The Contractor Died in the Church He Was Building
Charles R. Brown, a prosperous Seattle builder, collapsed in the gallery of the unfinished First Presbyterian Church—three minutes from work to death.
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.
Charles R. Brown, the wealthy contractor, dropped dead in the gallery of the new First Presbyterian Church, which he was building at the corner of Fourth and Spring streets, yesterday afternoon, from an attack of valvular heart disease.
Mr. Brown obtained the contract for the building last spring and commenced work in June. About six weeks ago he suffered a severe attack of pleurisy and, although at times since then he had been able to be out, he had never been well. A few days ago he began to suffer severe shooting pains in the chest and about the heart, Christmas being his worst day. Tuesday evening, however, he felt better, and yesterday, despite his wife's entreaties to remain at home, he thought he was able to go to the church and see how the work was progressing. He found that the men were putting on the finishing touches to the large edifice and that it would not take long to complete the work. With Architect C. A. Alexander he went to the gallery and sat down on one of the steps that leads down to the railing. A moment later he swooned and fell backward. Mr. Alexander sprang to his assistance, thinking that he had only fainted, and placed a coat, improvised into a pillow, under his head. Thomas Breugen, one of the carpenters, hurried after a physician, while others went for water. The stricken man, however, sank with great rapidity and was dead in less than three minutes, never having revived enough to utter a word. Dr. Eagleson and Coroner Horton viewed the remains and both decided, without one having seen the other, that death must have been the direct result of valvular heart disease. The remains were taken to Bonney Stewart's undertaking rooms and after being prepared for burial were removed to the family residence, 1009 Cedar street.
Charles R. Brown was born in Memel, a seaport city in Prussia, at the northern extremity of the German empire, thirty-seven years ago. He was of German parentage and at an early age was apprenticed to the captain of an ocean ship. He had not passed his tenth year when he reached Cape Cod on the Atlantic. From that time on until he came to Seattle, fifteen years ago, he was connected with ocean fishing boats. Naturally an ambitious, industrious man, he made good use of his experience with the world and invested his money in Seattle property. Moreover, he applied himself with energy to the business of contracting, his most notable work previous to the First Presbyterian church, now under construction, being Trinity Episcopal church, one of the most unique as well as handsome temples in the city. He was married here about ten years ago to Miss Abbie Dodge; the fruits of that union being four children, three sons—Leroy, Earle and Frederick—and one daughter, Garnet. Little Garnet is at Edison, but a telegram was sent last night for her to return home immediately.
Mr. Brown was a prominent member of St. John's Lodge, No. 9, F. & A. M., under whose auspices the services will probably be held some time tomorrow. Mrs. Brown's parents, who live at Sunnydale, were notified of their daughter's husband's death last evening and started for Seattle at once. Mr. Brown had many acquaintances in the city and was universally known as a man of fine character and principles.
“The stricken man, however, sank with great rapidity and was dead in less than three minutes, never having revived enough to utter a word.”
Brown's death was a private tragedy, but it unfolded inside a building that was reshaping Seattle's skyline. Today, construction remains one of the region's most dangerous industries, and the tension between pride in work and the cost of overwork is still familiar.
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