A Seattle Stairs Story

Seattle Stairs can create a powerful sense of time and place, sometimes even composing scenes from a remembered life. We got a reminder of this the other day from a gentleman in Albuquerque, NM, by the name of Warner Talso. He read about our book in his Sunday paper, the Albuquerque Journal (go figure), then decided to email us about his youth in Rainier Beach. He says:

"I learned about your book from an article in the Albuquerque Journal using a Seattle Times article by Tan Vinh. I had an immediate rush of nostalgia. 

"I grew up in the Lakeridge district just south of the Seattle city limits along Rainier Avenue. I lived there from 1946 until 1959, when I was drafted. The route to downtown Seattle was using Rainier Avenue. I have always been fascinated by the staircases along Rainier Avenue going to the hills above the avenue. These staircases were old. The concrete was weathered and moss covered. When I got older, I climbed some to see where they led. I have never forgotten the magic of these staircases. Part of the mystery of the staircases was why they were built and where they led. I have assumed they were WPA projects.

"I did not know Deadhorse Canyon or Taylor Creek had names, but I have been there. About 1947 I discovered Taylor Creek and decided it needed to have fish in it. I carried a bucket of Chubs and Bullheads up to a pool on the creek and put them in the water. My intention was to develop a fish population. But as kids do, with short attention spans, I lost interest and never followed up.

"The length of Rainier Avenue from Renton to Seattle was largely undeveloped except for communities like Columbia City. Portions of a parallel road were cobblestones with railroad tracks still imbedded. Rainier Beach was a drug store and a gasoline station. The stretch between Taylor Creek and Rainier Beach was undeveloped on the inland side of the highway; there were houses on the lake side. There was one gas station just south of Rainier Beach carved out of the hillside. It was constructed of stones, not large dressed stones, but rocks the size of your fist and a little larger. I wonder if it is still there. I have always been curious about its history. 

"What a trip! I will have to buy the book, even if I can no longer climb stairs. Thank you for a great memory." 

What a trip for sure! Does anyone know about that gas station constructed of little stones? For some modern-day pictures of Mr. Talso's 'hood, click on the stairway walk posting on Rainier Beach, here. 

As alluded to in the book, some of those wonderful staircases Mr. Talso remembers descending down the hill to Rainier Avenue have fallen into disuse today. The marvelous zig-zagging concrete pathway at S Kepler Street, a potential mini Lombard Street, is overgrown. The upper Norfolk Street stairway pictured below is still a useful way to navigate the neighborhood, but the last flight (bottom view) is no longer usable because the sidewalk along Rainier Avenue there is closed. Perhaps this part of Seattle's stairway legacy can be restored some day.

The upper Norfolk stairs are still in use...

...while the lower flight has been largely abandoned

Deadhorse Canyon and Rainier Beach

This jaunt along Seattle stairs starts by taking you up and down the length of Deadhorse Canyon. Taylor Creek runs the length of the canyon, which itself occupies most of Lakeridge Park at the south end of Lake Washington. This creek is one of only three in the city that flow year-round, and it's fun to visit at different times of the year to watch how it changes. For example in late winter when sightlines are clear and water levels are high, the creek runs loud and looks quite impressive; in late summer you can barely hear the creek as the greenery closes over it. Your walk through Deadhorse Canyon will take you up and down 127 timber steps. You'll eventually climb out of the canyon and onto residential streets down toward Rainier Beach, where more stairways give up marvelous south Lake Washington views before you head back uphill to your starting place.

The slideshow marked by the "www" icon presents additional pictorial content referenced in the book. See additional pictures above and below.

Yup, go straight ahead and a path into Deadhorse Canyon will soon appear...

...and there it is; wear good shoes though, because the initial way down this gravel trail is quite steep! 

 

Susanna Stodden memorial, Deadhorse CanyonSusanna Stodden and her mother, Mary Cooper, died tragically on July 11, 2006 during a hike to Pinnacle Lake in the Mountain Loop Highway area of Snohomish County. Someone, still unidentified, shot them to death on the trail. Susanna was a well-known volunteer and tireless advocate for Deadhorse Canyon, and her death sent shock waves through the Friends community here. This memorial marks one of Susanna's favorite places to be - Deadhorse Canyon. Here's more information about Susanna and her love of Deadhorse Canyon: memorial.



Pathway near the bottom of Deadhorse Canyon and Lakeridge Park

View from the top of the Cooper Street stairs, which descend to Rainier Avenue S

You'll have a very brief walk along busy Rainier Avenue before heading up and away, via the Thayer Street stairway 

And a word about the side trips mentioned in the book directions:

 

For more views of Kubota Garden, check out this website. Additional Kubota Garden websites are: Kubota Garden Foundation and Seattle Parks.    

For more info and directions to Pritchard Beach Park, try Seattle Parks or Friends of Pritchard Beach Park. Thanks to Linnea Westerlind for the photo, from her "Year of Seattle Parks" blog, which is linked on our home page.