This image of Duck Bay is dated c1953
by the University of Washington Botanical Gardens. I’m thinking it’s March because the first
leaves are fleshing out on the Willows but the other deciduous trees are still
bare. There are no leaves on the ground
and the invasive Blackberry bushes are dried and bare. That one guy with the incredibly ugly short
sleeve shirt is carrying his coat so I assume that the temperature isn’t too
cool. He was probably a UW jock with no
sense of style.
2021 – Same View 70 Years Later
Welcome to “The Lagoon”.
Located near the north end of the University of Washington Arboretum it
is part of a series of connected bays and waterways that were envisioned by the
Olmsted Brothers in the early 1900’s and constructed through filling, grading
and dredging in 1939.
1939 - MOHAI -
7375
In the mid-‘50’s through the early-‘70’s the shoreline was
clear and the grass was finely coiffed by the Arboretum Maintenance Team.
The original image predates my Montlake arrival but only by
a few years. The shoreline of “The
Lagoon” near the Broadmoor North Gate looked like that in my first Montlake memories
and up into the early 1970’s. As kids,
we didn’t know or care that this space between “Duck” and “Willow Bays” had
been mostly created by garbage landfill and the deposit of spoils from dredging,
grading and compacting that had shaped the lagoons and made this garden for us.
It was just a very cool part of our territory that we used year-round and valued a great deal. It didn’t matter about the season. Ice skating (falling through the ice), rafting, rowing, paddling, swimming, fishing or just hanging out. We could and did do it all. It was our paradise. We were kings and queens of the realm.
Looking back, one of the experiences of Montlake that I love
is shown in this photo and it is the men of color who are fishing and remembering
the time I spent with them. I had come
from a place that was totally segregated and, while Montlake wasn’t the perfect
melting pot, I could still choose to be with other races and religions.
c1953 - University
of Washington Botanical Gardens - crop
Do you see that man in the lawn chair? He’s the guy that I would sit down next to
and talk about fishing, bait, seasons, etc..
I could have probably talked to him about anything, but I didn’t know
how to. Still, we would sit together for
hours and talk or not. Maybe I was being
tolerated because I was just an entitled white kid, but I really learned from him
and enjoyed his company.
It was a man like him who I trusted to teach my young niece
(Sue Ann) how to catch Night Crawlers. On
summer nights he would be out at West Montlake Park after the sprinklers had shut
off catching worms to fish with in the morning.
Those worms were fast and hard to pull out of the ground without
damaging. He showed us how to sneak up
on them. He coached us to use a drop of airplane
glue and a touch of sand on our thumb and index fingers so that we could
increase our grip while applying less pressure on the worm. He said that we should try to find two worms
mating and grab them both. He taught us that
we might have to hang onto them for five minutes or more until they contracted
and then pull a bit more of them out of the ground. Little by little until they could no longer
grip the soil. He said that landing
great bait was like landing a great fish.
It took patience, practice, time and tools, in that order.
Sue, being so small, would sometimes grab them with both of
her tiny hands and apply the lessons learned. She would be on her knees in the
wet grass hanging on for dear life while our mentor's smiling face could be
seen in the glow of the flashlight, encouraging her and beaming like a proud
Grandfather.