The Most Glamorous Night in 1892 Seattle
When the city's high society gathered at Ranke's Hall to watch a 'cake-walk' for the benefit of the African Methodist Episcopal church.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
Seattle's first cake-walk, held last night in Ranke's hall, was a great success. It was for the benefit of the African Methodist Episcopal church, but, as the pastor, Rev. Leonard S. Blakeney, explained, the entertainment was not gotten up by the church members themselves, but by the young colored people of the city who wished to aid the parish. Consequently the evening concluded with dancing—an amusement which the stricter Methodists do not approve.
The fun began at about 9 o'clock. By that time the gallery was well filled, and the seats on the floor too. Among the spectators were many of the leading society people of the city. The contestants, eight couples in all, stood up in line, led by a drum major, 'Smoke' Bailey, whose trousers with their five-inch checks were at once the wonder and admiration of all beholders. After marching around the hall several times, the judges—B. Oxendine, Thomas Johnson, Ed Hankins, J. A. Coleman, and Robert Spencer—selected Mr. Hood and Miss Williams as the most graceful and stylish steppers. Miss Williams was dressed in the height of fashion—a gray bodice décolleté and sleeveless, gray skirt with train, heavily trimmed with rich lace. Mr. Hood had gray trousers, more carefully creased than any others in the hall, a buff waistcoat, and black Prince Albert coat. When the prize was awarded, everybody in the gallery stood up and shouted. To add the last touch to the delight of those present, Mr. Hood bent his haughty head, circled Miss Williams' waist, and suddenly a smack sounded like a trumpet call above the din of cheers.
“To add the last touch to the delight of those present—including himself—Mr. Hood bent his haughty head... and suddenly a smack sounded like a trumpet call above the din of cheers.”
While the reporting style of 1892 frequently patronized Black social events, this story captures a vibrant moment of community pride and public celebration that is rarely found in the era's legalistic or crime-heavy coverage of Seattle's marginalized populations. It serves as a reminder that the social heart of Seattle has always thrived in spaces—like the AME church—that organized for their own flourishing.
From readers
No comments yet. If you know something about this story — a correction, a family memory, a source — it belongs here.