2023 Find of the Month Archive
Smoking bans
Early arguments about smoking appear to have at times turned into a battle of the sexes. In protest of a proposed 1911 ordinance that would prohibit smoking on streetcars, a Dr. Greenstreet complained that "[b]ecause a few idle women who have little else to do, and are selfish enough to deprive thousands of hard-working men of a few moments of innocent pleasure are aggitating [sic] this matter, is no good reason why it should become a law." He sympathized with "the poor devils who have time to smoke only while going to and from their daily toil. They have not the time to petition you and protest against this outrage about to be perpetrated by a few gadding women who should be at home long before the hour when they increase the number of straphangers."
Apparently Greenstreet's letter was published, as it drew a response from a lawyer named John Mills Day. Day pointed out that the letter
&...in addition to legitimate argument, contains language which is the essence of insult to the women and many of the better men of the City. For instance, there is an insinuation that any woman who goes upon the car when it is crowded, is "gadding" and neglecting her family. There is also an insinuation that if women went upon the street cars at any other time than during the evening rush, they would be free from the nuisance complained of. The truth of the matter is that most women who go upon the cars when they are crowded, go from necessity rather than choice, and the obnoxious use of tobacco is met with at all times of the day and night, wherever and whenever the cars run.
The streetcar ban was vetoed by Mayor Dilling over concerns about enforcement and disproportionate penalties. The following year, Charlotte Jones petitioned for a smoking ban in restaurants, "for the reason that there is no restaurant or cafeteria convenient to my place of business where it is possible for me to eat a meal without having to breathe tobacco smoke at the same time, which nauseates me and injures my health." She added her own gendered take, writing, "I trust that your body, although wholly composed of men at present, will take this step of protecting the helpless and defenceless women on this city who desire to eat in respectable restaurants, from coming into contact with the class of men who make themselves obnoxious by polluting the air in public places."
Jaywalking
A prohibition on crossing the street except at intersections in the downtown area was proposed to be added to traffic regulations in 1914. Mayor Gill vetoed the bill, not because he was opposed to the regulations, but because he thought they should be applied citywide and not just between Pine and Yesler. He believed a circumstance "where one might safely cross the streets in ninety nine per cent of its area and violate a law in one per cent" would be confusing and difficult to enforce.
Gill’s veto succeeded in killing the bill at this time, but a similar measure passed in 1917, also pertaining just to the downtown area. The day before the new law was to start being enforced, the Seattle Times warned its readers:
Watch your step! Beginning tomorrow, when Seattle’s new traffic code goes into effect, an erroneous move either in the wrong direction or at the wrong time may bring Mr. or Mrs. Seattleite before one of the city’s sedate and learned judges... For Seattle’s new traffic code is something unprecedented and unknown to Seattle walkers. In brief it places the responsibility for the safety of a pedestrian largely upon himself. It relieves automobile and vehicle drivers to a large extent from complete responsibility for all accidents and gives the pedestrian his share of the blame if he should be struck through carelessness.
It is a serious thing. Just suppose a man were hit by an automobile in the downtown business district while crossing the street diagonally – which method of crossing is prohibited in the new code. While he is lying in the hospital watching the various portions of his anatomy reunite some judge may decide that he was to blame for the accident. Then, along with the hospital, nurse, medicine and doctor bills he would have to contribute a small sum – even up to $100 – for the privilege of being hurt.
An editorial in the same edition of the newspaper defended car owners from those "who think the man who owns an automobile is a 'highway baron' who lays claim to ownership of all the roads and whose special delight in life is tooting his horn to make the crawling pedestrian jump." As for the new regulations, the writer argued, "There is no reason why the pedestrian should be granted rights that do not extend to the autoist. Hereafter he will be busy watching his own step and will not have so much time to stand in the middle of the street and grin at the auto owner who is being reprimanded for attempting to run by a signal."
Municipal lodging house
In 1911, City Council considered establishing a municipal lodging house for the temporary housing of homeless men. A report to council from the Charity Organization Society outlined how such a facility could be set up and run. They recommended an experienced superintendent be put in charge who would do more than provide a place to sleep. The report stressed that “the operation of a lodging house should be a part of a social program for the upbuilding of character and a reclamation of such individuals as may temporarily need assistance… Without these features a municipal lodging house serves only the comparatively unimportant part of housing men without lodgings.”
The Society envisioned that the lodging house superintendent would work closely with the City Employment Bureau with the goal of finding jobs for the men. It was suggested that the bureau coordinate with other cities “so that an over supply of labor in Seattle might be drawn to North Yakima or Spokane for instance if conditions warranted.”
In addition to the lodging house, the report recommended the establishment of a “farm colony” to which residents of the lodging house would be sent after three days or so if they were not able to find a job. Residents of the farm would be expected to provide manual labor while living there, and would be required to stay until they found a self-supporting job. The farm colony was seen as an “almost essential corollary” to the lodging house, as it was thought that it would serve as a deterrent to anyone thinking of coming to Seattle to take advantage of free housing. The report also recommended enforcement of vagrancy laws, as well as the return of non-residents to their families in other cities.
The lodging house idea got as far as a draft ordinance but no further. Attached to the bill are two pages of statistics showing the demographics of homeless men helped by the Society over the course of a month and a half. These details give a rare view of Seattle’s homeless population in this era, with information including age, time in town, and nationality. “Cause of application” is also noted for some, with the reasons given including unemployment, sickness, and old age. A penciled note mentions that the Life Boat Mission “furnished over 3000 free meals during past 20 days” and had an average of 180 homeless men sleeping on their floor each night.
Noise at the Silk Hat
In 1933, neighbors of Capitol Hill's Silk Hat restaurant had had enough of the noise associated with the establishment. Clerk File 140919 contains multiple missives (some notarized) complaining about automobile horns, loud talking, and intoxicated patrons. One complaint declared the "hallooing, singing, and swearing by both men and women or dancing on Olive Way" to be "more than I am able to stand."
A tenant of the nearby Harvard Crest Apartments summed up the problem while giving 30 days notice to the building manager:
My dear Sir:
With considerable regret I am asking that you consider this a thirty day notice of removal. In addition to the extra cost I am put to, the unnecessary noise emanating from the Silk Hat Hamburger across the street has almost unbalanced our mentality.
You assured me that the top floor would be quiet and should you hope to keep anyone in my apartment, you should rent it hereafter with a thorough understanding that the occupant could endure the din from without. I would suggest your finding a deaf person.
For your information, the hilarity in the most part begins after automobile parties have dined at the Silk Hat. Sirens and automobile horns seem to be their playthings and others enjoy cat-calling each other or singing Sweet Adeline. An occasional fight may add zest to some who enjoy this thing but my wife and I cannot stand it any longer.
May I suggest that you hang out the sign Apartments for the Deaf? Trusting this is timely notice, I am
Yours truly,
Orrin F. Drew
P.S. I have smelled so many hamburgers (terrible when the wind is right) that I cannot imagine caring for one during the rest of my days.
The complaints were placed on file and there is no sign City Council took action against the restaurant.
The Stoned Age
In response to a report on teenage drug use, the Seattle-King County Youth Commission embarked on a project to develop an educational pamphlet to be distributed in schools. Titled "The Stoned Age," it was meant to speak to youth on their own terms about drugs and their dangers. In September 1967, the commission reviewed an early draft of the pamphlet and found it "believable, non-moralistic, and hopefully convincing to the potential user."
Rev. Thomas Miller of the Calvary Bible Presbyterian Church also reviewed the draft and disagreed strenuously with its approach. He wrote to local elected officials to protest that the pamphlet "presents the use of drugs...in an attractive manner." Other citizens followed Miller's lead and wrote in to ask that the pamphlet be killed or significantly revised, although it seemed that many had not actually read it. A particularly colorful letter to Mayor Braman asked him to "convey to these bean-brained nitwits who are authoring this bulletin that the last thing in this world our youngsters need is the favorable viewpoint on drugs of a bunch of fuzzy-minded morally bankrupt degenerates."
Much of the criticism centered on a section called "Up, Up, and Away" which highlighted reasons people use drugs. Early readers felt the section was too positive about drug-related effects and experiences. Mayor Braman agreed that the section needed stronger rebuttal.
In a response, the Youth Commission's director emphasized that this was an early draft, but noted that "any publication dealing with the subject of youth and drugs must be scrupulously honest. Young people of today are very knowledgeable on this subject, and are able to quickly differentiate fact from myth. There is consensus that a highly moralistic, unrealistic approach will be rejected out-of-hand by our prospective readers." As for the Up, Up, and Away section, he pointed out that these "pro" arguments must be addressed, as "denial of their existence is to avoid looking at this subject in an honest, forthright manner." His letter included a list of the local health, education, and law enforcement experts who were on the project's editorial board.
The pamphlet went through further drafts that met with Mayor Braman's approval, if not that of Rev. Miller and other critics. In response to one protest letter, Braman wrote, "[F]rankly I find it difficult to see why concerned people such as yourself believe that this is an effort to promote the use of drugs. I think the one thing that we adults must accept is that young people today talk an entirely different language than we do, and merely delivering them the old style hell-and-damnation lecture rolls off their backs like water off a duck, and doesn't affect them in the slightest."
The pamphlets were finally printed in mid-1968 and were distributed along with a drug education syllabus funded by the Seattle Foundation and the Elks Club.