The Tragedy at Engine House No. 1
When a popular young man takes his own life in a Seattle fire station, the city is left to grapple with the mystery of a life cut short in its prime.
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 jury empaneled by Coroner Smart to inquire into the death of James McCombs met again last evening to hear testimony. Engineer W. A. Perry, of Engine Company No. 1, who had known young McCombs for twelve years, told how McCombs entered the engine house at 7:45 p. m. after visiting a friend. Shortly after, Perry heard a shot which he initially mistook for the sound of a heavy trapdoor falling in the cellar. Upon investigating, he was horrified to find McCombs lying on his back on the floor, a smoking revolver near his hand. The bullet had entered the right temple and exited the left side, embedding in the wall. McCombs, who had been a healthy, well-regarded young man and formerly an employee in the railway mail service, left behind a grieving father, Frank McCombs. The inquest determined the death was a suicide by his own hand. Young McCombs was a graduate of the local public schools and the university, and his sudden end left the community in shock.
“The bullet had entered the right temple and come out on the left side. The ball was found imbedded in the wall... showing that the suicide must have sat down on the floor and shot himself.”
Public spaces like fire stations have historically functioned as hubs of civic life in Seattle, occasionally bearing witness to the intense personal struggles of the citizens they serve. This tragic event from 1889 reflects a time when mental health crises were poorly understood and often met with quiet, somber procedural inquests, a sharp contrast to today's focus on crisis intervention and community support.
From readers
No comments yet. If you know something about this story — a correction, a family memory, a source — it belongs here.