The Stench of Progress
A romantic carriage ride is cut short by the inescapable smell of a local slaughterhouse.
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.
Being a stranger and wishing to take a ride in the country with my 'darling,' I hied me to a livery stable. I was informed by the groom that as they were planking the 'beach road' it was the best for a drive. We were on the way until about a mile from town, when a fearful stench arose. It was a slaughterhouse. Putting whip to the horses we passed as rapidly as possible. The young lady held a handkerchief to her nose and mouth for some time. She did not speak on our arrival at her parental residence, and I guess I'm lost. Would it not be well for the County Commissioners to abate such an intolerable nuisance? It certainly hurts property owners at that point and keeps the land out of the market for residences.
“Let the Commissioners go there on a warm day and see for themselves. If they can't see it they can surely smell it.”
Early civic planning in Seattle often fought against 'nuisance' industries like slaughterhouses that were situated too close to growing residential outskirts. The tension between industrial utility and quality of life remains a common civic grievance in the city.
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