COOP with about a dozen artists with spaces on the top floor – at the southwest corner of Lake Union, across Westlake from the seaplanes.  CLICK TO ENLARGE


Seattle Now & Then: Pier 56

(click to enlarge photos)

THEN: The Japanese barque, Nippon Maru, visited Seattle during the summer of 1965. Here it shares the slip on the south side of Pier 56 with vessels of the Seattle Harbor Tours. (Photo by Lawton Gowey)
NOW: The waterway between Piers 55 and 56 has been elaborately arranged to accommodate the growing fleet of Argosy Cruises (meaning “fleets of ships”), Harbor Tours’ name since 1994.

Intermittently, Kodachrome slides by Lawton Gowey may be expected with this weekly feature.  Lawton was a good friend with whom I often compared and shared photographs.  He began his clicking with his father before the second World War and continued exploring Seattle with his camera until his death in the mid-1980s.  Lawton was both a creator and a collector, and Jean’s and my illustrated lectures – what we used to call “slide shows” – are elaborately enriched due to Lawton’s many interests, including this one of Seattle’s waterfront and its diverse navy.

ABOVE AND BELOW: Lawton Gowey’s enterprising records of an earlier visit of the Nippon Maru to Elliott Bay.  In the top photo the sky seems to have sorted itself, a cloud for every sail. This and the front-lit exposure of the Nippon Maru that follows, Lawton dates June 20, 1962. Note the colors of the infant Space Needle to the right in the expansive portrait of the bark above.

Lawton Gowey has captioned this “bark Nippon Maru forward deck, June 28, 1965.” So the bark is about to leave the port.
A clipping from The Times for June 22, 1965.
The Times clipping showing directly above of this Alaskan Way subject makes note of four Nippon-Maru visits to Seattle, but dates only the Worlds Fair visit of 1962 in addition to the featured portrait from 1965. Here, it seems at least, is one more of the four.  The top of the barque’s masts are seen reaching high above Pike Street Pier No.59 (now home for the Waterfront Aquarium), in 1957.

Lawton worked as an auditor for Seattle City Light, at the northwest corner of Third Avenue and Madison Street, about five blocks east up First Hill from this Elliott Bay slip between Piers 55 and 56 at the foot of Seneca Street. His office was an excellent prospect from which to keep an eye on the waterfront. It was Lawton’s helpful practice to consistently and clearly name and date his subjects on the borders of his slides; for the featured photo at the top the caption reads “The Nippon Maru, Pier 56, June 29, 1965.”  It was the last full day of the Japanese training barque’s visit to Puget Sound before it returned to Tokyo by way of Honolulu.  Capt. Isao Kieda, the ship’s master, thanked the 29,849 persons (by his count) who had boarded his ship during its stay.  “My young cadets have been deeply impressed by your good will and kindness.”

The welcome-spouting fireboat Duwamish, can be seen out in the Bay here above the bow of the Harbor Tourist, Lynn Campbell’s waterfront tour boat.  To of left the fireboat the Nippon Maru heads straight for Pier 56, the likely prospect for Lawton Gowey.   Lawton dates this Kodachrome, June 22, 1965.
A clip from The Times for June 30, 1965.
The Harbor Tourist navy has here added The first (I think) of the Lynn Cambell’s Goodtime boats. Note the Seattle Aquarium sign (with the neon whale) at the end of Pier 56, and at the side of the warehouse the then very popular import shop, Trident. Take some time to read here below Trident’s curious promotion of its exotic service to the kitsch consumer.
An intimate Greeting from Trident and October 9, 1962,

Parked to the reader’s side of the Nippon Maru in the featured photo at the top are two vessels belonging to Lynn Campbell’s Harbor Tours, long since renamed Argosy.  Campbell was stocked with zest, and long-lived.  Self-taught, he lectured his passengers on waterfront history or anything else that came up.  Following WWII, he started a tugboat business hauling logs across Puget Sound that soon developed into the popular showman’s affordable and interpreted floating tours, most of them around Elliott Bay and/or between it and Lake Washington. Campbell’s daughter Charlotte, a wharf rat, was often aboard.  She recalled that in the early 1950s, “This was a working waterfront.  Train cars backed into docks.  The bows of great ships loomed over our heads.” That soon changed.

The Seattle Times introduction of Campbell’s Harbor Tourist, from a 1953 clip, June the fourteenth.  [CLICK CLICK ot ENLARGE]
The bay-side end of Pier 56 showing the Marine Aquarium’s optimistic identification with the whale – any whale – before the 1965 capture of Namu.
An early look to Pier 56 access to the Marine Aquarium and the waterfront’s helicopter pad.

By 1965, the year of the Nippon Maru’s visit, Seattle’s waterfront was well into its metamorphosis from traditional maritime work into a midway of cafes like the Cove and import curio shops like Trident – both seen here on the south side of Pier 56. Ted Griffin’s Waterfront Aquarium had opened on the bay-end of Pier 56 for the 1962 Century 21 World’s Fair. The general scramble hereabouts to fill the entertainment holes left by the Fair when it closed in the fall of 1962, included the ambitious Griffin’s aquarium followed in 1965 by his Namu.  Griffin’s well-reported convoy pulled Namu, a net-caged killer whale captured in Alaska, down the inside passage to a new pen at the water end of Pier 56.  Griffin paid for the prized critter out of a gunnysack filled with $8,000 in loose change he had gathered from friends and businesses on the Seattle waterfront. Along the way, news of Namu spread rapidly (and professionally), and an excited flotilla of naturalists, reporters, and happy hour celebrities formed, with nothing more pressing on their schedules than to follow a killer whale to Seattle.

Namu tanked at the water end of Pier 56.
With Namu (and others) caged at the water end of Pier 56, the sidewalk beside Alaskan way became a promenade for protests, here against both the exploiting of whales and the indictment of the Seattle 7. (If you have forgotten the Seattle 7 you may wish to take it with you for keyword visit to Historylink, our state’s on-line encyclopedia of its history. Also the Washington State Press is on the verge of publishing a history of the Seattle 7. I read and loved a prep-copy of the book and learn much.  


Anything to add, guys?  Dearest Jean Randal Sherrard, and hoping I have got the spelling for you middle name correct.  Ron Edge, I, and our readers – I’m confident – wish  you a happy 60th Birthday – so Young!   And so fit.  Here we will insert a late photo of Elvis Presley that dates surely from before his death at the age of 42 in 1977.   We will also hang from (or below) Elvis a photo of you about seven  years ago (so around age 54) we’ve pulled from a promotional card for one of the many Rogue’s Christmases you have produced at Town Hall.  And let the reader know that you look even better now, having lost many pounds at the hands of no one or nothing but your own diet that includes some nearly magic low-cal jello. And now you exersize as well – exploring the city for …

The late Elvis
Jean ca. 2010

… pictures at an exuberant and often enough joyful pace as you repeat – and re-repeat – 100 locations for the “Seattle Now and Then, Best Of” book that we hope to have completed and delivered to its readers sometime this coming October.   And yet Dear Jean feel confident that should some other concern press upon you at school or somewhere else off the Cougar Mountain Campus of Hillside (dear reader, the school is described in a bug near the top)  we can always postpone for a season or even a year.  For now, though, we pause at the waterfront.  Stay happy , healthy and salty – enough.

Here’s the topper – another happy mass of Edge Clippings of apt and old features.

THEN: From boxcars and rooftops to the planks of Railroad Avenue, excitement builds for the ceremonial re-enactment of the S.S.Portland’s 1897 landing with its “ton of gold” on the Seattle waterfront, the city’s first Golden Potlatch Celebration. [Courtesy, Michael Maslan]

THEN: The S. S. Suveric makes a rare visit to Seattle in 1911. (Historical photo courtesy of Jim Westall)

THEN: About a year after he recorded this fashionable throng on Second Avenue celebrating the visit of President Theodore Roosevelt’s Great White Fleet in the spring of 1908, Frank Nowell became the official photographer for Seattle’s six-month-long Alaska Yukon and Pacific Exhibition in 1909.

THEN:In late 1855 the citizens of Seattle with help from the crew of the Navy sloop-of-war Decatur built a blockhouse on the knoll that was then still at the waterfront foot of Cherry Street. The sloop’s physician John Y. Taylor drew this earliest rendering of the log construction. (Courtesy, Yale University, Beinecke Library)




Seattle Now & Then: North End of Fremont Bridge

(click to enlarge photos)

NOW: An uncredited photographer looks north on Fremont Street from its original intersection with Ewing Street (N. Northlake Way).
NOW: Members of the Fremont Historical Society pose on the Fremont Bridge, prudently to the side of the busier northbound lane and also well ahead of the traffic advancing south from the 34th Street intersection behind them. Member Judie Clarridge, who helped arrange the “shoot,” stands on the far left side. She also advises that Valarie Bunn, far right, “does a good job about finding things” and was especially helpful in researching the featured photo. We should also note that Heather McAuliffe, the Society’s founder in 2004, is present and dressed in yellow and blue on the left. The Fremont Historical Society’s website is http://www.fremonthistory.org.

In line and alert, members of the Fremont Historical Society stand for Jean Sherrard’s “repeat” on the southbound lanes of the Fremont Bascule Bridge. The FHS members have just adjourned from their April meeting (the second Saturday) in the nearby conference room of the Fremont Public Library.  The historians met in part to consider where to stand for the “repeat” of this week’s featured “then” and together study the inviting jumble of meanings included in the older photograph.  The leading goals are, of course, to discover or uncover the “where” and “when” of the photograph, which, judging from the shadows, was recorded around noon.  Although it came with no caption, the members easily knew, and in unison, that his was Fremont Avenue.  They were less secure regarding its uncertain elevation.  That will take more time.

Early during the members joint research someone noticed the sign exhibited, upper-left, in the second floor corner window of the clapboard business block.  It reads “Mabel Canney, Piano”.  Searches of city directories revealed that Mabel, and probably her piano, were located here in 1908 and 1909 but were then followed in 1910 by her younger sister Ella Mae.  This, of course, strongly suggests that the Canneys were a musical family, but also that this subject looking north on Fremont Avenue was photographed sometime when one, or both, of the sisters was in residence there.

Details of downtown Fremont in details from the 1908 and 1914 (left and right) real estate maps of Seattle. (Courtesy, Ron Edge)
The low Fremont Bridge looking north from the Queen Anne side in 1903
A “real photo postcard” by Oakes looks north from the south slope of Queen Anne Hill (on 4th Ave.) to the Fremont Bridge at its old “low” level. Compete the retail storefronts lower-right to those in the later and first “high bridge” print that follows.
An look across the temporary Fremont “high” Bridge on March 18, 1915. The attentive and/or clever eye will find here the top of the brick retaining wall that was built along the south side of 34th Street,  It can be found between the two poles and one mill smokestack on the right and the bright white puff of steam right-of-center.   There is also a larger and brighter part of the wall to be found on the left.  Also the keen reader might wish to compare the grade of the businesses right-of-center with those in the earlier “low” bridge photo placed above this one.    This is the “high” bridge repaired after the the center of its predecessor was swept away in 1914 when the dam at the Lake Union outlet broke, and lowered the lake by seven feet.  
The site of the broken dam seen from the temporary “high” Fremont Bridge in 1914. The pilings supporting the Stone Way bridge in the distance are awkwardly exposed by the sudden lowering of the lake.
The low Fremont Bridge seen from the pedestrian bridge that crossed the Lake Union outlet at its dam ca. 1908.
The Fremont dam and pedestrian bridge seen from the Fremont Low Bridge, probably in 1907. Note the distant standpipe, top-center, (near the subject’s center) of the Seattle Gas Company. It was brand new in 1907 and i\s now the site (of course) of Gas Works Park.
The Fremont Bridge, looking southeast  from the Fremont side in 1907.  A pile-driver stands at the center.
Looking southeast from the Fremont end of the “high” bridge repaired after the 1914 gush. The photo is dated March 3, 1915.
The 1903 reconstruction of the outlet dam.  Note that there is a yet no gas works on the Wallingford Peninsula. 
Dredging a Ross Creek Lake Union Outlet in 1903. Fremont’s lumber mill in on the left and Capitol Hill on the horizon.   On might play hide-and-seek with the mill’s landmark stack.  It can be easily found in several of the photographs above this one.  

With the help and confirmation of other photographs, plus city maps – especially the real estate maps of 1908 and 1912 (as seen for inspection eleven photographs above) – and directories, the deliberating FHS membership could eventually calm the uncanny feeling that something was a kilter here.  Through the years of building the Lake Washington Ship Canal, 1911-1917, there were big grade changes here.

A now-then feature looking north from the south side of Fremont Bridge in 1911. CLICK TO ENLARGE!!!
First appeared in Pacific on June 22, 2003

In the featured photograph at the top in this first block south of the intersection of Fremont Avenue and Ewing Street, now 34th Street, Fremont Avenue was cut off and dropped below a retaining wall.  In the process, both the mercantile building with the Canney piano on the left, and the mill warehouse on the far right, were settled to rest below the deck of the new but short-lived Fremont Bridge constructed in 1911-12.  That was not the bascule bridge, which opened in 1917, but its penultimate span that reached N. 34th Street and the Fremont Business district at the new and still holding elevation.   The investigating Society also discovered that the railroad track, which curves across the bottom of the subject, was kept to pass below the new Fremont Bridge.  It was the Seattle and International Railroad spur that reached Fremont’s main employer, the Bryant Lumber Mill, to the right and behind the unnamed photographer.

Looking north along the north wing of Fremont’s bascule bridge on April 18, 1939.


Anything to add, lads?   Yes Jean, those directly below that Ron Edge put up earlier this evening, and eventually a few more relevant features that I’ll pull from the archive after breakfast.   It is 5:19 AM Saturday morning now, and I’m going to bed.  Remembering  now and in honor of Bill Burden its parent the kind good night “Nighty-Bears.”  I climb the stairs.


THEN: This panorama could have used a tower (or drone) to better survey the size of the June 1, 191l, crowd gathered in Fremont/Ross to celebrate the beginning of construction on the Lake Washington Ship Canal. (Courtesy, Museum of History & Industry)

THEN: If I have counted correctly this ca. 1930 Fremont Baptist Orchestra is appointed with three cellos, eleven violins and violas, two saxophones, two clarinets, one coronet, one oboe, one flute and two members who seem to be hiding their instruments. (courtesy Fremont Baptist Church)

THEN: From the Fremont Bridge, this subject looks northwest across the torrent that followed the washout of the Fremont Dam in the early afternoon of March 13, 1914. Part of the Bryant Lumber and Shingle Mill appears left-of-center. The north end of the Stone Way Trestle appears in the upper right corner. (Courtesy, Seattle Municipal Archives)

THEN: One of a few photographs recording from different prospects the Fremont trolley car barn on Dec.11, 1936. North 35th Street, on the right, was originally named Blewett for Edward and Carrie Blewett. In 1888 the couple, fresh from Fremont, Nebraska, first named and promoted Fremont as a Seattle neighborhood. That year Fremont also got its lumber mill. (Courtesy, Lawton Gowey)

THEN: The rear end of the derailed trolley on N. 35th Street appears right-of-center a few feet east of Albion Place N. and the curved track from which the unrestrained car jumped on the morning of August 21, 1903. (Courtesy, Fremont Historical Society)


THEN: A.J. McDonald’s panorama of Lake Union and its surrounds dates from the early 1890s. It was taken from First Hill, looking north from near the intersection of Terry Avenue and Union Street. (Courtesy, Museum of History and Industry)

Then: Photographed from an upper story of the Ford Factory at Fairview Avenue and Valley Street, the evidence of Seattle's explosive boom years can be seen on every shore of Lake Union, ca. 1920. Courtesy of MOHAI

Built for the manufacture of a fantastic engine that did not make it beyond its model, the Fremont factory’s second owner, Carlos Flohr, used it to build vacuum chambers for protecting telescope lenses. Thirty feet across and made from stainless steel the lens holders were often mistaken for flying saucers. (photo courtesy Kvichak marine Industries.)


THEN: Like violence in a classic Greek play, the carnage suggested by this 1934 crash scene on the then new Aurora speedway was kept off stage, either behind the city’s official photographer, or in the county morgue. (Courtesy, Seattle Municipal Archive.)

THEN: This look west from the West Woodland neighborhood toward Ballard comes by way of the Museum of History and Industry, with some help from both Ron Edge and West Woodland historian Susan Pierce.


Now & Then here and now