2023 Find of the Month Archive

Bay Freeway

As part of a planned system of new highways in Seattle, city engineers plotted an east-west expressway called the Bay Freeway. It was to connect SR 520, Interstate 5, and SR 99 south of Lake Union roughly along Mercer Street. A bond issue was passed in 1960 to fund the project, and it was incorporated into the city's comprehensive plan.

Anti-freeway sentiment in the city grew throughout the 1960s and led to the cancellation of the R.H. Thomson Expressway in 1970, but the Bay Freeway was still a go. Plans approved that year included an elevated section that critics believed would wall off Lake Union from the rest of the city. Letters and telegrams came to the City Council from constituents expressing their opposition. Some had questions about the project's funding, but many just did not believe the freeway was desirable or necessary. Representative quotes included:

"I am totally opposed to the construction of the Bay Freeway. Freeways have amply proven themselves individually ugly, divisive to the aesthetic unity of a city, and generative to more cars than they can handle. Seattle freeways, especially, are eyesores."

"I am at a loss to understand how, in the face of mounting evidence against the desirability of further freeway-building in the city, the Council nevertheless is considering additional freeway construction… it's been demonstrated time and again that additional freeways do not relieve congestion. In fact, they tend to worsen it by attracting an even greater volume of traffic, which, in turn, raises further needs for more freeway building."

"[M]y main objection is the physical and artistic damage to the remains of a possibly lovely city, mine as well as yours."

After a lawsuit and a court judgment stopping the project, City Council put the project before voters in a February 1972 referendum. Fifty-five percent of Seattle voters were opposed to the plan, and the Bay Freeway was canceled.

Animal hydration

A Public Drinking Fountain Committee was convened in 1908 to determine the need for public water sources throughout the city. Various communications were sent to City Council to be sure that the needs of horses were taken into consideration. A petition from the King County Humane Society requested installation of "a sufficient number of drinking fountains that will accommodate at least two horses at a time."

City Council received pleas from residents of Interbay for a fountain "for man and beast" to be installed at 15th Avenue W. and Grand Boulevard (now Dravus Street). They noted that this "large and populous district...surrounded by manufacturing, milling, railway and other commercial interests" was a busy travel route between downtown, Ballard, and Fort Lawton. One writer noted that with the steep grades in the area, "I know of a great deal of suffering that has been caused to teams by lack of water along the road." No public water was currently available in the area, so that "the traveling public are compelled to ask for water at the adjacent stores or barber-shop."

Concern for hydration was not limited to horses. A resident of West Seattle wrote to Council requesting "a combination drinking fountain which contains a sanitary drinking fountain for the horses, a bubbling fountain for the people, and a sanitary fountain or arrangement where the small animals, such as dogs etc. can get a drink."

The fountains outlived their usefulness as the horse and carriage era ended. In 1943 the Superintendent of Water W.C. Morse was looking into removing a horse drinking fountain from Pioneer Square, as the drain connection was failing and causing damage to the nearby pavement. City Council asked that the fountain be left there but requested that the Parks Department should plant flowers in the water trough.

Rolling Stones concerts

The Rolling Stones announced that they would play two shows at the Seattle Center Coliseum on June 4, 1972, one at 4:00 and the other at 10:30. All tickets were to be sold at Memorial Stadium on a day in early May for $6 each, with a limit of four tickets per person.

Ticket sales did not go smoothly. Fans started gathering the day before and about 2000 slept overnight at Seattle Center. By the time the sale started, thousands of people were mobbing the two ticket booths and some were fainting and panicking in the crush. Eventually police were called to manage the crowd and were able to organize the lines. In response to a query from the Times Troubleshooter, the police chief explained that having tickets sold first-come-first-served in one location was stipulated in the band's contract. He added that "the ticket agency acted in good faith by having eight off-duty police officers for crowd control. Unfortunately, the fervor of the crowd was more than the officers could handle very effectively."

Given the chaos of ticket sales and the difficulties inherent in holding two large concerts in short succession, much thought was given by Seattle Center staff to the logistics of the day. A few days after the shows, Seattle Center's director wrote up a report. First he described the seating strategy:

It has been our experience that at Rock Shows it has become nearly impossible to keep avid rock-fans from leaving their seats, pressing toward the stage and jamming the aisles. Consequently, for safety sake, we use what we call "Festival Seating." All chairs have been removed to allow for free flow of the people on the flat floor.

For security, "fifty-eight large athletic type personnel (football players, etc.) dressed in green ROLLING STONES T-SHIRTS (some with long hair) were effectively stationed across the front of the stage and other areas inside the building." He praised the band's crew as "most cooperative and very professional."

Seattle Center staff used newspapers, radio, and TV ahead of the event to publicize their security and crowd control measures to set expectations and "reliev[e] the minds of parents who are concerned." They made clear that alcohol and drugs would not be allowed into the venue, and that those attending the first show would need to clear out quickly in preparation for the evening concert. The director felt this publicity was an important element in the ultimate success of the day:

Handling 28,000 people is not easy. Be patient, let the people know what is going on and what you expect of them, they will respond. But, DON'T spring in on them all of a sudden – THEY WILL REBEL!! Smile, then everyone will "HAVE A HAPPY DAY."

Smoking bans

Early arguments about smoking appear to have at times turned into a battle of the sexes. In protest of a proposed 1911 ordinance that would prohibit smoking on streetcars, a Dr. Greenstreet complained that "[b]ecause a few idle women who have little else to do, and are selfish enough to deprive thousands of hard-working men of a few moments of innocent pleasure are aggitating [sic] this matter, is no good reason why it should become a law." He sympathized with "the poor devils who have time to smoke only while going to and from their daily toil. They have not the time to petition you and protest against this outrage about to be perpetrated by a few gadding women who should be at home long before the hour when they increase the number of straphangers."

Apparently Greenstreet's letter was published, as it drew a response from a lawyer named John Mills Day. Day pointed out that the letter

&...in addition to legitimate argument, contains language which is the essence of insult to the women and many of the better men of the City. For instance, there is an insinuation that any woman who goes upon the car when it is crowded, is "gadding" and neglecting her family. There is also an insinuation that if women went upon the street cars at any other time than during the evening rush, they would be free from the nuisance complained of. The truth of the matter is that most women who go upon the cars when they are crowded, go from necessity rather than choice, and the obnoxious use of tobacco is met with at all times of the day and night, wherever and whenever the cars run.

The streetcar ban was vetoed by Mayor Dilling over concerns about enforcement and disproportionate penalties. The following year, Charlotte Jones petitioned for a smoking ban in restaurants, "for the reason that there is no restaurant or cafeteria convenient to my place of business where it is possible for me to eat a meal without having to breathe tobacco smoke at the same time, which nauseates me and injures my health." She added her own gendered take, writing, "I trust that your body, although wholly composed of men at present, will take this step of protecting the helpless and defenceless women on this city who desire to eat in respectable restaurants, from coming into contact with the class of men who make themselves obnoxious by polluting the air in public places."

Jaywalking

A prohibition on crossing the street except at intersections in the downtown area was proposed to be added to traffic regulations in 1914. Mayor Gill vetoed the bill, not because he was opposed to the regulations, but because he thought they should be applied citywide and not just between Pine and Yesler. He believed a circumstance "where one might safely cross the streets in ninety nine per cent of its area and violate a law in one per cent" would be confusing and difficult to enforce.

Gill’s veto succeeded in killing the bill at this time, but a similar measure passed in 1917, also pertaining just to the downtown area. The day before the new law was to start being enforced, the Seattle Times warned its readers:

Watch your step! Beginning tomorrow, when Seattle’s new traffic code goes into effect, an erroneous move either in the wrong direction or at the wrong time may bring Mr. or Mrs. Seattleite before one of the city’s sedate and learned judges... For Seattle’s new traffic code is something unprecedented and unknown to Seattle walkers. In brief it places the responsibility for the safety of a pedestrian largely upon himself. It relieves automobile and vehicle drivers to a large extent from complete responsibility for all accidents and gives the pedestrian his share of the blame if he should be struck through carelessness.

It is a serious thing. Just suppose a man were hit by an automobile in the downtown business district while crossing the street diagonally – which method of crossing is prohibited in the new code. While he is lying in the hospital watching the various portions of his anatomy reunite some judge may decide that he was to blame for the accident. Then, along with the hospital, nurse, medicine and doctor bills he would have to contribute a small sum – even up to $100 – for the privilege of being hurt.

An editorial in the same edition of the newspaper defended car owners from those "who think the man who owns an automobile is a 'highway baron' who lays claim to ownership of all the roads and whose special delight in life is tooting his horn to make the crawling pedestrian jump." As for the new regulations, the writer argued, "There is no reason why the pedestrian should be granted rights that do not extend to the autoist. Hereafter he will be busy watching his own step and will not have so much time to stand in the middle of the street and grin at the auto owner who is being reprimanded for attempting to run by a signal."

Municipal lodging house

In 1911, City Council considered establishing a municipal lodging house for the temporary housing of homeless men. A report to council from the Charity Organization Society outlined how such a facility could be set up and run. They recommended an experienced superintendent be put in charge who would do more than provide a place to sleep. The report stressed that “the operation of a lodging house should be a part of a social program for the upbuilding of character and a reclamation of such individuals as may temporarily need assistance… Without these features a municipal lodging house serves only the comparatively unimportant part of housing men without lodgings.”

The Society envisioned that the lodging house superintendent would work closely with the City Employment Bureau with the goal of finding jobs for the men. It was suggested that the bureau coordinate with other cities “so that an over supply of labor in Seattle might be drawn to North Yakima or Spokane for instance if conditions warranted.”

In addition to the lodging house, the report recommended the establishment of a “farm colony” to which residents of the lodging house would be sent after three days or so if they were not able to find a job. Residents of the farm would be expected to provide manual labor while living there, and would be required to stay until they found a self-supporting job. The farm colony was seen as an “almost essential corollary” to the lodging house, as it was thought that it would serve as a deterrent to anyone thinking of coming to Seattle to take advantage of free housing. The report also recommended enforcement of vagrancy laws, as well as the return of non-residents to their families in other cities.

The lodging house idea got as far as a draft ordinance but no further. Attached to the bill are two pages of statistics showing the demographics of homeless men helped by the Society over the course of a month and a half. These details give a rare view of Seattle’s homeless population in this era, with information including age, time in town, and nationality. “Cause of application” is also noted for some, with the reasons given including unemployment, sickness, and old age. A penciled note mentions that the Life Boat Mission “furnished over 3000 free meals during past 20 days” and had an average of 180 homeless men sleeping on their floor each night.

Noise at the Silk Hat

In 1933, neighbors of Capitol Hill's Silk Hat restaurant had had enough of the noise associated with the establishment. Clerk File 140919 contains multiple missives (some notarized) complaining about automobile horns, loud talking, and intoxicated patrons. One complaint declared the "hallooing, singing, and swearing by both men and women or dancing on Olive Way" to be "more than I am able to stand."

A tenant of the nearby Harvard Crest Apartments summed up the problem while giving 30 days notice to the building manager:

My dear Sir:

With considerable regret I am asking that you consider this a thirty day notice of removal. In addition to the extra cost I am put to, the unnecessary noise emanating from the Silk Hat Hamburger across the street has almost unbalanced our mentality.

You assured me that the top floor would be quiet and should you hope to keep anyone in my apartment, you should rent it hereafter with a thorough understanding that the occupant could endure the din from without. I would suggest your finding a deaf person.

For your information, the hilarity in the most part begins after automobile parties have dined at the Silk Hat. Sirens and automobile horns seem to be their playthings and others enjoy cat-calling each other or singing Sweet Adeline. An occasional fight may add zest to some who enjoy this thing but my wife and I cannot stand it any longer.

May I suggest that you hang out the sign Apartments for the Deaf? Trusting this is timely notice, I am

Yours truly,
Orrin F. Drew

P.S. I have smelled so many hamburgers (terrible when the wind is right) that I cannot imagine caring for one during the rest of my days.

The complaints were placed on file and there is no sign City Council took action against the restaurant.

The Stoned Age

In response to a report on teenage drug use, the Seattle-King County Youth Commission embarked on a project to develop an educational pamphlet to be distributed in schools. Titled "The Stoned Age," it was meant to speak to youth on their own terms about drugs and their dangers. In September 1967, the commission reviewed an early draft of the pamphlet and found it "believable, non-moralistic, and hopefully convincing to the potential user."

Rev. Thomas Miller of the Calvary Bible Presbyterian Church also reviewed the draft and disagreed strenuously with its approach. He wrote to local elected officials to protest that the pamphlet "presents the use of drugs...in an attractive manner." Other citizens followed Miller's lead and wrote in to ask that the pamphlet be killed or significantly revised, although it seemed that many had not actually read it. A particularly colorful letter to Mayor Braman asked him to "convey to these bean-brained nitwits who are authoring this bulletin that the last thing in this world our youngsters need is the favorable viewpoint on drugs of a bunch of fuzzy-minded morally bankrupt degenerates."

Much of the criticism centered on a section called "Up, Up, and Away" which highlighted reasons people use drugs. Early readers felt the section was too positive about drug-related effects and experiences. Mayor Braman agreed that the section needed stronger rebuttal.

In a response, the Youth Commission's director emphasized that this was an early draft, but noted that "any publication dealing with the subject of youth and drugs must be scrupulously honest. Young people of today are very knowledgeable on this subject, and are able to quickly differentiate fact from myth. There is consensus that a highly moralistic, unrealistic approach will be rejected out-of-hand by our prospective readers." As for the Up, Up, and Away section, he pointed out that these "pro" arguments must be addressed, as "denial of their existence is to avoid looking at this subject in an honest, forthright manner." His letter included a list of the local health, education, and law enforcement experts who were on the project's editorial board.

The pamphlet went through further drafts that met with Mayor Braman's approval, if not that of Rev. Miller and other critics. In response to one protest letter, Braman wrote, "[F]rankly I find it difficult to see why concerned people such as yourself believe that this is an effort to promote the use of drugs. I think the one thing that we adults must accept is that young people today talk an entirely different language than we do, and merely delivering them the old style hell-and-damnation lecture rolls off their backs like water off a duck, and doesn't affect them in the slightest."

The pamphlets were finally printed in mid-1968 and were distributed along with a drug education syllabus funded by the Seattle Foundation and the Elks Club.