Betrayed by the Railroad: The Wellington Disaster Survivors
After the catastrophic avalanche that killed nearly 100, laborers hired for rescue work are abandoned without food or pay, forced to trek 74 miles to Everett.
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 world has been shocked by the Wellington disaster, which blotted out the lives of a hundred human beings in the Cascade Mountains. While writers have told the story of the passengers and the heroism of rescue workers, there is a sordid side: a story of greed and mismanagement shown by the Great Northern Railroad toward the armies of workmen hired to clear the line. Scores of men arriving in Everett this week, including W. E. Bennett, tell of being recruited in Spokane under the false pretense of rescue work, only to be forced into dangerous labor under inhumane conditions. They were housed in filthy boxcars without heat or proper food, and worked near explosives with reckless disregard for their lives. When they quit in disgust, the company refused to pay them or provide transportation, forcing them to walk 74 miles to Everett without money or supplies. Many were self-respecting American workmen who refused charity, highlighting the company’s utter failure to treat their employees with basic human decency.
“They were just plain, even-day American workingmen who were willing to give an honest day's work for an honest day's pay and wholesome grub and decent treatment in return.”
The 1910 Wellington avalanche remains the deadliest in American history, but the labor exploitation described here adds a dark layer of corporate accountability. This incident echoes contemporary debates about labor protections, corporate emergency response, and the precariousness of temporary workers in the Pacific Northwest’s hazardous landscapes.
From readers
No comments yet. If you know something about this story — a correction, a family memory, a source — it belongs here.