Find of the Month

Each month the Archives highlights items of interest from its collections.

• Complaint of firemen's wives
• 1960 rapid transit plan
• "Cubic air" ordinance
• Segregated military recreation center
• "Graftitis" in the City Council
• Seattle's first stoplight
• Labor relations in early Georgetown
• Old Woodenface pitching contest
• City Light customer attitudes
• World's Fair housing crunch
• Fire engine pollution
• Seattle songs
• Ivar's salmon banner
• Fan letter
• Bowling alleys
• Frog jumping
• Bubbleator
• 1920 rapid transit plan
• Black Panthers
• Seattle Pilots baseball
• Potlatch riot
• Anti-war demonstrations
• Quarantines, swill milk, and nuisance laundries
• Astronauts visit Seattle
• Seattle Rumor Center
• Women's Protective Division
• Elvis Presley
• Swimsuit regulations
• Prohibition
• 1960s miscellany
• Pete Seeger
• The embezzling comptroller
• Cows in Ballard
• The Beatles

Complaint of firemen's wives
In 1912, Fire Chief Frank L. Stetson received the following anonymous letter:

The chief in turn wrote to Captain S.H. Horne, who was in charge of the engine company in question. Stetson explained the letter he had received, and then went on to say:

Unfortunately the file does not tell us how the situation was resolved.

1960 rapid transit plan
In 1960, the Seattle Transit System published a report exploring public transportation options as part of the Central Business District Comprehensive Plan process. The document looked at how high-speed rail might fit in with Interstate 5, then still in the planning phase.

The authors stated that rapid transit "can provide a practical means for moving people in lieu of providing all the highway lanes that are and may be desired." Pointing out that the proposed freeway route "takes for all time the most direct and the lowest cost right-of-way," they argued that rail should be designed into the freeway plans, as developing another route and right-of-way would be "ill-advised and nonsensical."

The report continues with a detailed outline of a potential rapid transit system to be established in the median of the freeway, stretching from Tacoma to Everett. Trains would operate at speeds up to 70 miles per hour, with a capacity of 40,000 passengers per hour on each track. Two downtown stations were envisioned - one at Westlake and Olive and the other at Fourth and Jackson - as well as a maintenance shop on Holgate.

The document includes detailed plans for the downtown stations, maps outlining the proposed route, and charts showing travel times and capacities, as well as analysis of legislation needed to fund and administer the system. Despite all the planning, the proposal ended up becoming another of the area's unbuilt rail projects.

"Cubic air" ordinance
In 1885, the Seattle City Council passed Ordinance 694 "for the regulation of sleeping apartments and for the preservation of good health." The law stipulated that all lodgings must contain at least 512 cubic feet of air space for each person sleeping there. The ordinance criminalized not only proprietors of buildings that did not meet the cubic air requirement, but also anyone over 14 years old who slept there.

The year after the riot, the law was superseded by Ordinance 824, which maintained the same cubic air regulations but changed the punishment to a fine of between five and fifty dollars or a jail sentence of up to fifteen days. This stayed on the books until it was repealed in 1906.

Segregated military recreation center
In 1942, the City Council passed an ordinance authorizing the construction of "a recreation center in Seattle for colored troops." This action prompted the following letter from the NAACP:

It is not clear from the record whether or not the recreation center was built.

"Graftitis" in the City Council
In late 1904, Presbyterian minister and civic reformer Mark Matthews gave a lecture in which he claimed that certain City Council members exhibited symptoms of "graftitis" (i.e., corruption). The Council discussed his accusations (sadly, before the days of taped meetings), and appointed a three-member subcommittee to visit him and ask for specifics. (Bonus fact: the resolution establishing the committee was signed by Comptroller John Riplinger, who was later prosecuted for embezzling city funds.) Matthews would not provide details at that time, but did offer to appear before the Council and give his evidence, "provided he be allowed to deliver his address uninterrupted by members of the Council."

He was invited to do so, and his speech is preserved as a Clerk File. He stated up front that he believed at least four Councilmembers were "immune" from graftitis, but then went on to enumerate 19 different "symptoms" of the disease, including:

• The Council asking for $7,500 in return for a franchise for the Snoqualmie Power Company.
• The existence of a contractors’ syndicate that controlled most city construction projects, apparently with the Council’s blessing.
• Councilmembers who "attempt, one moment, to enforce said ordinances and charter, and the next, to voluntarily, or for some other reason, represent and defend the gambler or gamblers who had violated said ordinances and charter," often intervening to prevent the revocation of licenses from saloons operating illegally.
• The fact that "parties putting up buildings are blocked and interfered with unless they use a certain kind of roofing, the manufacture of which is controlled by a firm of which a certain Councilman is a managing officer."

Matthews wrapped up his address by stating he would not discuss the matter further except before a grand jury, if one were to be called. In spite of the charges, Council President Hiram Gill was elected mayor in 1910, and apparently continued many of these corrupt practices until public outrage finally grew to a critical mass. Reverend Matthews was instrumental in a successful recall campaign that removed Gill from office in 1911.

Seattle's first stoplight
In 1924, the city installed its first traffic light on a trial basis. A memo from the Traffic Subcommittee of the Board of Public Works described the pilot project and made the case for installing lights on a permanent basis.

Almost a full page is devoted to explaining how the growing number of automobiles was beginning to create traffic tie-ups, especially given the "human weakness of 'beating the other fellow to it.'" At that time, traffic was controlled by police officers' whistles and arm gestures, and "semaphore signals." These consisted of "four semaphore arms bearing the words 'Go' and 'Stop.' The officer rotates this signal to indicate the direction traffic shall flow."

Several reasons were given for the desirability of an "Automatic Manual Control Electric Signal," including greater visibility of signals and increased freedom of movement for the officer on duty. A 30-day test of an automatic signal was done at 4th and Jackson, one of the three busiest intersections in the city. Although the signal allowed for both automatic and manual control, the officer did not manually change the signal, determining that the automatic timing worked better.

The committee was pleased with the results of the test, reporting that traffic now cleared by 5:45 pm instead of 6:15 or later, and that the number of collisions at the intersection had dropped significantly. Another plus was that an officer was free to follow any vehicle violating a traffic law to issue a ticket, as the signal would continue to operate without him. (This was compared to the semaphore system where "traffic runs wild" as soon as the officer leaves the corner.) The report stated that local businesses were so pleased with the signal's operation in the afternoon rush hour that they requested it be used in the morning as well, and thus "the morning patrolman has been supplied with a key to the signal and turns it on at 7:00."

Given these results, the committee recommended purchase of the signal at a cost of $685.

Labor relations in early Georgetown
Although the language sounds formal to modern ears, the following letter suggests significant tensions in turn-of-the-century Georgetown and hints at labor disputes spilling into the streets. Handwritten on letterhead of the Brewery Workmen's International Union of America, Local No. 261, it was dashed off mere hours after the incident described within. (Spelling errors in original.)

Old Woodenface pitching contest
From 1921 until at least 1968, the Seattle Times ran a pitching contest in conjunction with the Parks Department. At playfields all over the city, kids would line up to try their hand at throwing baseballs toward a wooden frame called "Old Woodenface" or "Old Woody." Old Woody served as an "automatic umpire" - any balls that went through the hole were considered strikes. Thousands of contestants tried their hand each year.

The Times gave the contests extensive coverage, sending a reporter and photographer not only to the finals but also to the dozens of preliminary rounds. One article predicted that "the Christy Mathewsons, the Walter Johnsons and the Grover Cleveland Alexanders of the future will all register from Seattle and will owe their start to fame to Old Woodenface." (Indeed, the 1931 winner went on to play professional baseball, and Fred Hutchinson's brother won the contest in 1923.) The contest sometimes included pitching duels between local officials, and throughout the 1930s the finals took place in Sick's Stadium before a Rainiers game.

Not everyone who wanted to participate was able to, however. A newspaper article about the 1922 contest discussed the girls who wanted to have a go at Old Woody, stating that playfield superintendent Ben Evans had been asked "hundreds of times" when the girls would have a chance. Lillian Burns, an adult playfield leader, advocated for the girls, saying that they had been "practicing just as hard as the boys."

Evans was quoted as responding, "All right, all right… But first, we must decide the great big important question, 'Who is the champion boy pitcher of Seattle?'"

City Light customer attitudes
In April 1978, City Light interviewed 808 customers to evaluate their attitudes about the agency and about energy issues. The survey concluded with an open-ended question asking what respondents would tell City Light's management if they had a chance to sit down with them.

The question elicited divergent opinions about many issues. Comments about electric rates ranged from complaints that they were too high to thanks for keeping them low. Many respondents grumbled about the agency's managers. One said that he would "give them a little bit of what's on my mind, tell them to clean up their act," while another stated that he would say, "You are fired! That's it."

The survey also reflects arguments about energy that are still occurring today. Many customers agreed with a respondent who said, "They should be spending a lot more on researching other sources of power: solar power, wind power, geothermal power," but others said things like, "It seems unrealistic to try to develop solar and wind power. Not practical. I don't want my tax money spent on that." Some wanted to raise Ross Dam and increase hydroelectric capacity; others believed environmental concerns should come first. One said, "They should have gone with nuclear power"; another said, "Absolutely not nuclear power." Other suggestions for energy sources included garbage, home-based passive energy collectors, and kelp beds.

Respondents took the opportunity to share some miscellaneous beefs. One said she wanted to tell City Light about "the neighbor that leaves lights on inside and out even when not home. They shouldn't be able to do that when others are trying to conserve." Another asked that they "put street lights back up. I don't want anyone to smack the **** out of me." And yet another wanted the agency to "quit sending stupid sized envelopes inside their envelopes."

World's Fair housing crunch
As Seattle's 1962 World's Fair approached, some landlords saw an opportunity to make money by hosting out-of-town visitors, and received permits to convert their apartment buildings to transient housing that would be charged by the day. Unfortunately, some of these property owners decided to make room for the visitors by evicting current tenants en masse, which caused a stream of letters to pour in to the City Council.

A woman who had been in her apartment for 30 years wrote, "Yes, today is Valentine [sic] Day, and today, we, at the Baroness Apartments, received a Valentine in the form of an eviction notice… I have been an ardent booster for Seattle and the Fair. I have personally invited 50 guests to the Fair… I hate to tell them to go to the New York Fair instead." Another wrote on behalf of his evicted friends, whom he called "the finest, most upstanding young women in this entire city and that takes in a lot of women, including your wives, gentlemen."

An outraged citizen stated, "If the City does not take care of its citizens first, it is lousy and, besides, to the Dickens with the fair." Another asked, "Are we displaced persons expected to become pioneers in space while the local hotels and apartment houses wax fat on their six months spoils?" Still another declared that if he was evicted, "it will take the Sheriff to remove me."

With this evidence that the permits were having unintended consequences, the Council agreed to work on legislation that would allow apartments to be used as hotels during the fair as long as they didn't evict current residents. They also passed a resolution pleading with local businesses and landlords to avoid price gouging.

Fire engine pollution
A series of letters in 1911 illustrates the concern about pollution caused by the Fire Department's new horseless fire engines. A citizen named William Perkins wrote to the Fire Chief saying that he'd seen one of the "Fire Dept Auto Combination Hose Carts" on its way up Pike Street and that there was "smoking gasoline just filling the street - worse than a locomotive crossing the Cascades."

Phillips responded by saying that he was aware of some smoking from their "motor propelled fire apparatus," but was at a loss to suggest any mechanism that would take care of the problem and prevent further citizen complaints.

Seattle songs
Over the years, many have memorialized Seattle in song. In 1961, one Ethelyn Hartwich sent the Council a ditty about keeping Seattle clean. Twenty years later, a man wrote from Mexico sending his own Seattle song, written entirely in Spanish.

A song called "I Want to See Seattle" was sent on CD and included lines such as, "I want to see the river/Where the sockeye salmon quiver." Another CD contained a 2001 salute to baseball titled "All Star Town," with verses that included:

One song that received wider distribution was titled "Seattle, My Own Home Town," which was written in 1952 and recorded by the Mercer Island Children's Choir in the early 1980s. A citizen sent Mayor Royer the sheet music along with a P-I column which claimed that if you could listen to it without tapping your feet, "then part of you is dead."

However, Seattle's official song predates all of these. In May 1909 Arthur O. Dillon petitioned the City Council to adopt "Seattle the Peerless City" as the city song. A representative verse goes as follows:

The Finance Committee recommended the song be adopted, providing Councilmember Frederick Sawyer sang it for the Council. Sawyer apparently did so, as the petition was subsequently granted.

Ivar's salmon banner
After restaurateur Ivar Haglund bought the Smith Tower for $1.8 million in 1976, he installed a 16-foot salmon windsock on the flagpole at the top of the building. Seattle's Department of Buildings promptly notified him that the flag was in violation of the city's building code and asked that it be removed. As Ivar was known for writing in verse, the Superintendent of Buildings, Alfred Petty, sent a poem in addition to the official violation letter. It read, in part:

Word about the dispute got out and the poetry flew. The P-I wrote an editorial in verse that ended:

Citizens also wrote to the city on the issue. Apart from one writer who thought it was a "disgrace" that the salmon was being flown higher than the American flag, the rest of the feedback supported Ivar and the banner. Letters stated that "small, dull thinking shouldn't knock [the flag] down," and that "Seattle needs a free spirit like Ivar's." One citizen got into the spirit and wrote a poem that began:

The city eventually granted Haglund a variance (the hearing examiner's decision concluded with four stanzas of verse) and the flag was allowed to stay. According to the P-I, Ivar said the best part about the decision was that it would stop a lot of bad poetry. After he died in 1985, the salmon banner was flown at half-mast.

Fan letter
The following letter was received by the Mayor's Office in 1971:

Note: Chamberlain appeared in Richard II at the Seattle Rep that year. It is not known whether the student (or the mayor) ever met him.

Bowling alleys
The loss of bowling alleys has recently created some gloom in Seattle, but in earlier years, the building of such facilities often caused alarm. A 1950 petition from Queen Anne residents protesting plans to build an alley in their neighborhood cited parking problems, "noise and racket," and depreciation of property values. It also claimed that "such a bowling center contributes nothing to the best interests of the community" and would be "certain to become a hang-out for juveniles." Additionally, the petition objected to the expected presence of pinball machines, concessions, "and other devices designed to extract money from the public."

One citizen had a more specific complaint. In a 1945 letter, he described how he "was subject to the demands of the bowling alley to rent their shoes… The result was Athlete's Foot." After describing his attempts to fight off the disease and keep it from spreading to his family, he went on, "You may wonder why I am writing such a detailed report on this… I am wondering if you can't in some way…stop this awful practice of renting out shoes." He said the alley manager claimed they sterilized the shoes three times a week.

The city's Chief Sanitation Inspector believed the writer's complaint to be "well founded" and suggested that bowling alleys, skating rinks, and costume shops be required to disinfect footwear between each rental. An ordinance to this effect was passed exactly a month after the citizen wrote his letter.

Frog jumping
In 1975, Seattle and Snohomish jointly sponsored a frog in the Calaveras County (Calif.) frog jumping contest. In a letter to the contest manager, Mayor Uhlman spun a tall tale about how frog jumping originated in Washington when lumberjacks would use high-jumping frogs attached to ropes to bring down tall trees. He claimed that Snohomish was currently required to alert the Canadian government before their town's frog-jumping contest "to assure the safe return of any who might inadvertently cross the international boundary."

The mayor further described the superiority of Washington's amphibians, asserting that frog jockeys "unfamiliar with the particular characteristics of our local breed have been known to suffer bruised or broken ribs from standing too close at the time of the jump." He finished the letter with a request: "If ABC's Wide World of Sports covers the event again this year, our frog is not to be requested to grant any interview to Howard Cosell. Our local Humane Society has very strict rules about such things."

Radio station KWYZ financed the frog's entry, and station employee Randy Thaut served as travel escort and frog jockey. A naming contest sponsored by the station resulted in the chosen frog being christened Lord Sno-Sea the 123rd. In a letter to Thaut, a mayoral assistant signed off with, "If you don't win, forget about coming back."

A mayoral assistant worked with the Woodland Park Zoo amphibian curator to prepare a box in which the frog would be flown to California. The curator also suggested a diet of crickets and earthworms "to insure maintenance of the frog's stamina and physical agility."

The file does not include the contest results, and a query to the current Calaveras County frog-jumping contest staff elicited no historical results. If Lord Sno-Sea the 123rd proved the superiority of Washington frogs over those from California, the proof is unfortunately lost to history.

Bubbleator
A file in Mayor Uhlman's records details a campaign to save the Bubbleator at Seattle Center. The Bubbleator was a distinctive glass elevator originally installed as part of the Coliseum's "World of Tomorrow" exhibit for the 1962 World's Fair. It was moved to the Food Circus (now the Center House) after the fair, but in 1973 was scheduled to be removed as part of a major renovation of the building.

Hundreds of citizens wrote letters and signed petitions in protest. One letter began, "For Heaven's sake what is this we hear about doing away with our 'one and only' much loved Bubbleator!" One writer described it as "one of those things which creates the unique charm of the Center." Another asked, "How many other cities have bubbleators? Let's keep Seattle on the map!" An Everett resident contended that "if San Francisco had it they would have post cards of it and really play it up." A postcard from a child read, "I'm only 5 years old and have only ridden in the bubbleator 2 times - please don't have it removed - I want to ride it some more." And a Seattle man directed his ire at the mayor, writing, "I've shaked [sic] your hand a lot of times and NOW I want to shake the rest of you!"

The outcry caused city leaders to rethink their plans. A rather unenthusiastic memo from the Seattle Center's director outlined possible options for changing the architectural plans. A mayoral staffer attached his own analysis, suggesting that a change order should be put in, as the Bubbleator "is unique in the city and… preserves some sense of continuity between the present facility and the remodeling." The mayor attached a note saying, "Agree! Implement!"

The Bubbleator's reprieve was only temporary. In the 1980s it was removed for good, and was sold to a man who used it as a greenhouse in his yard. The operator's chair was donated to MOHAI in 2005.

1920 rapid transit plan
A 1920 report lays out a plan for rapid transit in Seattle that includes subways, elevated trains, and "motor busses." Written jointly by the city engineer, superintendent of public utilities, and superintendent of railways, the document proposes a rapid transit system "suited to present needs, but planned for future enlargement."

The authors envisioned a subway running beneath Third Avenue from Virginia to Yesler, coming to the surface near the railroad stations - essentially the route followed by the present-day tunnel. Trains going up to Capitol Hill would follow a line up Pine Street that would be alternately underground and elevated, ending at 15th Avenue East. An elevated line would serve Pigeon Point in West Seattle, while surface rapid transit would connect with the existing streetcar service at stations in Fremont, lower Queen Anne, and the University District.

Additionally, the report proposed installing escalators between First and Fourth Avenues on selected streets. The authors believed that "the construction of such escalators in the business district of Seattle will tend very greatly to develop this district and to do away with the present handicap occasioned by the steep grades between our main north and south streets. We have no doubt that once in use they will find themselves immediately in favor."

The report estimates the savings of this system over the current streetcar system to be $1.2 million per year. An integral part of the plan was the removal of streetcar tracks downtown, thereby creating "an enormous benefit …The savings in time for trucks, delivery wagons and automobiles has a very real cash value." As for the expected expenditure to build the system, the authors claim that "the interest and depreciation charge on such cost will probably not exceed one-half of the total saving in the cost of maintenance and operation," but do not give an actual cost estimate.

Black Panthers
In early 1970, Mayor Uhlman turned down a federal request for cooperation in a raid on the local Black Panther headquarters (which ended up not taking place). He expressed concern over "Gestapo-type tactics" and argued that violent raids as had recently occurred in other cities only served to radicalize more people. His actions made national headlines, and he received letters from citizens from across the country.

Responding to one critic, the mayor wrote, "The Panthers, as any other group, will be held responsible for the legality of all of their activities in Seattle, but will not be harassed or treated prejudicially by the City… However, there exists already enough racial fear and mistrust on both sides without creating more through unwarranted investigations and other activities."

In 1971, a clerk for attorney Johnnie Cochran wrote to Uhlman to ask him to testify for the defense in a case against thirteen Panthers in Los Angeles. Uhlman declined to do so, saying that the incident "has strained relations between local and federal law enforcement agencies" and that he would prefer not to aggravate those tensions.

Seattle Pilots baseball
Seattle's first experience with Major League Baseball was brief and tumultuous. The Seattle Pilots played the 1969 season in Sick's Stadium, a minor league park that was built in 1938. The stadium needed extensive renovations, and construction continued right up until Opening Day. However, the American League still declared the stadium to be "inadequate" less than two months later. The facility's problems and the owners' shaky finances led to the purchase of the team by Bud Selig, who moved them to Wisconsin. The players went to spring training as the Seattle Pilots but were the Milwaukee Brewers by the time the season started - a move so sudden that their uniforms weren't ready for their first game.

In the mid-1960s, while the city was working to attract a team, the mayor received correspondence from citizens eager to make Seattle a "Big League Baseball city." One writer castigated Mayor Braman for not working harder to get a franchise, saying, "I cannot understand your apparent apathetic attitude in not AGGRESSIVELY getting behind this movement." Another argued that the economic benefits were too great to ignore, asking, "How can we afford NOT to have a major league stadium and team?" However, another writer expressed skepticism about what would happen after the initial enthusiasm died down, fearing that Seattle "could well have a white elephant on its hands."

When it became apparent that Seattle was in danger of losing the team, citizens began writing in with solutions. One suggested that the franchise issue stock, believing that local residents would buy in ("100,000 loyal baseball fans like myself at $35.00 equals 3½ million dollars"). Another recommended a special election be held to authorize King County to buy the team. Eddie Carlson, who was involved with the World's Fair, tried to put together a community ownership plan. None of these ideas worked out, but the city's lawsuit against the American League eventually resulted in the new Mariners franchise.

Potlatch riot
Clerk File 52924 illustrates the aftermath of an anti-Socialist riot during the Potlatch Festival in 1913. Spurred by an incendiary article in the Seattle Daily Times, a large group of soldiers, sailors, and civilians roamed the downtown area on a Friday night ransacking any property they identified as "red" (along with a mission that was the victim of mistaken identity).

Mayor Cotterill assumed emergency control over the police department and issued orders banning street meetings and closing saloons until the following Monday to protect against "a renewal of disturbance of public order." He also accused the Times of willfully inciting the riot through its "exaggerated, false, and perverted publications," and directed the police to stop all distribution of the paper for two days unless the proofs were first approved by the mayor.

Police did indeed attempt to stop an edition of the Times from being distributed, but publisher Alden Blethen went to court and got the order overturned. A huge headline in the next issue of the newspaper trumpeted, "Cotterill attempts to suppress Times; Tries to shift blame for last night's riots." The paper also recapped the events of the previous night in detail, clearly in sympathy with the actions of the mob. Toward the end of the article, the writer declared that "the sailors were entirely orderly last night with the exception of their attack on the reds."

Anti-war demonstrations
A day after the shootings at Kent State University in 1970, more than 7,000 demonstrators blocked Interstate 5 in a march from the UW campus, and protests continued in the city for days. These incidents prompted numerous letters to Mayor Uhlman, the majority of them critical of both the "rabble rousers" and the mayor himself.

A petition signed by almost 250 citizens stated, "We the undersigned feel that the tragedy at Kent State University was the FULL RESPONSIBILITY OF THE DEMONSTRATORS." One letter writer wrote with outrage about "allowing our Flag to be worn by these dirty people down our streets." Another wanted to know "just how long MOB RULE is going to override law and order… If you didn't stop the cars from driving on [the] Interstate during a demonstration, there would probably be only one such demonstration."

The mayor's decision to fly the flag at half mast to memorialize the Kent State students generated some critical letters as well. One writer suggested that the flag be lowered for all deaths resulting from traffic accidents, falls, and so on, saying that "all of these occasions for sorrow are fully as valid as the deaths of the students, and probably more so." The man also stated his belief that "much of the disturbance is instigated by behind-the-scenes maneuvering of enemies of our nation."

Not all the correspondence criticized the mayor's actions. One letter stated that "Seattle is fortunate to have had you as mayor during the past weeks of anti-war demonstrations." Seventeen employees of Bank & Office Interiors also signed a letter stating their appreciation for "the restraint, as well as the calmness, the Seattle Police Department has shown" during the protests.

Quarantines, swill milk, and nuisance laundries
The city's early General Files cover several topics relating to public health:

• In 1894, a hotel owner filed a claim for damages after his hotel was quarantined for 19 days during an epidemic. He listed the loss of pillows, blankets, and mattresses that were destroyed or taken to the "Pest House," and also claimed expenses for rent, licenses, and lost lodging income. The Claims Committee recommended he be reimbursed for the destroyed bedding but not for the last three items, as "all persons engaged in this business assume the risk of epidemics."


• Over 100 Seattleites signed a petition in 1891 asking that the sale of "swill milk" - milk from cows that were fed discarded malt from breweries - be prohibited in the city. The petitioners claimed that "it is a known fact that the milk produced from such feed is very injurious and conducive to diseases." Health Officer G.H. Sparling appended a note to the petition stating that swill milk was "the cause of a great number of deaths from cholera."


• An 1890 letter to the mayor and common council complained of a "disagreeable nuisance" on Yesler Avenue. A sanitary officer subsequently inspected the property and discovered that the issue was "slops flowing from a Chinese Wash House." He explained that the laundry, along with several others in the city, had no sewerage connections, causing its "slops and filth" to run out over the ground and under the sidewalk. He stated that all such laundries constituted "a Public Nuisance and a menace to the health of the neighbors," but offered no solution to their runoff problem.

Astronauts visit Seattle
A file in Mayor Uhlman's records documents the 1970 visit to Seattle of the three Apollo 12 astronauts, Charles Conrad, Alan Bean, and Richard Gordon. The Apollo 12 mission was the United States' second manned lunar landing, and occurred during a time of high national excitement about the space program. Gordon was from Seattle, which gave the visit additional meaning for local residents.

The visit brought out the musical talents of local residents, showing how the space program had captured the nation's imagination. A Seattle man rewrote the lyrics of "I've Been Working on the Railroad" with "new space age lyrics" that began:

      We've been riding on a moon ship, all the live long day
      We've been flying on a moon ship, along the Milky Way

The man suggested the song could be used as part of the ceremonies, and that perhaps the "moon men" would like copies of the lyrics.

Additionally, a Bothell woman had written and self-published sheet music for a "march song" entitled "You're the Pride of the Human Race." The lyrics read, in part: "We are proud of ev'ry one for a job well done/That has made our space dream come true." She sent a copy to the mayor and apparently was able to present one to the astronauts in person as well.

Seattle Rumor Center
Files in the archives describe the establishment and activities of the Seattle Rumor Center. Modeled on similar programs in cities like Chicago, the center provided "a central source of accurate and reliable information on subjects of concern to the citizens of Seattle and affecting the public peace, safety and welfare."

The Rumor Center opened on an experimental basis in 1968; by 1969, it was open from 10:00 am to midnight seven days a week. In addition to fielding calls and serving as a rumor clearinghouse (one "minor incident" at the Seafair Torchlight Parade led to over 200 calls to the center), the staff also produced a biweekly rumor report, documenting everything from fights at Meany Middle School to buzz about an upcoming "rumble" between motorcycle gangs.

In a 1969 letter to the mayor, the Rumor Central General Secretary sounded off on the kind of damage his center worked to prevent: "Recently, a group of drivers started what they considered a humorous rumor. It spread throughout a portion of the City until a fire station phoned asking us for verification. In this case, we were able to trace the course of the rumor to its source and to explain what harm this 'fun' had caused."

The center's annual report for 1971 described how local events affected the types of rumors that were circulating. School desegregation plans prompted a rumor that there would be mandatory busing of 4-year-olds, and the Boeing layoff led to a number of rumors related to the potential cancellation of unemployment benefits.

The work of the Rumor Center did not go unnoticed. The mayor praised them for their "fine work," and the Superintendent of Schools wrote, "We believe that on a number of occasions serious trouble has been avoided because of the splendid service rendered the community by the Center."

Women's Protective Division
In the early part of the 20th century, the Police Department had a Women's Protective Division that specifically looked after the welfare of women and children. Annual reports of the Division give a flavor of the kinds of issues officers dealt with.

The dedication of Division officers to their work is apparent in the reports. One 1916 case where a man was accused of taking advantage of a minor girl was successfully prosecuted based on shredded letters found in the girl's room. It took "hours of painstaking effort" to piece the missives together, but the reconstructed evidence led the man to plead guilty.

As part of their protective services, officers investigated "soft drink parlors," skating rinks ("frequented, to a large extent, by sailors and young girls"), and other places of amusement. The 1920 report contended that "moving picture shows" and their "false ethics" were increasing juvenile delinquency, and suggested banning the exhibition of any films that depicted a crime being committed.

Elvis Presley
Several Clerk Files from 1956 contain letters from teenagers (all girls) protesting the city's refusal to allow Elvis Presley the use of the Civic Auditorium, apparently over concern about potential unruly behavior by youth attending the concert.

The arguments took several tacks, with some following the fairness angle. One girl wrote, "What did we teen-agers ever do to deserve this? Nothing!…Why have we teen-agers of Seattle been refused when teen-agers all over the U.S. have not?"

Many contended that Seattle's youth were being condemned based on what those in other cities had done. An Elvis Fan Club member asked, "Are we the kids in the other towns? No we are not… Then why are you afraid we'll start something?" Another girl attempted to reassure the Council that "so many kids want a chance to see him, that they wouldn't let a riot start."

Others defended the music itself. A girl from Renton argued, "The reason some people don't like him is usually because he has a different way of singing, and people don't like anything that's different." A Seattle teen wrote, "Elvis has a good 'beat' to his music. It's different. It isn't this drawn out mushy slow music." Another argued, "Think of when the Charleston was the craze and the teen-agers were crazy over Sinatra!"

However, one girl conveyed a different message than she intended when she wrote, "I want Elvis Presley to come to Seattle because we have never had a Rock and Roll riot in Seattle before, and I think it would really be fun."

Swimsuit regulations
A 1934 folder in a Parks Department collection highlights the changing standards for proper beach attire. Seattle was apparently behind other parts of the country in terms of what styles of suits were allowed on city beaches. A Bon Marche vice president complained to the Park Board that "practically all the bathing suits in demand from a fashion standpoint would be barred." The sporting goods manager from the University Book Store contended that men wanted to wear trunks (rather than one-piece suits with tops), and since trunks were not permitted on city beaches, they would "avoid the beaches and risk their lives swimming in places that are dangerous or at least unprotected."

He also argued that scantier swimwear was good "from a hygienic standpoint…because we have so little sunshine." In a similar vein, the Bon Marche vice president claimed that "no one will deny that acquiring a good coat of tan…has much to do with one's well being."

These and other petitions persuaded the Park Board to look at their policy. A representative from Olympia Knitting Mills appeared at a May 1934 board meeting, along with several models, to show the new styles of suits. The board decided to allow men to wear topless trunks, while women were allowed for the first time to wear white suits (as long as they were wool). Two-piece suits were still barred, however; the P-I reported that the board decided "a strip of bare anatomy between trunks and tops…isn't quite decent." The paper quoted board president Samuel Martin as saying, "Ah, ha! Now we're modern at last!"

Prohibition
The archives holds almost twenty leather-bound volumes detailing search warrants and court cases related to the illegal possession of alcohol during Prohibition. Seized liquor varied from amounts as small as half a pint to thousands of bottles. Officers also confiscated stills, mash, funnels, and jugs.

1960s miscellany
Three items of note discovered in one day in the 1969 Mayor's Office records, proving that the sixties were alive and well in Seattle:

• A 45-rpm record of Johnny Nash singing "Love and Peace," sent by the record company as a way to help prevent race riots. The accompanying letter expressed concern about the "long, hot summers" and the "onslaught of hate and prejudice which leads to riots and breakdown of law and order." Copies of the record were apparently sent to mayors, governors, and members of Congress, with the suggestion that the song be made the theme of the summer.


• A newspaper photo of Mayor Braman with both legs in casts after a skiing accident. The clipping was sent to the mayor by an elderly citizen, accompanied by a Polaroid photo of the citizen in an upper-body cast. The man did not send a letter with the photos, but did type a list of his injuries on the back of the Polaroid. The mayor wrote a letter to the man wishing him a speedy recovery.


• Promotional materials from the Seattle Visitors Bureau displaying their groovy official logo: a colorful Yellow Submarine-style design incorporating the slogan "The Swinging Gateway." (London wasn't too worried about the competition.)

Pete Seeger
A 1965 file in Mayor Dorm Braman's records contains dozens of letters from citizens protesting a scheduled Opera House performance by Pete Seeger. Many of the writers asked the mayor to enforce Ordinance 91981, which prohibited "the rental or use of any city-owned buildings…to any subversive organization, or member thereof."

Letters cited Seeger as "an identified Communist" and noted that "he edits the magazine 'Sing Out' where Communist Party songs appear." One writer described his performances as "a large dosage of Red propaganda interspersed with bad music," while another warned that "communism uses the arts - including music perhaps most of all - to destroy us." Several writers were concerned that he would take profits from his Seattle concert and donate them to the Communist Party.

Many of the correspondents had apparently written first to the Superintendent of Buildings, Fred McCoy. McCoy replied with a form letter stating that he had reviewed the program and determined it was not subversive. One citizen took exception to his judgment, asking, "Have you been trained in the methods of Communist psychological warfare and brainwashing?"

A response letter from the mayor explains that the city did not have legal justification for canceling the performance, as no government agency would definitively label Seeger as being "dedicated to the destruction of our form of government by force." But Braman was proud that as a result of the city not making a public fuss, "the attendance at his show was very small compared to others."

The embezzling comptroller
The archives holds a set of audits and reports relating to the alleged embezzlement of city funds around the turn of the last century. A 1907 audit discovered that over $68,000 in city funds were missing. Also missing was the former Comptroller, John Riplinger, who served two terms from 1902 to 1906.

The city attempted to locate Riplinger using Pinkerton detectives. When he was eventually found in Honduras, the City Treasurer worked with the State Department to negotiate an extradition treaty. Within a month of the treaty's enactment, however, Riplinger "voluntarily" returned to Seattle, claiming the timing was coincidental. (Meanwhile, a "Lee Christmas" had offered to kidnap the fugitive for trial.)

Riplinger was charged with nine counts of larceny by embezzlement. The prosecutor decided to try the strongest charge first - a case where the state was able to prove both the delivery and the cashing of a check by Riplinger, and where a City Council member witnessed him carrying the cash out of the bank.

Riplinger's defense was based on the claim that the cashed check, while initially written to the city, was later offered as a personal loan. Riplinger could not account for why he had not come forth with this explanation two years before when he was first accused.

The jury deliberated for only 30 minutes before finding him not guilty. The prosecutor, stunned by the verdict, said he still planned to try the other eight counts, and threatened to prosecute Riplinger for perjury. However, he later dropped the charges, admitting "there would be little hope of securing a conviction." Riplinger, in the free and clear, immediately made plans to return to his banana business in Honduras.

Cows in Ballard
At the turn of the last century, the City of Ballard was starting to become more urbanized but still retained many aspects of rural life. In 1905, a law was passed restricting where cattle could graze, prompting citizens to write to the mayor and city council to comment on the new limitations. Dueling petitions found in the Ballard City Clerk's files show some of the conflict that resulted from the town's development.

One petition pleaded that the city government "give we people owning cows a chance to live, as well as those that do not own such." The signers claimed that by "pushing the boundary of herd law back so far, many will be obliged to sell their cows which in many cases is over half of their living."

However, another petition claimed that the law didn't go far enough and that the herding limits should be extended further. The petitioners state, "We consider it an imposition to have 25 or 30 cows herded right in our door yard and each cow with a bell on. They also herd on the Bay View school grounds where the children have to play, and annoy and make the Teachers nervous. Also those herd boys use all kinds of profane and obscene language in the presence of women who come near them."

The Beatles
A 1964 file in Mayor Dorm Braman's records contains a number of letters from teenage girls in a high state of excitement about the Beatles' impending Seattle concert. They ask the mayor for favors ranging from front row seats ("I promise you, I will not scream") to advice on what the band members might like as gifts (the mayor claimed ignorance about their preferences) to a declaration of an official Seattle Beatles Day ("I have talked to several of my friends about this and they think it's the greatest idea since cornflakes"). One girl asked that she and three of her friends be allowed to officially greet the Beatles when they arrived, while another was hoping to escort the band up to the top of the Space Needle after hours.

The lone letter from a citizen over the age of 18 was from a Mrs. Pinkham, who wanted to be sure taxpayer money wasn't paying for expenses associated with the visit, which she claimed "upset the whole city."