(Click and click again to enlarge photos)


Published in The Seattle Times online on May 9, 2024
and in Pacific NW Magazine of the printed Times on May 12, 2024
Kelso bridge collapse 101 years ago ranks as the state’s deadliest
By Clay Eals
When we think about bridges, it’s hard to avoid profound symbolism. In a sense, transportation is life. Living, we move. Reaching obstacles, we cross them, often with a bridge.
Untold millions of vehicles cross bridges worldwide each day. So when a span such as Baltimore’s south-bay Key Bridge goes down, taking lives and causing massive disruption, we pay attention.

What’s our state’s deadliest bridge disaster? You won’t find it in populous Puget Sound. Instead, it was in southwest Washington — the Jan. 3, 1923, collapse of 1907’s Allen Street drawbridge connecting Kelso with fledgling Longview west of the Cowlitz River. The official death count was 17, the real number likely higher.

The fatal factor was the icy Cowlitz current that was running 15 feet higher than normal. So forceful was its flow that some bodies were swept downstream for blocks, with others thought to be pulled two miles south to the Cowlitz’ confluence with the wider Columbia River.
Triggering the calamity was a proverbial perfect storm of commerce, weather and what some called neglect.
In 1922, Kansas-based Long-Bell Lumber Co. began developing mills and Longview itself on 11,000 sprawling acres west of Kelso and the Cowlitz. That December, cut logs crowded the Cowlitz, pressing against the span. By Jan. 2, the jams were cleared, but rain poured and heavy worker traffic persisted over the bridge.

The next day, during rush hour at 5 p.m., with an estimated 100 people, 15 cars and two horse-drawn wagons on the bridge deck, a steel suspension cable broke, causing the structure to twist and toss autos and people into the “splashing, grinding horror of the river,” reported the Seattle Post-Intelligencer. Rescues and recoveries extended into the next day and beyond.
A former harbor engineer had warned of the bridge’s poor condition, exaggerating his point by saying, “A toothpick might topple it over.” Other officials and experts were puzzled by the cable snap. Nearby, a stronger new bridge was taking shape but was not completed until four months later.
“Kelso will have the sympathy of the entire state in its dark hour,” The Seattle Times editorialized. “The distressing accident which resulted in the loss of many lives causes a shock which makes mere condolences seem futile and ineffective. Even to communities somewhat inured to accidents of various sorts, the magnitude of Kelso’s disaster has a stunning effect.”
Today, the need for reliable Cowlitz crossings in Kelso is filled by two newer spans downtown, plus a third closer to the mighty Columbia. But the lesson remains: Failure of a bridge can exact a lethal toll.
WEB EXTRAS
Thanks to Bill Watson, curator of the Cowlitz County Historical Museum, and especially Dan Kerlee for their invaluable help with this installment!
To see Clay Eals’ 360-degree video of the “Now” prospect and compare it with the “Then” photos, and to hear this column read aloud by Clay, check out our Seattle Now & Then 360 version of the column.
Below, you also will find 1 additional video, 4 additional photos and, in chronological order, 11 historical clips from The Seattle Times and Seattle Post-Intelligencer online archive (available via Seattle Public Library), Newspapers.com and Washington Digital Newspapers, that were helpful in the preparation of this column.
Also, immediately below is the lead sheet for an original song submitted to our blog and written by Paul Backstrom of Kirkland. It includes a reference to the Kelso bridge collapse of 1923.















