The Elevator Man Who Fell Through the Transom
Joseph Albright had run the elevator in the Seattle National Bank building for barely a month when a half-second's slip crushed him between cage and door — and sent his body through the glass over the ground-floor entrance.
Joseph H. Albright, aged about 55 years, who had charge of the elevator in the Seattle National Bank building at the corner of Yesler avenue and South Second street, met a horrid death yesterday afternoon at 12:26 o'clock. Through some mishap he was caught between the floor of the elevator cage and the panel of the door to the elevator well on the second floor, crushed so that his spinal column was broken to pieces and other injuries inflicted too gruesome to be more than mentioned, and then pushed down to the transom on the first floor, where his body became free and fell to the bottom of the well fifteen feet below. Closely following the accident an immense crowd gathered at the entrance to the building and wild rumors were circulated, none of which bore a semblance to the truth.
About March 1, W. B. Mayo, the old elevator boy, gave notice to Major W. S. Harlan, who has charge of the building, that he intended to return to his home in Missouri and wanted someone to take his place. In this way Joseph H. Albright, a mechanic who lived on Madison street, east of the power house, became an applicant for the position. The salary was only $30 a month, but Mr. Albright desired the position because it was indoors. Major Harlan accepted his services and instructed him to learn his duties from Mr. Mayo, but to remember that A. J. Williams was chief in charge. Mr. Mayo remained with Albright four or five days, during which time he learned the workings of the elevator, which works on a pivot; that is, the controlling lever moves from a central point either to right or left according as one desires to go up or down.
Yesterday Mr. Albright was in full charge of the elevator and was getting along fairly well, although he was not an expert at making good stops and landings. At 17 minutes past 12 George Wood went from the first to the top floor. At that time everything was all right and Mr. Albright was in good spirits. A few minutes after this J. L. H. Snyder of Benton, William J. Richmond and Thomas E. Jones of Roslyn, who were attending a meeting of a coal company on the third floor, rang the bell and Albright came up and took them down to the ground floor. As near as can be figured, just about this time Miss Grace Yancey rang the bell from the sixth floor and Albright started up in answer.
Mr. Snyder and his companions had only reached the pavement in front of the building when he heard a sound of falling glass from the elevator well. He rushed back and saw the elevator cage slowly descending to the basement without any one in it. The sliding door of the first floor landing had been thrown off its track and he could see plainly that Albright was not at his post of duty, though his hat was in the cage.
That a terrible accident had happened was evident not only to Mr. Snyder but to other people on the floors above. Miss Stowell, one of the business college teachers on the sixth story, heard a thump and a jar just below and exclaimed that some accident must have happened. On the second floor D. F. McCormanghy heard the noise and, running out of his office, saw that the lower part of the door to the elevator well had been broken out and thrown nearly across the hall.
In the meantime Engineer A. J. Williams, who was coming downstairs when the accident happened, rushed to the basement, where the elevator cage was quietly resting on the base post. He looked down into the pit below and saw the form of a man lying at full length on his back. In order to get at the body it was necessary to start the cage up, so Williams called for help and Assistant Janitor P. S. Savard answered the call. Through the efforts of the two men and Chief Janitor Kingsbury the apparently lifeless body of Albright was raised to the basement floor and then taken on the freight elevator to the second floor and finally deposited on the sofa in W. P. Lambuth's office. Drs. Crichton and Gibson were hastily summoned and, although there was still life in the bruised and battered body, the spark soon went out and Coroner Askam was summoned.
When he arrived at the building he found an immense crowd congregated around the main entrance speculating as to how the accident happened and how many were killed. All manner of wild stories were afloat, all equally incorrect. Coroner Askam elbowed his way through the crowd and, after viewing the body, had it taken to Butterworth's undertaking rooms. The sight of a dead wagon in front of a business block was another incentive for passersby to stop; by the time the body was on its way to the undertakers the crowd had assumed truly formidable proportions. The people who were fortunate enough to get into the doorway could not understand how the elevator was running up and down as if nothing had happened; it did not coincide at all with the theory of broken machinery and a fall from the sixth floor.
After the body was removed from the box Coroner Askam discovered the full extent of the injuries, which were something terrible. The dead man had been pinioned against the elevator walls until the spinal column near the small of the back was broken in several places. His clothes were torn and on the back of his head were severe but not fatal bruises covered with clotted blood.
Following the examination of the wounds the coroner returned to the building and, in company with Major Harlan, examined the basement where the body was found, and then went carefully up the elevator well, making a critical inspection of the marks visible from the second floor down. Beginning at the second floor it was seen that the lower panels of the elevator well door had been forced from their places by some terrific blow and thrown partly across the hall. On the plastering there were signs of a body having been dashed against it, and the coroner cut out a piece of cloth that was wet and bloody in one of the breaks. Where the plastering ends and the transom of the ground floor is located were found signs of the fall, and the transom is made of glass with diagonal iron work. Albright's body, striking the transom, pushed the iron work out a considerable distance and then fell to the basement.
The elevator and its machinery were all right in every part. A short time after the accident J. L. H. Snyder rode in it on a trip to the top of the building and found it working perfectly.
Major Harlan said it was a most distressing case, that he had not the slightest idea how the accident occurred. "It had to be conjectured just how he slipped or fell and was caught between the floor of the cage and the door of the elevator well," he said. "One thing is certain, he never was above the job. If he slipped and caught, he must have had his hand on the lever and the motion was such that he was drawn in and the body pushed down to the glass over the door on the ground floor, where his body became free from the elevator and fell to the bottom of the shaft. In giving the position to Mr. Albright, I believed that he could master the points of the work because he was an intelligent man and a mechanic."
Engineer Williams explained to a reporter that with such a lever, moved only the slightest degree past center while the cage was rising slowly, the elevator would continue up six or eight feet and then reverse itself and go down, and he gave a practical demonstration in the car.
Joseph H. Albright was a native of Pennsylvania, and when a young man moved to Tioga county, near York, the home of the great politician Thomas Platt. Naturally of a patriotic, brave spirit, he enlisted in the Third New York infantry when the Civil War broke out and served with honor to himself and regiment. He never became an officer, but it is not necessary to be an officer to do brave deeds. After the war was over he moved to Nebraska and lived there until four years ago, when he came to this city. He leaves a widow and one child. Thomas F. Pearl of this city was his brother-in-law. It was decided last evening to hold the funeral services this afternoon at 2 o'clock at the family residence on Madison street, near the power house, under the auspices of John F. Miller Post, G. A. R., of which the deceased was a member. The interment will be made in Lake View cemetery.
It was learned last night that the elevator was insured by Zwick, Van Wyck & Co. recently for $10,000 in the Fidelity & Casualty Company of New York. Less than a week ago the elevator and machinery were thoroughly inspected.
“If the elevator was moving up slowly and the lever was switched the slightest to the left, the cage would have continued to go up for six or eight feet and then reversed itself and gone down.”
In 1895 an elevator was a machine a handyman could be handed the keys to after four or five days of instruction, on $30 a month and no licensing regime. The Seattle National Bank building stood at Yesler and Second, a few blocks from where Pioneer Square's survivors still stand — and workplace death by machinery was simply a cost of doing business in a boom town.
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