The New Frontier on the Shores of Lake Washington
While the city worried over mysterious prowlers, settlers were carving out orchards and gardens from the old-growth forests near Lake Washington, marveling at the land's hidden potential.
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.
Yesterday a Dispatch reporter visited the neighborhood on Lake Washington, about six miles from the city, where a number of persons have opened farms on fir land. There is the farm of Mr. John Wilson, which raises a better quality of fruits and vegetables than the river valley lands. None of his potatoes are affected with the rot. His apples are very fine flavored, being much superior to the same varieties when raised on bottom or swamp lands. Some small apple trees in his orchard bore as many as eight or ten bushels each this year. Mr. Wilson has a fine variety of flowers in blossom in his garden. He is just completing a fine new house. Mr. Houser, a young man formerly of North Carolina, is opening a farm adjoining. Mr. E. R. Barnes has a fine farm adjoining Mr. Wilson's; the land is of the same class, and returns good crops, but Mr. Barnes has not yet erected permanent buildings. Mr. Frank McClellan has a farm just beyond, which he has opened amidst the giant fir and cedar timber. These farms are all located on the sloping shore of Lake Washington, and afford a fine view of Mount Rainier and the Cascade range. A more beautiful view of the sublime in nature cannot be found. Three valuable veins of coal run through Mr. Wilson's farm, and but a small amount of capital is required to develop them.
“A more beautiful view of the sublime in nature cannot be found.”
In 1877, this stretch of Lake Washington was a rugged frontier of 'giant fir and cedar timber.' Today, that same topography is the heart of Seattle's most sought-after and expensive real estate, transitioning from orchards to an urban landscape that still struggles to balance development with the 'sublime' natural beauty noted by the reporter.
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