The Day Seattle Stood Still: A Sunday of Sobriety and Silence
In November 1876, the city’s saloons closed their doors for a rare day of peace, while the newspaper editor noted with relief that there were no fights to report.
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.
The general demeanor of the city during yesterday was highly creditable to the intelligence and cultivation of our people. The saloons were all closed, while the cautious old jokers who will have their 'cold tea' took care to lay in their supplies of 'Noble' on the previous evening. We saw no fights.
This unusual tranquility followed a day of intense political maneuvering. Earlier that week, the city had been boiling over with 'war of words,' particularly near the corner of the Colman block between Fred Dyer and Gardner Kellogg. Yet, as the sun set on this particular Sunday, the usual clamor was absent. The editor noted that while the saloons were shut, the 'cautious old jokers' had wisely secured their liquor beforehand, ensuring a quiet day for the rest of the populace.
This brief glimpse into 1876 Seattle reveals a city grappling with its identity—oscillating between raucous political debates and enforced sobriety. The mention of 'cold tea' as a substitute for alcohol highlights the temperance sentiments that would eventually lead to Prohibition, while the relief at 'no fights' underscores the volatile nature of frontier justice and nightlife in the era.
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