The Ghost of Sunnydale
A man arrives looking for work, strips off his clothes, and vanishes into the brush—leaving behind only a purse, a poll tax receipt, and a trail of mystery.
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.
There is a mystery in the neighborhood of Sunnydale, about seven miles below Seattle, which several days of quiet investigation have failed to clear up. It seems that morning over two weeks ago, at an early hour, several residents were amazed to see a tall, dark man, in his underwear only, running wildly down the road from the little village toward the woods south of the town. While the spectators, among them W. H. Hodds, the mail carrier, were gazing open-mouthed at the strange spectacle, the man was lost to sight in the distance. Search was made for him without any success. The affair caused much talk, but nothing was discovered as to the man's identity until Monday last, when two boys, the sons of Robert Alington, a farmer living near the Miller place near Sunnydale, found by the roadside in the brush a coat and a pair of trousers. In the pockets of the trousers were found a small leather purse in which were three small, much-folded pieces of paper. The only other thing in the purse beside the paper was a nickel. On examination the papers were found to be a road poll tax receipt showing that W. A. Marshall had paid $5 in King county as a road poll tax for 1893. The second bit of paper proved to be a receipt from the Seattle Transfer Company, dated May 1893, showing that W. A. Marshall had delivered to the transfer company for storage, at the rate of 50 cents per month, one saw, one sack of coffee, a hammer, two axes and a pail. The third and most important document was a form recommending W. Marshall to Knauff & Carlyle, of Sunnydale, for a job at land clearing. This recommendation was signed by Rae & Crawford, employment agents in this city. It is nearly certain that the man who ran through Sunnydale a fortnight ago in a garb but little more complete than nature’s, was W. A. Marshall of Seattle. It is supposed that the unfortunate man suddenly became insane and running madly through the woods and becoming exhausted, sank down and died from starvation and exposure.
“The man who ran through Sunnydale a fortnight ago in a garb but little more complete than nature’s.”
This haunting disappearance in what was then the rural outskirts of Seattle speaks to the desperation and isolation often experienced by laborers during the severe economic depression of the 1890s. While Sunnydale has long since been swallowed by the metropolitan sprawl, the tragic image of a man discarded by society wandering into the brush echoes the struggles of those who remain invisible within our modern landscape.
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