A Plunge Toward the Waterfront
A teamster survives a terrifying fifty-foot tumble after his wagon loses footing on the steep grades of 1889 Seattle.
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.
While Henry Hilman, one of Calahan's teamsters, was driving a top-heavy double team down the grade yesterday morning, on Union near Front Street, the vehicle upset, throwing the driver uninjured to the ground. The outfit then completely overturned, and with the horses, slid down to the bottom, a distance of fifty feet, without serious injury to the wagon or animals.
“The outfit then completely overturned, and with the horses, slid down to the bottom, a distance of fifty feet, without serious injury.”
The steep, treacherous grades of early Seattle were a constant peril for horse-drawn transport, a stark contrast to the paved, engineered hills of the modern city. The story captures the frantic, rebuilding energy of a city that had just been leveled by the Great Seattle Fire only days prior.
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