Eastside Stories: Seattle's First Railroad and the Eastside

Article by Kent Sullivan, Steve Williams, and John Tun

Eastside Stories is our way of sharing Eastside history through the many events, people places and interesting bits of information that we collect at the Eastside Heritage Center. We hope you enjoy these stories and share them with friends and famil…

Eastside Stories is our way of sharing Eastside history through the many events, people places and interesting bits of information that we collect at the Eastside Heritage Center. We hope you enjoy these stories and share them with friends and family.

Newcastle sprung into existence in the years after Federal land surveyors discovered coal just east of Lake Washington in 1862. Seattle, a village of barely 1000 people in 1870, did not generate much demand for coal, but San Francisco, a city 150 times larger, was in great need of it for industrial and residential use, yet its local source (Mt. Diablo) was nearly exhausted. Seattle also greatly desired a “cash crop” to help provide much-needed capital. The timber and lumber businesses, although thriving on the Olympic Peninsula by 1870, were slow to develop in the Seattle area.

Creating a mining operation from scratch, to get coal to the surface, was a substantial challenge—but it was only half the battle, because the coal still had to be transported nearly 20 miles to the nearest ocean-going port, Seattle. The lowlands surrounding Seattle circa 1865 were densely-forested, old-growth wilderness, with absolutely no infrastructure (railroads, roads, settlements, etc.). Small quantities of coal were initially transported by canoe across Lake Washington, switching to small, shallow-draft barges guided south on the lake, to the Black and Duwamish Rivers, to Seattle’s waterfront, but clearly, a viable commercial enterprise could not be sustained with these methods.

Doing something different and more practical required capital—a lot of it—and there was precious little available in the village of Seattle. San Francisco, by comparison, was flush with investment dollars, and its investors were definitely motivated to help the city continue to grow and thrive. Thus, the Seattle Coal & Transportation Company (SC&T) was born in 1870.

The SC&T rapidly got an operation going that would have made Rube Goldberg proud, involving transloading coal 11 times in its journey and the first steam locomotive in the Puget Sound region.

1890's coal mining in the Newcastle Hill and Bellevue area utilized rail systems to move coal.

1890's coal mining in the Newcastle Hill and Bellevue area utilized rail systems to move coal.

Amazingly, enough money was made this way that the company shut down for an entire year in mid-1873 to build a more-efficient transportation solution involving three rail segments with three separate locomotives, using a 3’ narrow-gauge system, and two lake segments, using two sets of barges propelled by two steam tugs. This system moved 500 tons of coal per day to the company’s wharf and coal bunker at the foot of Pike St., which was built by the first mayor of Seattle, was the largest structure on the Seattle waterfront in the mid-1870’s, and kept a fleet of 9 clipper ships busy transporting coal to San Francisco.

Even this system was deemed too costly and was replaced by an all-rail route in early 1878. (Please refer to Kurt Armbruster’s excellent book, Pacific Coast: Seattle’s Own Railroad for more information on this operation.) The large numbers of men (and their families) required to operate the complex mine and transportation system propelled Newcastle to become the largest settlement in the area outside of Seattle in the years before 1880.

A dedicated group of members of the Newcastle Historical Society (NHS) has been researching all aspects of the SC&T: the route, equipment, production, people, and more. Last year they uncovered the site of an incline used to lower loaded coal cars to the east shore of Lake Washington. Amazingly, part of the incline site survives today (on private property).

An information-packed presentation on many aspects of the SC&T will be given September 26 at the Bellevue Downtown Library at 7:00 PM, in conjunction with NHS and the Eastside Heritage Society. The public is invited and there is no charge. We hope you’re able to attend and learn more about this fascinating, all-but-forgotten chapter of Newcastle’s early industrial history.


Our Mission To steward Eastside history by actively collecting, preserving, and interpreting documents and artifacts, and by promoting public involvement in and appreciation of this heritage through educational programming and community outreach.

Our Vision To be the leading organization that enhances community identity through the preservation and stewardship of the Eastside’s history.


Eastside Stories: Indigenous Stories in a Land of Change

Eastside Stories is our way of sharing Eastside history through the many events, people places and interesting bits of information that we collect at the Eastside Heritage Center. We hope you enjoy these stories and share them with friends and famil…

Eastside Stories is our way of sharing Eastside history through the many events, people places and interesting bits of information that we collect at the Eastside Heritage Center. We hope you enjoy these stories and share them with friends and family.

In a place where violent acts of nature are common in the form of landslides and wildfires, and the threat of earthquakes and volcanoes are ever present, Native American stories show how these kinds of events have unending possibilities for humanity. Many Native American stories from the Eastside and surrounding areas tell of a powerful being who came and transformed the world from what it was into what it is today. Groups like the Snoqualmie and Muckleshoot peoples believe in a deity who aided people and made great changes to the earth and animals. This transformative being is known by many names including The Changer, Moon the Transformer, Xode, Snoqualmie, and Dukʷibeł. The changes and transformations brought on by these creators made the region of western Washington inhabitable for human beings and allowed crafts such as woodworking to begin.

For the Snoqualmie, Dukʷibeł (Moon the Transformer) is the son of a human girl and a star. As a baby, he was stolen away and gained magical powers which allowed him to come back and transform the world. Lake Washington and all the cities and towns around it make up the ancestral land of the Muckleshoot, Snoqualmie, Duwamish, Coast Salish, and other indigenous groups who had and maintain a deep knowledge of the environment around them through sharing skills, stories, and stories.

Snoqualmie Valley Hop Farmers and Workers, c. 1890. L88.029.003.7

Snoqualmie Valley Hop Farmers and Workers, c. 1890. L88.029.003.7

“This is the land of the Changer, the Star Child who descended from the heavens to the fertile earth and, as Moon, married a daughter of the Salmon people, ensuring his human kin happiness and plenty if they would respect the family of his bride.” The Changer pops up in other stories but his largest work was in the shaping of the land around us. It is said that he announced his plan to make the earth into a place for human beings before coming to Western Washington to do his work of creating the world as we know it today. Some animals were angered by this and deer are said to have prepared bow and arrow to fight The Changer. When The Changer came he took the arrows and stuck them into the deer’s head, making them docile and turning them into prey. Actions like this turned the earth into a place where human beings could live.

In the many stories about this transformative deity, the great changes he creates are almost always beneficial to humans as a whole or as individuals. The tribes of our area reveal their great understanding of the changes that came before humanity arrived to the geological landscape. Recently, indigenous stories have begun to gain the respect they deserve as sources of knowledge and a form of information sharing. In fact, the area of Geomythology has been gaining ground in the scientific field as stories from indigenous people around the globe prove to be records of previous geological changes. For example, the Duwamish tell of a large red sandstone boulder called ‘yahos’ that animal spirits are said to live in. These boulders indicate fault lines and areas of previous seismic violence, having been pushed up by the shifting of the earth. Fear of these rocks would have protected people from settling in areas that were prone to dangerous geological occurrences.

The story of The Changer and Moon the Transformer also teach people today about the beautiful land in Washington, west of the Rockies. By making change into a positive force and honoring the one who brings those changes, Indigenous people of Western Washington demonstrate their knowledge that even catastrophic environmental events can bring renewal and replenishment to the earth.


Sources

Beurge, David M. "Native Americans of the Pacific Northwest: An Introduction." American Indians of the Pacific Northwest Collection. Accessed August 06, 2019. https://content.lib.washington.edu/aipnw/buerge1.html

De Los Angeles, Steve. "Story of the Moon." Story of the Moon | Snoqualmie Tribe. 2012. Accessed August 06, 2019. https://www.snoqualmietribe.us/moon

Krajick, Kevin. "Tracking Myth to Geological Reality: Once Dismissed, Myths Are Winning New Attention from Geologists Who Find That They May Encode Valuable Data about Earthquakes, Volcanoes, Tsunamis, and Other Stirrings of the Earth.(News Focus)." Science310, no. 5749 (2005): 762-764.

Matthes, Whitney, Frey, Rodney, Putsche, Laura, and Tripepi, Robert. The Relationship between Plants and People: An Ethnobotanical Study in Partnership with the Muckleshoot Tribe , 2016, ProQuest Dissertations and Theses.

Watson, Kenneth Greg. "Native Americans of Puget Sound -- A Brief History of the First People and Their Cultures." Native Americans of Puget Sound -- A Brief History of the First People and Their Cultures. June 29, 1999. Accessed August 06, 2019. https://www.historylink.org/File/1506

Origins of Places’ Names in Bellevue and Its Surroundings

OR/L 79.79.244

OR/L 79.79.244

When people choose a new city to live, they usually don’t care about the name of their new city. What matters are, for example, location, transportation, or the cost of living in that city, but normally how the name of city sounds doesn’t matter.

                I am one of the unusual persons who decided to move to Bellevue partly because of its name – I felt the tone of its name “Bellevue” comfortable and beautiful. Though I confess that it wasn’t the main reason that I chose Bellevue as my first city in the United States (yes, there were lots of other reasons – of course more practical ones), the name of Bellevue was definitely a part of reasons for me.

                But why is Bellevue called Bellevue? It’s a bit strange to give such a French-influenced name only to Bellevue (as you may already know, Bellevue means “Beautiful view” in French), seeing that there seems to be no such influence on names of other places in Bellevue or surrounding areas.  This question leads me to refer to some origins of places’ names in Bellevue and surrounding areas in this article.

                In Bellevue and its environs, I think one of the most visible categories about places’ names are the ones named after persons’ names. For example, there are Larson Lake (named after Ove Peter Larson, coal miner, homesteaded in 1889), McCormick Park (named after Robert McCormick, who was active in many civic projects during the fifties and the sixties), Meydenbauer Bay (named after William Meydenbauer, one of the first pioneers in Bellevue in 1869) and Mercer Slough (named after Aaron Mercer, settled in August 1869) in Bellevue or near Bellevue. In those cases, the names were chosen either among the persons who engaged socially in the area (This is true of McCormick’s case), or among early pioneers coming to the area.

                There is a case in which a wish about future image of place can form its new name. Factoria, a business district in south Bellevue, was named in anticipation of its future industry. Fortunately, now Factoria is one of the liveliest commercial districts in the city, although it is not certain if this is thanks to its name.  

                Let’s get back to the name of Bellevue itself. I found two possible explanations why it was named Bellevue, and from both points of view, this name is something to do with the first post office in Bellevue, established in the 1880s. The first one tells that, during a conversation among postmen working there, one postman suggested to give to this area a name related to its good view, and in agreeing with him, another proposed to spell it in French way. According to this first explanation, this conversation is the origin of the name of Bellevue.  The second one tells that Lucien and Matt Sharpe, brothers who worked as first postmen in Bellevue, chose the name Bellevue for this area. Actually, their hometown was the city already named Bellevue in Indiana, and that is why they chose this name for their new place of residence. Apparently, we don’t know which one is true (or if there is another true story) because of lack of documentations, but here are two interesting explanations.

                We tend to take places’ names for granted and not rethink about their names, but exploring origins of their names is exploring their histories. If you have some time this summer, it would be interesting to take a glance at some anecdotes behind the name of the place where you live.

 By: Misako - EHC Volunteer

 

References:

-          Historic place names of Bellevue (Bellevue Historical society, in 1989, as a part of Centennial project)

-          “Have you ever wondered where our eastside names came from? Here’s some interesting trivia” Windermere Real Estate

-          Another version of how city came to be known by the name Bellevue, Lucile McDonald, 1980

-          City of Bellevue, About us, https://bellevuewa.gov/discover-bellevue/about-us, consulted on July 9th 2019

Eastside Stories: Eastside Cities

Eastside Stories is our way of sharing Eastside history through the many events, people places and interesting bits of information that we collect at the Eastside Heritage Center. We hope you enjoy these stories and share them with friends and famil…

Eastside Stories is our way of sharing Eastside history through the many events, people places and interesting bits of information that we collect at the Eastside Heritage Center. We hope you enjoy these stories and share them with friends and family.

Cities. Almost all of us on the Eastside today live in one. We may take our cities for granted, but they have not always existed—people had to create them. States are the foundation of the country, and counties are necessary subdivisions of states. Cities are, well, kind of optional.

When Finn Hill joined Kirkland in 2011, one of the last large bits of urban unincorporated area on the Eastside came under the benevolent arm of city hall. Most Eastsiders now live in one of 14 cities in the urbanized areas and five in the rural areas. The boundaries of cities often seem to make little sense, and they sit on top of a patchwork of school and other special districts.

If we were designing a system of governance from scratch we certainly would not end up with anything like the current map of the Eastside. So, how did we end up with our current array of cities?

Cities are formed when a group of residents petition their county government. Once a boundary for a proposed city is agreed upon, residents within that boundary vote on incorporation. Residents can also vote to annex to an existing city, if that city is willing to absorb them.

In the early days of the Eastside, pioneers had few expectations for government services, so cities were slow to form. It can be perfectly fine to live in unincorporated areas without city government. County government provides basic services, and other services are provided by special utility and fire districts and private associations.

Scene on Front Street in Issaquah circa 1910

Scene on Front Street in Issaquah circa 1910

The first wave of incorporations happened in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Issaquah is the oldest city on the Eastside, dating back to 1892 (originally named Gilman). It was a coal mining town that made a successful transition to railroad work. Snoqualmie (1903), Bothell (1909) and North Bend (1909) all had their roots in the early railroad routes and as logging and agricultural commercial centers.

Kirkland, which incorporated in 1905, was slated to become the “Pittsburgh of the West.” By the time Peter Kirk’s big industrial plans fell through, Kirkland had become a good sized settlement, and it made sense to form a city. Redmond, had its roots as a timber and railroad center, and incorporated its growing downtown in 1912. The farming and railroad towns of Carnation and Duvall incorporated in 1912 and 1913, respectively.

In 1910, when the postcard was mailed, Redmond was big enough not only to have its own souvenir cards, but also a local post office to mail them from.

In 1910, when the postcard was mailed, Redmond was big enough not only to have its own souvenir cards, but also a local post office to mail them from.

Then city formation on the Eastside ground to a halt for decades. Growth was slow, as mining and timber activity wound down and few new large industries moved to the still-remote area. Some larger settlements, like those around the mines of Newcastle, disbanded. Bellevue was still just a one-street village, and the vast commercial areas of Overlake were farms and forests. Not much need for new cities.

Then in the 1950s, the Eastside sprang to life.

The new bridge across Mercer Island opened the area to large scale homebuilding, and Bellevue began to resemble a real city. In 1953 Bellevue incorporated with just under 6,000 residents. Feeling Bellevue breathing down their necks, the Points Communities formed themselves into four separate cities: Clyde Hill (1953), Hunts Point (1955), Medina (1955), Yarrow Point (1959). And the tiny artists colony of Beaux Arts Village formed itself into a town in 1954.

Eugene Boyd and Phil Reilly celebrate the incorporation of Bellevue in 1953

Eugene Boyd and Phil Reilly celebrate the incorporation of Bellevue in 1953

Then another 35 years of quiet. Bellevue, Kirkland, Redmond, Issaquah and Bothell gradually annexed surrounding neighborhoods, but many pockets of residential area were perfectly happy with the benign neglect that county government offered.

But along came a less benign force: the Growth Management Act of 1989, which required extensive planning and encouraged higher density development. Nothing gets the attention of otherwise complacent citizens like the prospect of changes in land use, and within a few years, the Eastside had four more cities seeking to control their destiny: Woodinville (1993), Newcastle (1994), Kenmore (1998), Sammamish (1999).

In many respects, cities are the ultimate democratic institutions: groups of free citizens banding together to form a local government that will collect taxes from them and provide services they ask for. The chaotic looking map of the Eastside is the result of tens of thousands of individual decisions by Eastsiders about how they want to shape their neighborhoods. Individual cities take on the character of their residents over time and become unique places.

From chaos comes community.

All images from the collection of the Eastside Heritage Center. If you are interested in obtaining images from our collection, which has extensive holdings from Eastside cities, contact us at collections@eastsideheritagecenter.org


Learn more about the Eastside. Books available from Eastside Heritage Center include:

Lake Washington: The Eastside

Bellevue: the Post World War II Years

Our Town, Redmond

Medina

Hunts Point

Bellevue: Its First 100 Years


Our Mission To steward Eastside history by actively collecting, preserving, and interpreting documents and artifacts, and by promoting public involvement in and appreciation of this heritage through educational programming and community outreach.

Our Vision To be the leading organization that enhances community identity through the preservation and stewardship of the Eastside’s history.

Eastside Heritage Center is supported by 4 Culture

Eastside Heritage Center is supported by 4 Culture

Eastside Stories: The Fleet that Never Was

No. 10 | June 12, 2019

Eastside Stories

The Fleet that Never Was

Eastside Stories is our way of sharing Eastside history through the many events, people places and interesting bits of information that we collect at the Eastside Heritage Center. We hope you enjoy these stories and share them with friends and famil…

Eastside Stories is our way of sharing Eastside history through the many events, people places and interesting bits of information that we collect at the Eastside Heritage Center. We hope you enjoy these stories and share them with friends and family.

By Margaret Laliberte

EHC Volunteer

The head of Yarrow Bay is a dreamy backwater on a sunny summer afternoon these days, but for a few months in the summer of 1945 the bay was the subject of a lively, often acrimonious, debate. Community and civic groups from around Lake Washington squared off against each other over a proposal by the US Navy to place more than three hundred ships for safekeeping between the marshy head of the bay and what is now Carillon Point.

This largely-forgotten slice of Eastside history happened as the war in the Pacific was coming to an end. In fact, on the day the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima the steering committee of the Kirkland Commercial Club met to consider the proposal. (They supported it.)

The Navy needed a place to mothball part of its National Defense Reserve Fleet, smaller ships that could be readied quickly for sea duty. Navy planners identified Yarrow Bay, drew up blueprints for two north-south docks and received a $4,000,000 appropriation for construction. The shoreline would be filled in and the whole bay dredged. This, according to the Navy, would beautify the harbor.

The Seattle Chamber of Commerce, Kirkland officials and a few civic groups and local unions saw the chance to keep jobs as the Lake Washington Shipyard in Houghton slowed down with the end of the war. A local union official argued “It may be hard on the scenery, but you can’t eat scenery. The presence of those ships means jobs. Jobs mean that our kids will be fed.” (At first the figure going around was 2500 jobs, but later it was revealed that there might be only about 100 civilian jobs.; the rest would be Navy personnel.)

Yarrow Bay in 1936. Lake Washington Shipyard (now Carillon Point) near the top, and wetlands that would have been dredged at the bottom

Yarrow Bay in 1936. Lake Washington Shipyard (now Carillon Point) near the top, and wetlands that would have been dredged at the bottom

Supporters faced the vehement opposition of community groups around Lake Washington who feared the “industrialization” of the lake, water pollution, loss of views, and falling home values, to say nothing of all those sailors in town. Fred Delkin of the Hunts Point Community Club put it plainly: “Hunts Point doesn’t want the honky-tonks and other things that will go with [the ships] if a big maintenance crew is kept here.” The Yarrow Point Community Club sent flyers urging residents to protest to their senators, the Governor and Pentagon leadership.

Residents of Houghton, which was unincorporated at the time, felt that Kirkland and the Seattle Chamber of Commerce were selling them out. “They dropped this thing on us like a bombshell,” said Houghton resident Marcus Johnson. “I’d never think of buying a thing in Kirkland now,” said Mrs. Fred Gash. “We’d rather go all the way to Bellevue, and that’s what we’re doing.” The community had a much-loved beach park on the bay: 600 feet of waterfront where hundreds gathered on weekends to swim and picnic. It must have felt impossible to imagine the entire bay filled with military ships.

The Navy flew out two captains, one from the Navy Office of Public Information, to assess local sentiment at three meetings. The first, on Mercer Island, drew 400-500 people from 34 different community organizations bordering Lake Washington. Capt. Campbell’s patient assurances that bilge water and sewage would be safely piped ashore and not dumped into the lake did nothing to alter the vehement opposition of all the community groups. The captain asserted that the federal government had full authority over Lake Washington as a navigable body of water and could establish a moorage wherever it chose, although it would prefer to consult residents’ opinion. (He had the grace to admit that 98% of mail received back in Washington D.C. on the matter was in opposition to the plan.)

View from the northeast side of Yarrow Point, across Yarrow Bay to the Lake Washington Shipyard in 1939. The proposed Navy piers would have filled in this space.

View from the northeast side of Yarrow Point, across Yarrow Bay to the Lake Washington Shipyard in 1939. The proposed Navy piers would have filled in this space.

At the third meeting, held at the Seattle Chamber of Commerce and lasting three hours, sentiment was declared about evenly divided, though the meeting ended in some confusion as to whether the proper rules of procedure had been followed. The Navy captains were clearly weary. “This has been no vacation,” Capt. Campbell admitted. “I’ve heard some of the hottest air I’ve ever heard during my time here.”

Local meetings and debate continued through the summer, but at the end of the day, the Navy ran up its flag and withdrew. According to reminiscences of V.J. Berton, Houghton’s first elected mayor, the proposal was finally dropped because the Navy had concluded that acid in the lake’s water would rust the ships’ metal. The fleet was instead sent to the Columbia River; the Navy moored the ships at long concrete piers just east of Astoria at Tongue Point Naval Air Station until 1963.

View to the southeast from Yarrow Point in 1939. The Houghton side of the bay was sparsely settled until the 1950s.

View to the southeast from Yarrow Point in 1939. The Houghton side of the bay was sparsely settled until the 1950s.

Back on the lake, one of the most lasting consequences of the summer imbroglio was the feeling in Houghton that association with Kirkland was no longer in their best interests. In 1947 the community voted to incorporate, and Houghton remained a separate jurisdiction until 1968, when it consolidated with Kirkland. And Fred Delkin’s fears of honky-tonks was well-founded: zoning at the time was weak to non-existent. There would have been little to stop development of commercial establishments catering to the Navy operations.

The strong opposition to the Navy’s project might have surprised the early promoters of the Lake Washington Ship Canal who envisioned significant industrial development on the lake. But as residents of the growing region increasingly appreciated the exquisite beauty of the lake and its shoreline, industrial uses stopped making much sense.

Thanks to Margaret Laliberte, Eastside Heritage Center volunteer, for researching and writing this story. Margaret is a resident of north Clyde Hill , just south of Yarrow Bay. If you would like to contribute an article to Eastside Stories, contact us at info@eastsideheritagecenter.org


Learn more about the Eastside. Books available from Eastside Heritage Center include:

Lake Washington: The Eastside

Bellevue: the Post World War II Years

Our Town, Redmond

Medina

Hunts Point

Bellevue: Its First 100 Years


Our Mission To steward Eastside history by actively collecting, preserving, and interpreting documents and artifacts, and by promoting public involvement in and appreciation of this heritage through educational programming and community outreach.

Our Vision To be the leading organization that enhances community identity through the preservation and stewardship of the Eastside’s history.


Eastside Heritage Center is supported by 4 Culture

Eastside Heritage Center is supported by 4 Culture