Three Deaths Down the Shaft: A Seattle Reader Demands Elevator Reform
After yet another fatal plunge in the Seattle National Bank building, a correspondent catalogs a decade of elevator disasters and calls on the city council to require inside doors before the cages can move.
Seattle, March 27. To the Editor: To those who are familiar with the construction and the methods of operating elevators in the principal buildings of this city, the tragedy of Saturday was not a surprise. Neither were the fatal occurrences of December 1, 1906, and March 3, 1908 — the former resulting in the death of Darius Horton and the latter in that of M. N. Nelson. The list of casualties does not end here. Accidents of minor consequence have repeatedly occurred in the elevators of the city, and while not resulting fatally, prove, together with those enumerated above, the necessity of speedy action to prevent a recurrence.
Not long since a certain Seattle attorney stepped into one of the ill-constructed double-door elevators — the doors being simply openings: one by which the passenger enters from the street passage, and another through which he makes his exit to the upper floor of the building. After entering he by chance leaned backward against what he supposed was the side of the elevator, but what was in reality the other opening. The cage was moving upward rapidly and in an instant he was precipitated through the hole. Had he fallen immediately under a projecting floor he would undoubtedly have been crushed to death. Providentially, however, the cage had reached the point where he was thrown entirely out, and the fall left him hanging on part of the framework of the shaft in an extremely dangerous position, but saved from the terrible death that has befallen three of our citizens.
The usual practice is for the operative to open the door for passengers before the cage has stopped, and to start it immediately after they have entered, giving at the same time a push on the door, which sends — or is supposed to send — it shut. Often the door fails to close entirely, or, if it does, the occasions are numerous where it has rebounded and remained partly open until the next trip, thereby endangering the lives of those in close proximity to the shaft. In some cases the operative has been so neglectful of his duty as to leave the cage while passengers were waiting inside; this act of gross negligence resulted in one of the fatalities above mentioned. Another fault is that of allowing the cage to become overcrowded.
While in many cases the fault lies with the operative, the real person to be charged with the neglect is the manager or owner of the building. Good and sufficient rules should be provided, and the manager should see that they are rigidly adhered to. The chief difficulty to be overcome, however, seems to be the faulty construction of the elevators themselves. Every cage should have an inside sliding door, and this, as well as the outer or shaft door, should be closed before the cage is set in motion. This simple arrangement would undoubtedly have prevented the two fatalities of the present month. In New York the elevators in all the principal buildings are so constructed, and I am under the impression that the matter is regulated by city ordinance. If it is not, it should be. The city of Seattle should pass an ordinance for inside doors and should enforce it by heavy penalty for neglect. This is a matter in which every citizen feels an interest. Lives have been lost, and the emergency is such that there is no excuse for any but prompt action.
TRACY H. ROBERTSON.
“Every cage should have an inside sliding door... This simple arrangement would undoubtedly have prevented the two fatalities of the present month.”
A century before modern building-code fights over inspections and elevator certification, Seattle readers were already demanding that the city regulate the machinery of daily life. The letter's logic — that owners, not just operators, bear the duty of safe construction — is the same argument behind today's tenant-safety and inspection ordinances. Every ride in a modern Seattle elevator is a small inheritance from tragedies like these.
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