Folly of Youth

 

Sometimes, it’s hard to explain my choices.  Especially some of the bad ones I made when I was young.  I suppose that I can write them off as the folly of youth but I have to wonder why it was important to me to commit such folly in the first place. 

For instance, once when I was in junior high school, I chose to walk through the Battery Street Tunnel.  The same tunnel, relatively new at the time, that was constructed to serve all of the north-south highway traffic through Seattle and it offered no provision for foot traffic.  For some reason it seemed like a good thing to do. 

At the time I sat third-chair French Horn for the semi-talented All City Orchestra which was mostly composed of young nerds who were accepting of their social limitations and resulting societal roles.  Homey didn’t play that, though, and I struggled to ignore my own limitations and chafed against the norms assigned by my relationship with that Horn in F.  I wanted to be cool and be identified as such so I rationalize that some of my poor choices were the result of trying to set myself apart from reality in the eyes of my very critical peers.

Memories From The Mint

 

1968 - Seattle Municipal Archives - 191827

It’s possible that “The Corner Market” building at 1^st Ave and Pike Street has been photographed more than most Seattle landmarks and while it is a respectable place now that wasn’t always the case.  Built in 1912 it featured open storefronts along the 1^st floor perimeter while the interior featured other food specialty businesses including the Pacific Poultry Company on the 2^nd floor.  At that time it was an altogether decent place to conduct business, do your shopping and to see and be seen.  

The Corner Market went into a steep decline during the ‘60’s just as I was coming into the labor market with only 20% of the space was being utilized.  Heck, all of 1^st Ave was pretty seedy and quite sporty then and I chose the Corner Market for my first job that didn’t involve newspapers or lawnmowers.  The open storefronts along 1^st Ave had been closed in to house the “Modern Barber College” (nationally accredited), “The Taco House” (specializing in fish and chips) and “The Mint Restaurant and Dollar Room” where I first started my long climb to retirement. 

Robert Lewis Stevenson ~ Nazi Wolfpacks & the Montlake Cut

 

1934 - SMA - 9239 

On October 17, 1934 an Engineering Department photographer captured this image of the Puget Sound tug boat Equator towing the oil tanker Geo. H. Jones through the Montlake Cut and into Lake Washington.   At 429 feet in length and 59 feet wide the G.H. Jones filled The Cut on its way to the Lake Washington Shipyards for repairs and refitting.  The bustling shipyards at Houghton ensured that large oceangoing ships were not an uncommon sight in the Montlake neighborhood.  Both the Equator and the Geo. H. Jones had interesting histories and met, equally, interesting ends.  Not present that day in The Cut but part of the story was the Nazi submarine U-455 that would put one of them on the bottom of the ocean.

Jumping From the Montlake Bridge

 

1975 – SMA – 179771

Sometime around the 3^rd or 4^th grade I made one of my life’s ambitions to jump off the Montlake Bridge.  I would walk out to the middle of the span and pull myself up on the railing far enough so that I could look straight down and revel in the butterflies that rose in my stomach, the patterns on the water, the toy boats passing below, the sound of the car tires rolling over the metal deck grating.  It seemed impossibly high but doable.  I may have been dumb and reckless, but I knew that swimming would be involved and since that was something I didn’t know how to do I got signed up to take lessons at the YMCA in downtown Seattle. 

Red Letter Day

Gotta say that yesterday was a red-letter day for this local history nerd. 

I have been searching for an affordable copy of “Pig-Tail Days in Old Seattle” by Sofie Frye Bass for years.  Typically, decent 3^rd edition copies go for over $100 with 1^st edition copies in good condition between $250 and $350.  All out of my price range.  So, when I saw a copy for $40 I figured that it must be a beater.  That is the cheapest I had ever seen this book so hoping for the best but expecting the worst I ordered it,  

The description read “A nice hardcover with a missing dust jacket, a tight binding and an unmarked text.  1937 Former owner’s inscription.  From a private smoke free collection”. 

Yeah, well, we’ll see what $40 buys me.  I can only check this out of the library so many times, you know, and I really need it in my local history collection.

So, when it showed up a week before expected I was pleased and tentatively opened the package hoping that I wouldn’t be too disappointed.  To my surprise the book was in near-perfect condition sans the dust cover.  Clean with a nice tight binding.  

Opening the cover I saw that the appraiser had mistaken the author's signature for the "Former owner" as it read Sophie Frye Bass.

The Last of the Portage Bay Log Booms

Written May 14, 2022 

Sofie Sarah Frye Bass was born in 1867 and was witness to much of Seattle’s earliest days.  Since she was a granddaughter of Seattle Founder, Arthur Denny, she was well connected, knew everyone in town worth knowing and probably was all up in everybody’s business.  By recording her observations, she brought to us some of the most revealing yet brief vignettes of life in early Seattle.  Her descriptions of growing up in the places we grew up in and where we walk today sometimes tell of great change and other times paint pictures of folks doing the same things that we did at the same places. 

In her book “When Seattle Was a Village” she talks about picnicking at the log canal at The Portage.  She says…….”Logs were then run through this channel.  We liked to picnic at the canal and watch logs float into the booms at Portage Bay, and when no one was looking, we ran and played tag on the logs”.  

1895 – MOHAI – Sophie and Her Sisters

Boxers (not Briefs)

 

Wichita 1955

Boxers (not Briefs), shorts, tee shirt, bare feet and dirty hands..........Damn!..........there is just no denying your destiny