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The Millionaire and the Deputy: A Seattle Process Serving Scandal

A Tacoman millionaire tries to dodge a divorce summons, leading to a frantic game of cat-and-mouse in downtown 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.

A scene in the sensational drama that commenced in Paris about three months ago, in which Clinton P. Ferry, the Tacoma millionaire, his dashing wife, and a Parisian duke were the principal characters, was enacted in Seattle yesterday. It will be remembered that Mrs. Ferry brought suit for a divorce from her husband in the San Francisco courts about a month ago. Since that time her attorneys have been attempting to get personal service in the case upon Mr. Ferry, but he was too foxy to be caught and the sheriff of Pierce county carried the papers in his pocket until they were nearly worn out without getting a chance to serve them. Mr. Ferry was in Seattle yesterday visiting his brother, the ex-coroner, and by a strange coincidence John N. Young, of San Francisco, attorney for Mrs. Ferry, was also in the city. When Mr. Young heard that Mr. Ferry was here, he at once turned over a copy of the summons and complaint to Deputy Sheriff David McKinlay for service. Deputy McKinlay hunted all over town for the millionaire defendant and finally found him at Attorney-General Metcalfe's office. He walked up to him and tendered him the papers. 'I won't take them,' said Mr. Ferry, waiving away the proffered papers and speaking excitedly. 'I must see my attorney and consult with him before I accept service.' Mr. Ferry was standing with his high white tile in his hand, and Deputy McKinlay, seeing that he could not prevail upon the millionaire to accept the papers, by a dextrous movement laid the bundle on top of the hat and turned away with the remark, 'That's good enough personal service.' 'I won't touch the papers. I haven't been served,' said Mr. Ferry, as he shook the papers from his hat and let them fall on the floor. General Metcalfe informed him, however, that he had been legally served, so he finally picked up the papers and shoved them into his pocket.

“I won't touch the papers. I haven't been served.”

— Printed in The Seattle Post-Intelligencer (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1889
Then · 1889137 years apartNow · 2026

Divorce and scandal among the wealthy were as much a staple of 1889 newspaper gossip as they are today. While 'service of process' is a dry legal term, this story highlights the lengths to which the elite have always gone to avoid accountability—even when a sheriff's deputy is literally putting the law on their hat.

The original page

The Seattle Post-Intelligencer (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1889-08-18. Library of Congress, Chronicling America.

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About this story

From
The Seattle Post-Intelligencer (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, AUG 18, 1889, Page 8
Rights
Public domain
Place
47.60323, -122.33028 · placed automatically
The paper in the Library of Congress catalog ↗