The Dock That Swallowed Five: A Narrow Escape on Madison Street
In a sudden collapse that sent debris crashing into the Sound, five people survived by inches when a poorly constructed lunchroom and menagerie annex gave way beneath them.
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.
Without any warning, the roof at the foot of Madison street, on which was Tom Dutton's menagerie and Collins' lunch rooms, gave way this forenoon at about 10 o'clock and went crashing into the Sound, carrying five persons with it.
Besides Collins and his partner, there were two men eating in the lunch room at the time the accident happened. The lunch room was a small place, about 7 1/2 feet square, and was loosely constructed affair. It fell, collapsed, and the four men got on top of the debris, only experiencing a wetting.
Charles Lynn, who was in Dutton's place, had a narrow escape from death. His part in falling turned turtle, and he was caught beneath watering pots.
This 1900 accident highlights the precarious nature of Seattle’s early waterfront infrastructure, where wooden structures built hastily on unstable fills were prone to catastrophic failure. It serves as an early reminder of the city's ongoing battle with its own geography—a theme that continues today as modern developers and engineers grapple with seismic risks and rising sea levels in low-lying districts like Pioneer Square.
From readers
No comments yet. If you know something about this story — a correction, a family memory, a source — it belongs here.