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This 1908 photo of Columbia City was taken looking north along 37th Avenue from Dawson Street at the foot of Hitt’s Hill. It is a primitive scene: a muddy track veers around a raw stump and an oddly listing tree. Crooked planked sidewalks wind along in front of the wooden houses. The original Columbia School building, with its distinctive bell tower, is visible on the left. The only sign of modernity is the line of utility poles marching down the hill. When this photo was taken, Columbia City, founded in 1891, had just been annexed to the City of Seattle. Some 300 people lived in the little town, which was connected to Seattle by a streetcar that ran down what is now Rainier Avenue. Fast forward to 2004: the hill has been graded, the streets are paved, and the utility poles have been moved to the west side of 37th Avenue. The old Columbia School was torn down in 1922 after a one-storey school was built behind it. The new school’s slender white smokestack is visible on the far left. On the right, a block of houses has been replaced with a large flat-roofed building. This building was built in 1979 as an expansion of the manufacturing plant that has been in operation in Columbia City for nearly 50 years. The company began in 1955 as a gasket and machine shop called Fabricators, Inc. in the old streetcar barn at Rainier and Hudson. (The streetcars had quit operating in 1937.) It became Fluorocarbon, Inc. in 1973, then changed its name to Furon around 1995. The company was bought by Saint-Gobain Performance Plastics in October, 1999. Today the plant employs 95 people and provides molded plastic and foam products to the aviation, medical, and computer industries. Only one feature remains the same in this altered landscape: the small peaked-roof house just beyond the plastics plant, visible in the 1908 photo behind the second utility pole. In the early 1900s, the house belonged to the Womach family, who owned a fuel business nearby. Even this building has changed: in 2002 it was lifted off its foundation and a lower storey was built beneath it. Teng Lauk, a Sudanese immigrant, has opened the Maar Store on the new ground floor of the building. Double Exposures: the Rainier Valley Rephotography Project The Rainier Valley Historical Society, worked with local photographer Kerry Zimmerman, in selecting historical photographs from its collection and recaptured those images as closely as possible in the Rainier Valley of today. We then researched both the changes and the remnants of the past that are revealed in the photographs, and presented the images to the public. Double Exposures is supported by King County 4Culture and the Rainier Rotary Foundation.

Abstract: Mr.Coleman discusses buying a house and growing up in Rainier Valley, working in an Alaskan cannery and leisure time activities there, work in Bremerton shipyard during WWI, a ship accident at Cake Rock, Puget Sound, his brief stay in the Army during WWII, treatment of Japanese during the war, employment of women during both World Wars, and observations on the Siwash people. NOTE: We acknowledge that the term “siwash” is a derogatory term used against the indigenous peoples of the Pacific Northwest. However, we cannot edit or ignore the use of this term as to erase it would be as bad as not acknowledging the hurtful legacy of the word.

John Sanford Taylor, Sr., was a subject in the 1903 compilation, “A Volume of Memoirs and Genealogy of Representative Citizens of The City of Seattle and County of King, Washington."The Preface proclaims: “That nation is the greatest which produces the greatest and most manly men and faithful women.” Yet, a quote from the 1913 Seattle Daily Times may be more revealing. It reads: “There is probably not a better known couple in Seattle than grandfather Taylor and his aged wife. They are ardent baseball fans, and it is said that only illness can keep them away from a league game in Seattle on any other day except Sunday, when they do not attend. They do not approve of Sunday baseball.” Born a Scotsman and raised a Canadian under servitude, John Sanford Taylor, with his wife Jeanette, arrived in Seattle in 1889, just months prior to the devastating fire of June 6. Having come from 30 years in Michigan harvesting the great stands of white pine in Saginaw Valley, followed by 10 years as sawmill operator in Minnesota, Taylor and his sons, William, David and John Jr., were familiar with what it took to be lumbermen. They already knew of boomsticks, bucking logs, cheat sticks and widow-makers. The Taylors wasted no time. Seattle real estate developer Guy Phinney had built what may have been the first sawmill on the west shore of Lake Washington in the early 1880s. The Lake Washington Mill Company was just to the south of the steamboat ferry terminal at Leschi Park, at the foot of Charles Street. In May of 1889 the Taylors purchased property in Burke’s Second Addition near the sawmill, and in June, acquired property in East Seattle, timberland just across the water on the northern end of Mercer Island. The local demand for lumber was intense after the 1889 fire. The Taylor Mill Company was incorporated on June 19, 1889, with $6,000 of capital stock issued. The Taylors ambitiously began construction of a new planing mill on the upper bluff overlooking the original Phinney mill on the lake shore. A tramway was built to transport timber up to the 32nd & Charles Street planing operation plus men and tools back and forth. The Taylors set up a logging camp at the Mercer Island property and another at Lake Sammamish, where a steam railway dumped logs right into the lake to be floated out Squak Slough into Lake Washington and then towed by scow in rafts across the lake to the mill. An 1895 Seattle Post-Intelligencer article boasts of Taylor’s Mill, “the latest improved machinery of the best makes, such as steam feed, live rolls, steam nigger and endless log haul-up, their capacity being 75,000 feet per day.” One can imagine the constant noise of the machinery, copious amounts of sawdust in the air, and the release of various substances into the lake. The Taylors had made their home up on the bluff as well, in the soon to be comfortable neighborhood of Rainier Heights. On June 7, 1891, the “simple frame Gothic edifice of the Grace Methodist Episcopal church” opened at the corner of 30th Avenue South and King Street. Church trustee John S. Taylor, Sr. donated the lumber to construct the church as well as the pulpit furniture, chairs and pews from his logging camps. The Taylor Mill Company prospered and the neighborhood was humming and buzzing right along until one day, in February 1898, The Seattle Daily Times ran the headline “A Slump in Real Estate.” The “Gigantic Landslide” of Taylor’s sawmill into the lake had been some time in the making, perhaps the three years since the completion of the Rainier Heights car line. While the planing mill still rested atop the bluff, the "extent of the whole earthly movement is about one mile long by four blocks east and west," with hundreds of acres moving downward to the lake, residences destroyed, and the sawmill engine room left afloat. In 1899, the Taylors signed a 15-year lease with Sutherland Mill Company, manufacturers of lumber, shingles and lath, to take over the Charles Street operation. The mill on the bluff was moved to the lakeshore but after a succession of various owners, in 1911, the mill at the foot of Charles Street burned to the ground. The Taylors had moved on. Charles Waters platted Rainier Beach in 1891. The Seattle & Rainier Beach Railway ended at a picnic grounds where travelers could take a boat further south to Renton. There was no road along the lake. C.K. Sturtevant and his wife Emily replatted the southern portion in 1907 as Sturtevant’s Rainier Beach Villa Tracts. The Taylors secured property from Sturtevant for the mill at the foot of Thayer Street (now 68th Street) and for their residences overlooking the lake and mill. The 1903 Polk’s Seattle City Directory first listed Rainier Beach Lumber Company, with John Sanford Taylor, president and his sons placed in various positions. The Taylors had located the new mill on a small bit of land along the shores of Lake Washington, largely on piers out into the water at the base of a heavily forested canyon, now known as Deadhorse Canyon. Mort Taylor (John, Jr.’s son) recalled that machinery from the Charles Street mill was floated south on barges to the new mill. A 1904-05 Sanborn Fire Insurance map illustrates the layout. Logs were brought from the lake into the sawmill headed toward the double circular saw. A planer mill, elevated platform, lumber slide, steam heat dry kiln, oil house, office, a couple of lumber sheds, and a brick lined pit for burning refuse were shown on the map. A pump to draw water from the lake, electric lights and a night watchman were also noted. The steam power to run the operations came by way of the creek that ran down the canyon. Its flow was dammed and a portion of the water redirected to the mill’s boilers. Another portion was used for the log flume that extended over the streetcar tracks, shooting the logs out into the lake to be stored until the time was right to be fed into the sawmill. The cutthroat trout, coho and sockeye salmon ceased to be found along the creek once the mill work began. Transportation was difficult. Mud abounded and overwhelmed. Local lumber deliveries were made by teams of horses and wagon up the steep canyon to Waters Street or by scow to wharves along the shore. It wasn’t until 1908 that the half-mile extension of Rainier Avenue between Rainier Beach and the mill was begun by the city. Loads of lumber were hauled to Renton by boxcars and flatcars on the rail as well as north through Rainier Valley. In 1912 City of Seattle filed suit to condemn property to widen and construct Rainier Avenue all the way to Renton. The mill property was included in the suit. At the time, the Taylors were buying the land from Sturtevant on contract. Sturtevant vigorously asserted the shoreland property owners’ right to ownership of not only land between high and low tide but also to the new land that would be created upon the forthcoming lowering of the lake for the ship canal. The State would eventually have the final say. The Taylor Mill survived. The Taylor wharf served various purposes. In 1904, a free boat to Hillman’s Garden of Eden, today’s Newcastle, was advertised - just take the Washington Street carline to Taylor sawmill. In 1912 Seattle Brewing & Malting Company included in their Lake Washington deliveries a Friday stop at Taylor Mill featuring their Rainier Pale Beer, “a Mild Table Beer of Unquestioned Purity." In June 1905, the Seattle Daily Times reported, “The Rainier Beach Lumber Company is working night and day to fill the orders for the men who are building small homes in southeast Seattle.” The source for logs was now the south end of Lake Washington, around today’s Skyway, Renton, and Newcastle. In April of 1906, The Seattle Star reported the mill had been “greatly handicapped by the shortage of logs.” Nationwide financial troubles caused the mill to shut down for a couple of weeks in January of 1908. Again in 1912, insufficient logs resulted in a temporary shutdown. The work was also dangerous. Dr. J.L. Hutchinson arrived in Rainier Beach in 1907 and Taylor Mill was a frequent stop as injured workers needed emergency care. In 1909, a Seattle Star headline read: “Logger DyingWith His Spine Broken” after a heavy log had rolled over him. In 1913, a man had an “arm entirely severed from his body” while working behind the planer. Interestingly, a 1915 photo of the streetcar tracks running through the mill shows a sign advertising the Renton undertaker. As a child, Mort Taylor remembered three or four furnished bunkhouses at the creek. “I got down there and I got fleas; wasn’t to go down to the bunkhouse anymore. About 100 people worked at the mill, a lot very young. 22 cents an hour for taking the lumber away from the conveyor and piling it. My grandmother ran a restaurant there for the men, three meals a day, for a week, for $8.50. They still made enough money to pay the grocery bill.” In May 1913, Rainier Valley Record ran with the news: the Seattle Port Commission’s “New $80,000 Ferry for Lake Washington Will Be Constructed in Rainier Valley.” In fact, the completed steel hull was shipped by freight cars from the Duthie shipyards in the East Waterway of the Duwamish to Taylor Mill in August of that year. There the hull was reassembled, the boilers and engines installed by shipyard men. Taylor Mill men produced and installed the woodwork for the decks and deckhouses. The LESCHI was a side- wheeled ferry powered by steam which provided service between Leschi Park, Bellevue and Medina at speeds between 14 to 15 knots. Its deck length was 169 feet. Capacity was 30 vehicles on the main deck and 275 seated passengers. The launch took place with great fanfare at Taylor Mill on December 6, 1913. Eleanor Chittenden, daughter of Hiram Chittenden, conducted the christening. In June of 1915, at 85 years of age, John S. Taylor, Sr. passed away at his home. He was survived by his wife, Jeanette, his three sons, and his daughter, Mrs. Margaret Metcalf. His funeral was held at the Grace M.E. Church in Rainier Heights with 1,000 people in attendance. He left the bulk of his estate to his wife - 66 and 2/3 shares in Taylor Mill Company valued at $3,000. The other shares were owned by his sons who had previously taken over much of the management of the incorporated mill, with William serving as vice-president, John, Jr. as secretary treasurer and David as mill foreman. Margaret and her husband, Morton Metcalf ran the TaMill branch post office (established 1909) and local confectionary. A lawsuit was filed by C. Salvino in September 1916 for failure to make payment for $664 worth of logs sold and delivered to the mill. The suit claimed Taylor Mill was insolvent and unable to pay. Taylor Mill was also indebted to another 30 individuals for cutting and preparing logs and ties, and they filed suit. Then, there was the debt to Cedar Lake Logging Company, Hewitt-Lea Lumber Company, Puget Sound Machinery Company, and others. On November 23, 1916, the Superior Court of King County announced a receiver’s sale of Taylor Mill Company. Offers were being taken for the Sturtevant’s Rainier Villa Tracts, all 45 lots including the shorelands plus the blacksmith shop, burner, drag saw and float, dry kilns and sheds, finishing sheds, fire apparatus, office buildings and furniture, oil house, pump house, planking, sawmill and machinery , store house, stable and equipment, 20 booms and 8 boom chains, lumber trucks, scows, horses, wagons, harnesses, clear logs and culled logs. The Taylors had lost the mill. The Orvis Lumber Company was the only bidder, at $8,500, contingent on an agreement to be made with Hillman Investment Company regarding a mortgage of $18,700 that had been taken out on the mill property in 1914. The first note was due in March 1917 and Orvis wanted assurance Hillman would allow an extension of time for payment, if needed. Ultimately, Seattle Mill & Logging Company, “Operating Taylor’s Mill,” reopened the mill in the spring of 1917. The new ownership switched out the machinery for an expected output at 65,000 to 75,000 feet per day at full operation. John Taylor, Jr. and William Taylor continued at the mill, as foreman and lumberman, respectively. In August of 1916, the communities around the lake had begun to experience first-hand the effects of the near completion of the long in the making Government Locks and Lake Washington ship canal. Since Hiram M. Chittenden, Seattle district engineer of the Army Corps of Engineers, had been put in charge, the project had visibly taken shape. As the sluice gates on the east end of the Montlake Cut were opened, the lake waters gradually flowed westward until the level of Lake Washington was equal to the level of Lake Union, lowering the lake by some nine feet or so. With passage by ocean-going vessels now possible between Lake Washington and Salmon Bay, new opportunities arose for the mill. The Grays Harbor Motorship Corporation began building wooden sailing ships during WWI. After the war, the company shifted its focus and in 1919 built three large barkentines (FOREST FRIEND, FOREST PRIDE, and FOREST DREAM), which featured one square-rigged foremast and three or more schooner rigged masts. In September 1923, FOREST FRIEND was towed by tug boats through Lake Washington ship canal to Seattle Mill & Logging Company. The five masted vessel was the largest ever to load on Lake Washington at the time and the first ocean-going carrier to berth at the sawmill. With a crew of 16 men, the barkentine was loaded with 1,550,000 board feet of lumber, towed back through the ship canal and off Cape Flattery, and then sailed swiftly for San Pedro, California. The floodgates had literally been opened. In February 1924, per the Seattle Daily Times, the steamer ROSALIE MAHONY was loaded with 1,000,000 feet of lumber headed for California. The article noted Seattle Mill & Logging Company then employed 200 men, operating two shifts from 7.am. until 12 midnight. Average daily capacity: 200,000 feet. In December 1924, The Marine Digest announced that the Matson steamship MAHUKONA entered Lake Washington to load 600,000 feet of lumber at Taylor Mill, bound for Hawaii. The mill suffered a fire in August of 1926 with loss estimated at less than $2,000. Value of the mill: $300,000. The last Polk’s Seattle City Directory entry noted for Seattle Mill & Logging Company was in 1928. Seaport Lumber Company purchased the mill in 1929. The steam schooner SS SKAGWAY, capable of carrying 1,500,000 board feet of lumber, was listed in the June of 1929 Vessels in Port section of the Seattle Daily Times as loading at Taylor Mill. By the late 1920s Pioneer Sand & Gravel Company had bunkers at Rainier Beach and became owners of the mill wharf. According to Seattle Municipal Archives, in 1935 the Taylor Mill site was proposed for use as a seaplane base. The February of 1938 Puget Sound Regional Archives’ images of the mill site show a desolate and decrepit scene. In October of 1938, a seven-year-old Rainier Beach boy did not return home from an errand one Saturday afternoon and his body was found the next day in the water beneath the unused gravel dock. In November, Dr. Hutchinson, president of the Rainier Beach Men’s Club, successfully led the community outcry for destruction of the wharf and removal of “the old Taylor Mill.” In September 1943, the Seattle Daily Times real estate advertisements offered 40 lots with shorelands at the Old Taylor Mill site, along with “Old buildings with lots of good lumber” and “Beautiful year round TROUT STREAM crosses many lots.” Mort Taylor remembered gravel and rocks were brought in to cover the sawdust fill that had accumulated. As for the Taylors, Mrs. J. S. Taylor, Sr., that is, Jeanette, had passed away in her home at 9963 Rainier Avenue South in December 1924. In the 1930 U.S. Census, her son, John, Jr. lived at 9957 Rainier Avenue South. At age 64, his occupation was listed as boom-man, working the floating logs. His sister Margaret lived a few houses down. In 1935, John Sanford Taylor, Jr. passed away. He was spared the drowning boy tragedy and the destruction of the mill. What do remain today, in plain view, are the Taylor family residences overlooking the north end of the mill site and the old Taylor Mill Grocery, now an upscale pizzeria. In addition, the many families whose livelihood depended on the mill share memories and family history connected to the Rainier Valley timber industry. The Taylors live on. A Tidbit from Seattle’s Timber Industry... In the early 1880s, David Denny, one of the wealthiest citizens of Seattle, operated the Western Mill at the south end of Lake Union. Western Mill was a success story even before Seattle’s Great Fire of 1889. The loss of the mills along the downtown waterfront to the quick flames provided ample opportunity for Denny’s mill to further flourish, which it did. Despite this, the nationwide financial panic of 1893 led David Denny to bankruptcy and the mill went into receivership. David Denny never recovered his financial losses and died in 1903 virtually penniless. In 1909, under new ownership the original Western Mill burned down. Another mill was built. Such is life in the timber industry. A thank you to Eleanor Boba and Teresa Anderson Article sources: The Seattle Daily Times 2/18/1913; 8/2/1926; 11/7/1938;1995 RVHS oral history: David Morton Taylor; The Seattle Star, 8/2/1912; San Juan Islander, 1/11/1908; Rainier Valley Record, 4/19/1912; The Timberman, Volume 18, p9; The Marine Digest, October 6, 1923; The Seattle Post-Intelligencer, June 7, 1891; Karl House, Maritime historian; Patrick Trotter, biologist/author. The Puget Sound Lumberman Index of Lumber Businesses & Mills, King County, Washington; The Lake Washington Story by Lucile McDonald; The Story of Bryn Mawr by Harold" Jiggs" Hoyt; Seattle-A Tale of Between Two Cities by Harold "Jiggs" Hoyt; Renton From Coal to Jets by Morda Slauson; Puget Sound Regional Archives; King County Archives; History of Seattle From The Earliest Settlement to the Present Time, Volume 3, by Clarence Bagley

The discussion will touch on issues of police brutality and accountability, the current swell of activism and street protests, everyday micro-aggressions, and casual racism told through the personal stories of the panelists. After the panel discussion, there will be a community discussion and an opportunity to speak. Speakers: Delbert Richardson, Educator, Historian Maury Diakite, Artist Patty Wells, Business Owner Tony Benton, Radio Station Manager Photo: The Capitol Hill Occupied Protest (CHOP), June 2020.

Growing up the eldest of ten children with a single mother, Ruby Chow learned the power of ordinary people helping each other out. Inspired by Madame Chiang Kai-Shek's eloquent speeches on behalf of her people, Chow made a promise that "if she was ever in a position to help others, she would." This August 19, 1987 file photo shows Ruby Chow, the matriarch of Seattle's large Chinese-American community. Family members said the restaurateur and politician died Wednesday, June 4, 2008, at her Seattle home of heart failure. She was 87. The Chow's restaurant was a gathering place for Seattle's movers and shakers. Roby Chow became a leader within the Chinese community, despite traditions that kept women in the background. She also worked to "demystify the Chinese community an culture" in the white community. Ruby Chow eventually turned her talents to public office, serving as the first Asian American on the King County Council from 1973 to 1985. Her accomplishments included establishing bilingual education in public schools.

When our Food Stories cookbook was being written we compiled not just recipes but recorded oral histories from people and these oral histories are recorded. So today, we are focusing on Dora Abney, her red velvet cake recipe, and what Juneteenth meant to her. You may be asking yourself, what is Juneteenth? Juneteenth is the celebration and commemoration of the ending of slavery in the United States. President Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation on January 1, 1863, in the middle of the Civil War. But the proclamation didn’t reach many slaves until much later. Union soldiers often delivered the news as they moved through the South.  It wasn’t until June 19, 1865, two months after the Civil War ended, that slaves in Texas learned that they were free. Formerly enslaved people  and their descendants continued to celebrate the anniversary of their freedom every year on June 19th, which came to be known as “Juneteenth.” As African Americans migrated to other parts of the country, they took the holiday with them. Juneteenth was first celebrated in Seattle in 1890. “Red foods represented the blood that was shed during slavery – red pop, red velvet cake. Watermelon. And chicken barbecue, barbecued ribs. The blood was really flowing! Dora Abney in 2003 discussing why Red food is served at Juneteenth celebrations, Rainier Valley Food Stories Cookbook Below is an excerpt of Dora Abney’s oral history. This oral history was conducted in 2003 for Rainier Valley Historical Society’s Food Stories Cookbook. Dora Abney in 2003 was the Director of Twinks Early Childhood Education Center and Preschool in Columbia City. She is originally from Marshall, Texas, where her family celebrated Juneteenth. She moved to Seattle in the early 1960s and has lived in the Rainier Valley for more than 30 years. Here she shares her memories of Juneteenth and explains the importance of the holiday for African Americans -- and others – today. Everything was fresh because in June it’s at the end of the harvest for the South. So we would have corn on the cob – everything was fresh, fresh everything – fresh chicken out of the yard, fresh chicken off the farm, barbecue ribs. What the women made was cake and pie. And the rest of it the mens did. They got a pig in the ground, cook it all night. Then they’d put on a fire and have the ribs and stuff be on bars hanging over the fire, not like what they do now, with a grill. They just hang it. It would cook, they’d roll it over. You don’t hardly see it anymore. The men would do the whole work!” What I can remember about Juneteenth is mostly my dad. I just remember how he used to say, “Juneteenth, that’s a big thing for us,” and by being born in the South, I kinda understood what he was saying. I saw what was going on, but didn’t really understand why. Some people say it’s like the Fourth of July, but this particular day, it was more exciting for my father. Now I recognize why, because that was the day they considered they got their freedom. It was his dad’s dad’s dad – it was passed down. They understood what it meant, and why that day was so meaningful. I got the idea that it was for freedom, but the history behind it was really not told, because it’s a sad situation, what had really happened. But he would always go out and shop like it was Christmas, and he would buy food, picnic stuff.  Whether it fell on a Sunday or Monday, it was a holiday to us. Everybody in the neighborhood, everybody in the city took off. The whole city was shut down. And we would picnic away. It was hot. My father, he would always sing, and he would play ball, and he was just excited. All the mens, they played ball. We packed up and we went to the baseball field. We would just celebrate. The men and the women would just dance. The kids would look, ‘cause you know, we didn’t know. As I got older it was more explained to me. So now, I’m trying to feed that little knowledge that I know to the other children – not only just black, everyone – to understand that – it’s freedom. When we came to Washington State it kind of faded out of the family, people didn’t celebrate it. They said, “What do you mean, Juneteenth? We don’t celebrate that.” So I figured I’d let it slide. Then about four years ago, when I started at the daycare center, I brought it up again. I said, “We need to celebrate Juneteenth. The kids don’t know what it’s about.” So in 2000 we had a Juneteenth celebration at Twinks, where we blocked off the street, we sold barbecue, and the kids played. It was exciting. I said “Juneteenth,” and then to me, everybody blossomed. All of a sudden everybody did know about it: “Yeah, I heard about that, what is it about?” So we started digging up information so we could put it out, so people understand what it is. During her oral history, Dora Abney gave us her recipe for red velvet cake. RED VELVET CAKE with Cream Cheese Frosting Cake: ½ cup shortening 3 Tbs. cocoa 1 ½ cups sugar 1 cup buttermilk 2 ½ cups sifted cake flour 1 tsp. salt 2 eggs 1 Tbs. vinegar 1 tsp. vanilla 1 tsp. baking soda 1 tsp. butter flavoring 1 ½ oz bottle of red color Cream shortening and sugar. Beat in eggs, vanilla, and butter flavor. Make a paste of cocoa and food coloring and add it to the first mixture. Alternately add flour and buttermilk. Mix baking soda and vinegar in a small bowl; add to batter. Bake in three 9” or 10” pans for 20-25 minutes at 350o. Let cool completely before frosting. Frosting: 6 oz. cream cheese, softened 1 tsp. vanilla 6 Tbs. butter, softened 2 cups sifted powdered sugar Blend all ingredients until smooth. Serving Suggestions for Red Velvet Cake While the cake is perfectly delicious on its own (I personally think that this is the best Red Velvet I've ever tasted) I ended up having to make mine into red velvet cake truffles by dipping them into chocolate. Add a lollipop stick and you have some delicious cake pops.

During Columbia City’s early years, Washington struggled with the prohibition issue. Temperance advocates had begun their work back in the 1850s, when Washington was still a Territory. At that time, hard-line prohibitionists were closely aligned with other “radical” causes such as the abolition of slavery and women’s suffrage. Over the next half-century, the prohibition movement waxed and waned, becoming a complicated tangle of often contradictory strands including anti-immigrant sentiment, populist revolt, religious fervor, economic analysis, and an appeal to “respectable” middle-class values. While they weren’t fanatic anti-alcohol crusaders, Columbia’s founders definitely wanted a quiet, middle-class town for their children to grow up in, and their liquor policy reflected this goal. When Columbia incorporated in 1892, state law allowed local regulation of alcohol, though not prohibition, and one of the town Council’s first acts was “an ordinance fixing the amount to be paid for license to sell malt and spirituous liquors, wine, ale, etc., and providing the manner in which the same shall be issued.” The ordinance decreed that an application for a liquor license must include a $1000 bond and $500 in cash. This sounds like a lot of money in a town where entire lots went for $300, but it was a fairly standard license fee at the time, and such fees were often paid by brewers in return for an exclusive contract with a saloon. So the $500 fee alone would not have kept Columbia “dry.” An even greater hurdle was the requirement to submit a supporting petition “signed by a majority of the freeholders of the town.” Also, the establishment couldn’t be located within one block of a school or church – not an easy condition to meet in a town three blocks long, with a school on one side and a church on the other! Finally, the Council gave itself blanket discretion: “If upon consideration,” the ordinance goes on, “the Council shall deem it in the interest of the town to grant said petition and license, said license shall be issued…” but it “may be revoked or suspended at any time by the council for good cause, and the council shall be the sole judge as to the sufficiency of the cause...” Unsurprisingly, Columbia was able to boast in the 1899 City Directory that it had “Good Schools, Pure Water, [and] No Saloons” – and the town seems to have stayed saloon-free at least until it joined Seattle in 1907. This does not mean nobody was drinking, however. Columbia’s population included many German and Irish immigrants who – according to historians, not just stereotypes – often continued their traditional beer consumption at home. Other residents may well have enjoyed (perfectly legal) alcoholic beverages at home too. We may never know for sure just how much alcohol was consumed – legally or not – in those early days. We can speculate, however. One avenue for speculation involves a petition presented to the Town Council on May 1st, 1905: “We, the undersigned Mothers and Women residing in Columbia, hereby petition your Honorable Body to regulate the conduct and operation of the billiard and pool room operated on Rainier Avenue…” These 83 women wanted the pool room closed on Sundays and at 11 pm the rest of the week. The Council, at the urging of Councilman Hastings, directed the town attorney to draft an ordinance “regulating and controlling Billiard Halls and Pool Rooms. Also all places of lounging and loafing on Sundays.” Well, the loungers and loafers of Columbia City weren’t about to take this lying down. On May 18th the Council was presented with a petition signed by 90 residents of Columbia (all male, naturally) who “respectfully petition your Honorable Body not to pass an ORDINANCE as prayed for by a certain PETITION presented … at your last Meeting.” Councilmen Peirson and Raynor spoke in favor of this petition, and the Council promptly and quietly dropped the proposed ordinance. (Close inspection of the two petitions reveals that several of the women who signed the first petition were married to men who signed the second – one can only imagine their comments at the dinner table that night.) Again, we have no evidence of anyone selling or consuming spirituous beverages at the pool hall on Rainier – we are still firmly in the realm of speculation. The 1905 City Directory doesn’t list a pool room in Columbia, though there was a “pool hall & barber” in Hillman City. The pool – barber combo seems to have been a popular one back then – Lee Gardner and Menzo LaPorte owned such an establishment in Columbia from 1908 to 1923. It certainly sounds like a rather comfortable, decidedly masculine hang-out from which wives might well have had difficulty extracting their husbands of an evening – particularly if you imagine the lure of a drink or two. When Columbia was annexed to Seattle in 1907, it became part of a “wet” urban zone in an increasingly “dry” state – but this didn’t appear to have much of an effect on Columbia City. The prohibitionists continued to fight for a statewide liquor ban, gaining ground as they became more politically savvy. In 1914 Washingtonians approved a “dry” ballot resolution that took effect on January 1st, 1916. All over the city, liquor stores and saloons desperately sold out their inventory as the clocked ticked down, and in the wee hours of January 1st the police dutifully arrested a couple of Pioneer Square bar owners to mark the start of the dry era. Four years later the 18th Amendment was ratified, and Prohibition took effect nationwide. But Seattle’s “dry” years were anything but, and at least one Rainier Valley resident played a key role in that story. Tune in next month for more about bootlegging, “blind pigs” and the Rum King!

Thursday and Sunday was spaghetti day Rainier Valley’s Italian heritage goes back a hundred years or more. Back then, the Valley was largely forests and farms, with the streetcar running down the middle. Many of the area’s farmers were immigrants, and many of those immigrants were from Italy. In fact, the neighborhood around Atlantic Street was so heavily dominated by Italians that it was called “Garlic Gulch.” These Italian immigrants brought a rich culinary tradition to the Rainier Valley that can still be enjoyed today. The Borracchini family opened a bakery in the Italian neighborhood in 1922, and their son Remo, still operates it. Remo describes the neighborhood when he was a child: “Our church was Mt. Virgin church. We had several Italian grocery stores at Atlantic Street, Italian pharmacy, Italian barbershop. The residents were mainly east and west of Rainier Avenue going all the way up to Beacon Hill. As far south as – oh, a little south of McClellan Street. We had the ballpark. We had the Vacca Brothers farm. And we had the Italian language school here, at Atlantic Street.” Vincent LaSalle also grew up in Garlic Gulch. His family owned a grocery store and meat market on Atlantic Street. “On one side was the meat market. My uncle was a good butcher and they used to cut their own meat. They had this great big walk-in icebox. They had a sawdust floor. I remember in one corner of the icebox, they had a great big fifty-gallon barrel. And in that barrel was pickled pig feet. Oh, god! You never tasted anything like that. Everything used to taste so good!” Ralph Vacca, grandson of one of the original Vacca Brothers, says that in his family “Thursday and Sunday was spaghetti day. You could count on it. It may be mustaciolli one Thursday and it may be spaghettini on a Sunday. It may be bow ties and it may be something else. But always, always Thursday and Sunday, in our household. And I would venture to say that if you talked to some others, you’ll get a smile, if you say, ‘Thursday and Sunday was spaghetti day.’ It was always good. It certainly wasn’t Franco American in a can, that’s for damned sure.” Vincent Lasalle:  “Oh, when they used to make spaghetti and meatballs at my grandma’s place. My grandma would mix the meat -- a combination of pork meat and beef all chopped up, see -- and put garlic and different kinds of flavors in it. Salt and pepper. She’d mix it all up and then [her daughters] used to take it and roll it into little balls. You’d have a stack of meatballs this big and they’d put that in the tomato sauce. Oh god! I never tasted meatballs like that.”

Rainier Valley’s Italian heritage goes more than a hundred years. Back then, the Valley was largely forests and farms, with the streetcar running down the middle. Many of the area’s farmers were immigrants, and many of those immigrants were from Italy. In fact, the neighborhood around Atlantic Street was so heavily dominated by Italians that it was called “Garlic Gulch.” The Borracchini family opened a bakery in the Italian neighborhood in 1922, and their son Remo, still operates it. Remo describes the neighborhood when he was a child: “Our church was Mount Virgin church. We had several Italian grocery stores at Atlantic Street, Italian pharmacy, Italian barbershop. The residents were mainly east and west of Rainier Avenue going all the way up to Beacon Hill. As far south as – oh, a little south of McClellan Street. We had the ballpark. We had the Vacca Brothers farm. And we had the Italian language school here, at Atlantic Street.” Our Lady of Mount Virgin Catholic Church was the spiritual heart of the Italian community, watched over by Father Lodovico Caramello from 1913 to 1949. Mr. and Mrs. Mike Eronemo, pictured at left above with their attendants, were married at Mount Virgin in 1915, no doubt by Fr. Caramello himself. The bride and her maid of honor wear traditional Italian wedding garb. The happy couple celebrated their golden wedding anniversary in 1965 with a daughter, two sons, and five grandchildren. In 1940, Interstate 90 sliced through the heart of the Italian Community in North Rainier and tunneled through the Mount Baker neighborhood to reach Lake Washington and the first floating bridge. Garlic Gulch never fully recovered. Mount Virgin still stands today in the shadow of the I-90 lid.

RVHS Founder Buzz Anderson with KUOW radio host Steve Scher discuss Columbia City history on 1.26.2001

Before the Seattle Mariners, there were the Seattle Rainiers who are playing for the pennant in this story that shows how baseball unites diverse communities. Tour the Seattle of 1955 with Huey as he and his neighborhood cheer for the Seattle Rainiers. If only Huey can find his missing ticket to the game! This nostalgic and historical picture book follows Huey through South Seattle as he retraces his steps through the charming neighborhood surrounding Sick’s Stadium to find his lost ticket--and follows him through the big game to victory. Neighbors from all different backgrounds listen to the game, announced by the beloved Leo Lassen, as Huey visits locally owned shops like the Italian bakery and the Japanese fish market. Featuring the vibrant retro illustrations by Larry Gets Lost series creator John Skewes, Ticket to the Pennant celebrates diversity and will be cherished by baseball fans young and old.

by Mikala Woodward, Excerpted from Rainier Valley Food Stories Cookbook Butchering seems to run in families. Jim Ackley, owner of Bob’s Quality Meats in Columbia City, took over the business from his father, Bob Ackley. Bob himself is a third generation meat man who owned a meat market in West Seattle for many years. Bob bought the Columbia City business in the early 1980s from the widow of Butch Nelson, whose father had opened Nelson’s Meat Market in that location in 1909. Which is all to say that the meat market roots at 4861 Rainier Ave are deep and wide, as are the stories. When Bob moved his West Seattle meat market to Columbia City in 1981, he knew he would be serving a different population: more diverse, and less affluent. Bob reached out to African American customers by advertising in newspapers like The Facts and The Seattle Medium. His supplier warned him that his trademark high-quality meat, with its higher prices, might not sell well in his new neighborhood. “My supplier said for me to come over here and sell junk. I says, ‘I won’t do that. I’ve never done that. All I sell is the best I can buy.’ He says, ‘You won’t stay in business.’ I says, ‘I don’t believe that. These people deserve to have a good place to come buy decent meat, see.’ So that’s what I did.” Bob did make some changes in his business: “I put out some Swedish potato sausage, [and people said,] ‘What’s that?’ they didn’t know what Swedish potato sausage was. ‘Okay, what do you like?’ ‘I like somethin’ that’s hot.’ So, I proceeded to develop sausages that were hot. I’d make a little a bit of sausage and I’d cook some and put it on the counter. And I kept doing that until I hear, ‘Boy, this is just right’ see. “Then they said, ‘Well, you know, that’s beef.’ But there’s folks that likes a hot pork sausage, so we developed a hot pork sausage. I had some guy send me up some of it from Texas. And I thought, ‘Boy, [if] they buy that down there, their gonna love what I’m gonna fix them.’ So I made a real good sausage. We named it ‘Texas Hot’ and it’s hotter than a pistol. That went over very, very well. We started out with a nothing sausage business to virtually tons of it, see.” Bob came to be known in the neighborhood for his willingness to go the extra mile, especially around the holidays. “[Thanksgiving is a] very busy time. I brought in some nice young turkeys, by order only. You couldn’t [just walk] in and buy a turkey. Although I always bought extra turkeys—there was two principals and three policemen and one or two college professors that had a memory worse than mine. And they would come in [on the day before Thanksgiving] and they absolutely expected that [there would be a turkey for them]. So I always made sure I had it for them. They’d come in, ‘I want to get a turkey, Bob.’ I knew what they wanted and I knew exactly what size they needed. I even had their names on them, see.” Bob even sold fool-proof turkeys with a timer put in them. “We had a lot of young people, and both man and wife are working. Some of these lovely young ladies didn’t know how to cook. So, I got the finest turkey I could get, and we had a timer put into them. Then no matter how bad a cook you are, you can’t make a mistake on this, you see?” These days Bob’s son Jim is offering another Thanksgiving convenience: a smoked turkey, which just has to be heated up in the oven for an hour, and tastes wonderful.