Ballard Locks and Montlake Cut – An Engineering Marvel

By, Karen I. Treiger

(Photo: Cherry Blossoms at the Park next to the Ballard Locks).

I can feel spring in the air. The cherry blossoms have popped and the air is fragrant.  I love spring and (especially) summer in Seattle.  

I have a favorite summer bike ride (30 miles) that goes from our home in Seward Park, along Lake Washington, cuts up and over the hills, through the I-90 bike tunnel and down to the waterfront. It continues along the waterfront and through Myrtle Edwards park to the old railroad tracks. This railroad path leads to Magnolia.  Here there is a slow climb and then a steep drop down through the woods to the Ballard Locks.

At the Locks, I dismount and walk across.  This gives me the opportunity to rest for a few minutes and watch the boats, large and small, as they enter the locks.  The huge gates are closed and the water level rises or falls as the vessels prepare to enter either Puget Sound or Lake Union.

The Ballard Locks connect Puget Sound with Lake Union.  And the channel under the Montlake Bridge connects Lake Union and Lake Washington.    

(Photo: Montlake Cut)

Before the white settlers arrived, the Duwamish had ways of navigating the waterways of the area, but it was not easy passage.  The white settlers asked themselves, how can we make it easier and profitable to move vessels goods from the Sound to the Lakes?

The idea of a man-made channel was first floated by Thomas Mercer in 1854.  There were two questions: (1) how to do it? and (2) how to pay for it?

One main obstacle was that the water levels of these various bodies were different.   Lake Washington used to be 29 feet, Lake Union – 20 feet, and Puget Sound was 10-12 feet (depending on the tides). So, how to unite these bodies of water and make for smooth sailing?

Well, at the time, there were no good answers to either question.  Then, in the early 1900’s, Hiram Chittenden, for whom the Ballard Locks are named, became the director of the Federal Army Corps of Engineers in the Seattle area.  He took a stab at uniting the bodies of water.  

(Photo: Hiram Chittenden (1858-1917), HistoryLink.org).

His idea was to make two channels – one – The Fremont Cut between Salmon Bay and Lake Union and a second, the Montlake Cut between Lake Washington and Lake Union.   At the west end of Salmon Bay, locks would be built to move the traffic.  This construction,” writes David Williams on HistoryLink.Org, “lowered the water level of Lake Washington by nine feet and raised that of Salmon Bay behind the locks, changing it from a tidal inlet to a freshwater reservoir.”

Chittenden realized that they needed to pour concrete into the locks to make them truly workable.  Concrete retaining walls also had to be built in the canals and in the Montlake Cut.  These were huge projects. They had to first build dams to stop the water.  After the water stopped flowing, they excavated tons of soil and poured concrete into molds that created the walls that we see today. The final stage was to remove the dams and let the water flow return.

(Photo: Water flowing from Lake Union into Montlake Cut, August 25, 1916 MOHAI (1983.10.10325)).

Chittenden’s army of men built two locks between Puget Sound and Lake Union – one for smaller boats and one for larger boats.  The canal from the locks to Lake Union, states C. H. Hanford in his 1924 book Seattle and Environs, “is 36 feet deep, 100 feet wide at the bottom and 250 feet wide at the top.” (Hanford, 424)

Chittenden dreamed of building a second set of locks between Lake Union and Lake Washington.  This, however, was never realized due to the cost.   This resulted in Lake Washington being lowered to the level of Lake Union to allow the waters to flow and boats to pass smoothly.  This channel, taking boats from Lake Union to Lake Washington is “26 feet deep, 80 feet wide at the bottom and 200 feet wide at the top.” (Hanford, 424)

This amazing engineering feat was completed in 1916 and 1917.  On October 12, 1916, the canal between Puget Sound and Lake Union was opened and on May 8, 1917, the canal between Lake Union and Lake Washington was completed. (Photo: Water flowing from Lake Union into Montlake Cut, August 25, 1916 MOHAI (1983.10.10325)).

Chittenden’s army of men built two locks between Puget Sound and Lake Union – one for smaller boats and one for larger boats.  The canal from the locks to Lake Union, states C. H. Hanford in his 1924 book Seattle and Environs, “is 36 feet deep, 100 feet wide at the bottom and 250 feet wide at the top.” (Hanford, 424)

Chittenden dreamed of building a second set of locks between Lake Union and Lake Washington.  This, however, was never realized due to the cost.   This resulted in Lake Washington being lowered to the level of Lake Union to allow the waters to flow and boats to pass smoothly.  This channel, taking boats from Lake Union to Lake Washington is “26 feet deep, 80 feet wide at the bottom and 200 feet wide at the top.” (Hanford, 424)

This amazing engineering feat was completed in 1916 and 1917.  On October 12, 1916, the canal between Puget Sound and Lake Union was opened and on May 8, 1917, the canal between Lake Union and Lake Washington was completed. 

(Photo: People Watching Opening of Lake Washington Ship Canal, July 4, 1917, Webster & Stevens, MOHAI (1983.10.10570)).

The grand opening of the Locks and canals was held on July 4, 1917.  Citing the daily newspaper, the P-I, Williams writes that “more than half the city’s population lined the shores. The great day consisted of the SS Roosevelt locking through to Salmon Bay, stopping for series of speeches, then leading a parade of more than 200 boats through the cuts and Lake Union into Lake Washington.”

The next time I cross the Ballard Locks I will think about their construction and the opening day.  I will pause and contemplate the fact that during the years of design and construction (1900 to 1917), most of my ancestors settled in Seattle.  

Victor Staadecker arrived in 1905. Sam and Augusta Friedlander arrived in 1906 (with two children).  Finally, the Steinberg family arrived in 1910/11.  By the time the Locks opened, Paul and Jenny Singerman had been in Seattle for some time (came in 1870’s) and were well established in the Seattle business, civic, and Jewish communities. 

(Photo: Victor Staadecker)

Did any of these Seattle relatives go to watch the grand opening?  If half the city was there, surely at least one of them must have attended.  Too bad there are no diaries left behind. This surely would have merited a diary entry.  

Perhaps they discuss how much the project cost and who paid for it, around their dinner tables.   They may have been delighted with the good deal the citizens of Washington State got.  The Federal Government footed most of the bill, spending $3,345,500 ($83,397,564.92 in today’s dollars).  In contrast, Washington State put out a mere $246,187 ($6,137,018.78 in today’s dollars) and King County a piddling $142,000 ($3,539,815.94 in today’s dollars). (Hanford, 424).

To finish the bike ride, I head into Ballard traffic until I reach the Burke Gilman trail.  This trail goes along the Montlake cut through Freemont and then on to the University of Washington. From there it’s a 40-minute ride home along Lake Washington Blvd.

I call this ride the “Tour of Seattle.”  

(Photo: Karen Treiger and Sheldon (Shlomo) Goldberg on Tour of Seattle bike ride).

Karen Treiger is the author of My Soul is Filled with Joy: A Holocaust Story (2018) and author of the upcoming book, Standing on the Crack: The Legacy of Five Jewish Families from Seattle’s Gilded Age.

Her website is: Homepage – Karen Treiger – Author

Her weekly blog about the history of Seattle and stories about her ancestors can be found here: Ancestry, Genealogy, Legacy, History: Stories of Five Jewish Families in Seattle

*****

SOURCES:

Hanford, C.H.,  Seattle & Environs: 1852-1924, Pioneer Historical Publishing Co, Chicago & Seattle (1924).

Williams, David, “Lake Washington Ship Canal (Seattle), HistoryLink.org Essay 1444, Posted February 5, 2017.  

Lake Washington Ship Canal (Seattle) – HistoryLink.org

WHAT A WONDERFUL FILRE IT WAS – SEATTLE – 1889

Karen I Treiger

HAVING A WONDERFUL FIRE. WISH YOU WERE HERE!

Seattle’s “wonderful fire” arrived on the afternoon of June 6, 1889.   It started with an overturned glue pot in the basement of a building on 1^st and Madison.  It grew to inferno that ripped through Seattle’s business district. 

(Photo: Seattle Fire – 1st Ave. 30 min. after it started – UW Special Collections UW2730)

“Within minutes,” Costello writes in his History of Seattle’s First Department Store, Toklas & Singerman, “the flames spread from the carpenter shop to adjoining rooms, then to the entire Denny Block in which the fire originated. Long tongues of flames leaped high into the sky. The air soon darkened with the billowing smoke, through which a former kindly sun now shone red and angry.” (Costello Manuscript)

The flames left nothing behind but a few stray walls and lots of ash.  Seattle suffered $15 million in loss ($436 million in today’s dollars).  My earliest Seattle ancestor, Paul Singerman’s four story “fire-proof” brick mercantile store on 1^st and Columbia, the San Francisco Store, was incinerated down to the last belt buckle.  Paul emigrated to the United States from a small town in what is now NE Poland, made his way west to San Francisco and then, in 1874, north to Seattle to try his luck in this pioneer town.

(Photo: Looking West on 1st between Columbia & Cherry. UW Special Collections, UW41285)

“In little more than an hour,” Costello describes, “the entire structure [of the San Francisco Store] and its stocks were a raging inferno, and soon a mass of ruins, flaming and smoking, so completely razed that only a portion of the south walls remained standing” (Costello Manuscript).

When the Fire was finished, writes Murray Morgan in Skid Road, “every wharf, every mill from Union to Jackson Streets, was gone” (Skid Road, 119).

Singerman’s losses, just from the stock inside the San Francisco store amounted to $500,000 ($14.5 million in today’s dollars).   

(Photo: Singerman’s Store before Fire. MOHAI, William Newton Photograph Bob. 5.41)

Wonderful?  How is this wonderful?

The declaration of having a wonderful fire was not made in 1889, but with years of hindsight in 1967.  It was made by Bill Speidel in his funny and informative book, Sons of the Profits. (See Speidel, 238, 240) 

I actually understand why the fire was indeed wonderful.  

• Fresh Start
• Timing
• Sewage

FRESH START

In 1851 a few white Europeans (known as the Denny Party) settled on the shores of Puget Sound and called the place Seattle.  Most of the buildings were put up in a hurry and built with lumber produced at Yesler’s Mill, the centerpiece and main employer of the town.

Until Seattle’s Great Fire, C.H. Hanford writes in Seattle and Environs, “Seattle was a shack town.  In lieu of pavement the streets having to bear heavy traffic were planked. The Occidental Hotel, a four-story brick building; Frye’s Opera house; the Yesler-Leary three-story building and about a dozen others were the only brick buildings. The burned area was well covered with cheap wooden buildings occupied by hotels, restaurants, saloons, workshops and retail stores. Sawmills and factories and the coal bunkers were located along the waterfront south of where the fire

(Photo: Seattle 1878 – 1st Ave (Pioneer Square). UW Special Collection, UW5894)

With the “shack town” vaporized, the city’s residents could start anew.  Six hundred townspeople met the next day, June 7^th, and agreed – no more wooden buildings in the downtown corridor.  (History of Seattle, 426; Speidel, 241-42).

“Magnificent office and mercantile buildings of brick and stone took the place of low frame structures;” writes Bagley in The History of Seattle, “narrow lanes became broad business thoroughfares and all the unsightly places shone with civic attractiveness.” (History of Seattle, 419)

My great-great-great grandfather, Paul Singerman re-opened his magnificent store exactly one year after the fire, June 6, 1890.  Thousands of people flooded the store on opening day to see the beautiful building, the new invention of the elevator, the combination of gas and electric lights and the huge amount of merchandise for sale.

(Photo: Rebuilt Toklas & Singerman Store 1890 – MOHAI, William Newton Photographs)

This fresh start allowed Seattle to build a real city with sturdy buildings, wider, paved streets and some city planning and set the stage for rapid growth.  “The population,” writes C.H. Hanford, “according to the census of 1890 was 42,837, which was more than eleven times the number of inhabitants in 1880.” (Seattle and Environs, 219)  

Icing on the cake -the Fire killed 1 million rats.   

TIMING

Seattle’s Great Fire got a huge amount of press, nationally and internationally, garnering $120,000 ($3.5 million in today’s dollars) in relief from all around the globe (Speidel, 238-39).  It was just lucky that there was no other big that week.

Two weeks after Seattle’s Fire, June 22, 1889, Vancouver, Washington had a devastating fire.  It received minimal press coverage and aid money did not flow.  Seattle’s fire had taken up all the air in the room.  Further, on August 4, Spokane had a fire that got out of hand because “the only guy who knew how to run their brand new water system was away on a picnic.” (Speidel, 239).  It didn’t receive much press either. 

If Seattle’s fire had been five days earlier, on June 1 instead of June 6, there would have been little press coverage.  That’s because on May 31, 1889, a dam on the south fork of the Little Conemaugh River failed, causing a flood that killed 2,200 in Johnstown, PA, after (Wikipedia Johnstown Flood; Speidel).  That story had the printing presses busy.

“As it was,” Speidel writes, “our [Fire] was just right” (Id.).

SEWAGE

Sewage is not something discussed in middle school’s Washington State History class, but it was a huge problem in early Seattle.  Before the Fire, a person “had to climb a ladder to use the plumbing facilities in the heart of Seattle’s main business district.”  (Speidel 238).   Seattle’s Health Officer, Dr. Edward Loomis, warned the city officials about the sewage problem some six years earlier.  The problem, he explained is that in the business district, at the bottom of the steep hills, the “sewers flushed in reverse twice a day when the tide came in.”  (Id.)

        (Photo: View of Seattle from Beacon Hill 1881 MOHAI, Pic. #1983.10.6089)

  So, with the whole city destroyed, it was the perfect opportunity to fix this problem.  The solution was to build the city on higher ground.  This is why Seattle streets are 10-18 feet higher than they were before the fire.  City engineers used a combination of trestles and arches to support the elevated streets.  A series of skylights were built into the new streets so that a bit of natural light would seep into the tunnels below. 

(Photo: Karen Treiger & Sheldon Goldberg – underground tunnels, 2022)

Seattle’s Great Fire, a centerpiece of Seattle’s history, turned out to be one its greatest blessing.  Some eight years after the Fire, Speidel writes, “the sewers were behaving the way any properly raised sewers should behave.  Pioneer Square was the hub of electrified transportation from all parts of the city. Streets and sidewalks were immaculate. Window boxes of flowers abounded.  Well-dressed men and women strolled about and acknowledged one another with polite nods” (Speidel, 254).

What a wonderful fire.

*****

Karen Treiger is the author of My Soul is Filled with Joy: A Holocaust Story (2018) and author of the upcoming book, Standing on the Crack: The Legacy of Five Jewish Families from Seattle’s Gilded Age.

Her website is: Homepage – Karen Treiger – Author

Her weekly blog about the history of Seattle and stories about her ancestors can be found here: Ancestry, Genealogy, Legacy, History: Stories of Five Jewish Families in Seattle

*****

SOURCES:

Bagley, Clarence B, History of Seattle: From the Earliest Settlement to the Present Time, Volumes I, II & III.  Chicago, The S.J. Clarke Publishing Company (1916)

Costello, Gilbert, S., Manuscript History of Seattle’s First Department Store, Embracing San Francisco Store, Toklas & Singerman, MacDougall & Southwick (1924). 

Hanford, C. H., Seattle and Environs 1852-1924, Vol. III, Seattle, Pioneer Historical Publishing Co. (1924).

Johnstown Flood, Wikipedia:  Johnstown Flood – Wikipedia

Morgan, Murray, Skid Road: An Informal Portrait of Seattle. University of Washington Press – Seattle (1951, newest edition – 2018).

Speidel, William, C., Sons of the Profits or, There’s No  Business Like Grow Business! The Seattle Story, 1851-1901, Nettle Creek Publishing Company, Seattle (1967).

Seattle – City of Clocks, by Karen I. Treiger

(Photo: June 30, 1930, looking east from 4th Avenue on Pike Street. Clocks left to right: Hoeslich, Weisfield & Goldberg, Sutherland still on left up a block; Friedlander on right side, W H Larne, Ben Bridge dark clock on far right. (CCBY 2.0 License by William Creswell))

Sixteen!

That is how many clock towers could be seen on Pike Street in 1930.  One of the sixteen clocks belonged to Friedlander & Sons Jewelers on 5^th and Pike. 

These tower clocks were built by Jacob Meyer, who emigrated to Seattle from Germany in 1883 as a 15-year-old boy.   Mayer lived on Yesler Hill, in the same neighborhood as my great-great grandparents, Paul and Jenny Singerman.  I imagine they knew this young man and perhaps had him over for a holiday meal or two. 

Knowing the exact time had become increasingly important. Boats were coming and going from the docks at specific times, rail trains were likewise coming and going on a schedule. Not everyone had a personal time piece – a watch or a pocket watch. So, these clocks served a public good and advertised the stores presence on the street. A Mayer-built tower clock, with your jewelry store’s name on it, was a must.

After the Great Seattle Fire in 1889, the seven jewelry stores that survived purchased street clocks from Joseph Mayer, placing the clock outside their stores.  Not to be outdone, my great, great grandfather, Sam Friedlander, who moved his family to Seattle in 1906, bought a Mayer clock in 1908. He planted it in the cement outside the store at 925 1^st Avenue. When the store moved to 1300 2^nd Avenue in 1915, Sam brought the clock with him. It was sold and replaced with a larger Mayer clock around 1918. “Friedlander & Son” was written on the face of the clocks.

(Photo: Friedlander & Son – 2nd Ave Store – MOHAI, Austin Seward Photo Collection, 1980.6877.5.53)

The history of these tower clocks was researched by Rob Ketcherside.  In 2022 he sent me an email with this information about the Friedlander tower clocks.  He confirmed that the first clock was purchased in 1908. It was a “2 dial post clock.”   He further confirms that it was moved to 1300 2^nd Ave. in 1915.   Through his research, he traced the clock to 1941.  After that time he could no longer trace this clock.  

(Photo: Close up of the Friedlander clock at 2nd Ave – MOHAI, Austin Seward Photo Collection, 1980.6877.5.46)

The second Friedlander tower clock was a “4-dial” Mayer clock installed at the 2^nd avenue store around 1918.   Ketcherside is not sure where this 4-dial clock ended up.  The third and final Friedlander clock was an “8-dial” Mayer clock installed in 1928 at the new 5^th and Pike store.  This is one seen in the 1930 photo. 

Mayer clocks can still be seen around Seattle.  The Ben Bridge clock is the one that comes to mind for me immediately.  A June 22, 2024 Seattle Times article by Daniel Beekman points out others:   

“Ten of the old clocks grace the city’s streets today, according to Ketcherside’s research, including eight built by Mayer, who died in 1937.

There’s a clock in Columbia City that used to be in Pioneer Square, one in West Seattle that used to be in the University District and one in Greenwood, as well. There’s a remarkable clock with eight faces in South Lake Union, where the Mayer brothers once had their manufacturing operation, with a plaque that calls it ‘Joseph Mayer’s Magnificent Clock,’ and a similar clock outside the Museum of History and Industry, also in South Lake Union.

(Photo: Clock tower in Columbia City, Seattle. Taken by Author, 2024)

A century-old clock that stood outside Benton’s Jewelers on University Way Northeast before moving to a site near University Village was recently refurbished and reinstalled by Aegis Living, which spent tens of thousands of dollars on the work, according to a representative. Aegis bought the clock while redeveloping the U Village site and had a digital mechanism added.”

Some of the clocks are currently being restored and reinstalled.  One in northeast Seattle and one downtown.  A third one is being worked on and will hopefully be installed on Seattle University’s campus. 

Clocks and watches help us know the time. But I cannot help thinking how the passage of time affects us all. Each 24-hour cycle, we grow one day older. Each 365 days, a year older. We must strive to be grateful for each day, each year, and make the most of our time. As James Taylor sings in his song – The Secret O’Life – “The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time.”

*****

Karen Treiger is the author of My Soul is Filled with Joy: A Holocaust Story (2018) and author of the upcoming book, Standing on the Crack: The Legacy of Five Jewish Families from Seattle’s Gilded Age.

Her website is: Homepage – Karen Treiger – Author

Her weekly blog about the history of Seattle and stories about her ancestors can be found here: Ancestry, Genealogy, Legacy, History: Stories of Five Jewish Families in Seattle

SOURCES:

Seattle “The City of Clocks,” By Mark Mendez Mayer, Seattle Histories: Seattle “The City of Clocks” (Nov. 10, 2022).

Paul Middents, “Seattle’s First Watchmakers 1869 ‐1889: In Bringing Time to the Public in the Pacific Northwest,” Dec. 6, 2015.

Daniel Beekman, “Seattle’s Historic Street Clocks are Making a Mini Come-Back,” Seattle Times,  June 22, 2024.

Rob Ketcherside, “Time Travel to Pikes Forest of Street Clocks,” Seattle Times, May 20, 2015. https://ba-kground.com/pikes-forest-of-street-clocks/

Email correspondence between author and Rob Ketcherside, December 13, 2022.