Bellingham Bay Burned While Puget Sound Choked on Smoke
Forest fires from the British border to the Olympic Mountains sent a pall over Seattle, slowed steamers and trains, and destroyed homes, a bridge and a thirty-room mansion near Whatcom.
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.
Forest fires are raging from the British boundary south through Whatcom, Skagit, Snohomish and King counties and in the Olympic mountains and off Vancouver Island, and an inestimable amount of damage has been done to standing timber.
The wind for the past two days has been south by west and the dense smoke has been driven into the lower country and has enveloped the Sound district in a vapor more disagreeable than fog. All the steamers have been compelled to take the same precautions as if a heavy fog had settled on the water—they run slowly and every few seconds sound their whistles to avoid collisions. All trains north on the Great Northern and Lake Shore lines run on slow orders, and the headlights are kept lit the whole day.
During the whole of yesterday the city was oppressed with a hot, stifling smoke, aggravated by an unusually warm sun, and it was with difficulty that objects could be discerned a block away. It was generally supposed that the smoke came from a few comparatively small brush fires along Lake Washington in the vicinity of Madison park, but the smoke really comes from the raging fires north. The wail which went up from the half-suffocated pedestrians yesterday was pitiful to hear and the universal cry seemed to be: “When will it rain?”
The weather prophet has not yet been heard from, but the local observer last evening issued the following hopeful forecast: “Wednesday: Fair and decidedly cooler.”
Along the Bellingham Bay railroad, running from Sumas to Whatcom, the fires seem to be the fiercest. The smoke appears like an impenetrable wall, and, although the flames are not near enough to stop traffic, traveling under such circumstances is decidedly unpleasant, as it is almost as dark as night, with the heat and stifling odor of smoke added. Along the Lake Shore line south to this city the heat is almost unbearable, but no damage has as yet resulted to the railroad tracks. Trains run slowly and observe great care in approaching curves and crossing trestles or bridges. In passing through the country the whole of Skagit county appears to be on fire, through the smoke in the distance reflections of the lurid, angry flames being painfully visible. It is reported that the fires have extended to the Snoqualmie valley, but it is impossible to get any authentic information from that quarter.
It is in Whatcom county that the forest fires appear to be doing the principal damage, as the following special dispatch tells:
Whatcom, Aug. 28.—[Special.]—At 11 o’clock last evening small brush fires in the Eureka addition were fanned into a huge fire by the strong northeasterly wind. Soon the flames bore down upon the city near the end of F street. Citizens turned out and fought back the flames from the residences. The fire followed Squalicum creek bed towards the bay, and early this morning the bridge over the creek, connecting the city with the Northwest diagonal road, was destroyed. It was 300 feet long and 40 feet high, and cost $1,000. The fire department was called out at midnight, and spent the night near the woods preventing the encroachment of the flames upon residences. Eldridge’s mansion caught from a spark blown from the burning trees nearly half a mile from the house, at 10 a.m. It was soon enveloped in flames, only one hose cart being able to reach the scene. Before the water was turned on the fire was beyond control. The mansion was totally destroyed, only a small portion of the furniture being saved. Building and contents were valued at $15,000. It was the finest and largest house on the Bay, containing thirty rooms. In the Eureka addition, near the power house, twenty houses are surrounded by fire, and the firemen have been working steadily for twelve hours. Along the line of the Bellingham Bay & British Columbia to the Nooksack there is a continuous line of fire. Several small houses along the outskirts have been destroyed, but it is impossible to get full details. All communication with the country by the guide meridian and Northwest diagonal roads is cut off by the burning of connecting bridges. At 7:30 p.m. the fire is under control at Henry street. A big fire is raging beyond Sehome hill, and the city is completely enveloped. The fire department thinks it is under control. The school house and J. A. Cook’s home at Silver Beach have been destroyed. The electric power house is reported to be safe. The bridge across Little Squalicum is gone. Business is suspended. The citizens are aiding the firemen everywhere.
A gentleman who came from Whatcom yesterday said of the fire: “Section men along the railroad are watching trestles, and, when I left, several men were preparing to patrol the tracks between Bennetts and Sehome junction all night. If the wind increases tonight the fires will get pretty well into town and flying sparks will be apt to set fire to the buildings, wharves and railroad trestles. The smoke is stifling and almost unbearable.”
A little rain would stop the progress of this fire and that is what the people all over the burning districts are praying for.
The following dispatch shows the range of the fires to be greater than at first anticipated:
Port Townsend, Aug. 28.—Big forest fires in the Olympic mountains and on Vancouver island have been burning for several days, and the Straits and lower Sound are enveloped in a thick cloud of smoke which obscures the sun and hampers navigation. The atmosphere is full of ash cinders. A fresh west wind has driven the great volume of smoke southward. Extensive fires are also burning along the north side of Hood canal and in Jefferson county. Between here and Quilcene much valuable timber belonging to the timber companies has been destroyed.
“The wail which went up from the half-suffocated pedestrians yesterday was pitiful to hear and the universal cry seemed to be: 'When will it rain?'”
In 1901 Seattleites could not escape wildfire smoke; steamer whistles and train headlights were the era’s version of air-quality alerts. More than a century later, Washington summers are again measured in smoke days, and the old cry — 'When will it rain?' — has returned.
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