Washington Territory History Project

What's the depth there at the marina?

Pictured here is The Fidelity Building at 11th and Broadway in downtown Tacoma. It doesn't exist today, sadly. It was razed and replaced by the new Woolworth building in 1949. The Woolworth building isn't there anymore either.

Many folks identify Seattle's Alaska Building as "first" in at least a couple of categories. The two that come to mind are first steel-framed building, and at 203 feet, the first "skyscraper", which also made it the tallest building in the state from the time of its completion in 1904 until bested by Spokane's National Bank Building in 1910. But the Alaska Building actually wasn't first in either of the aforementioned categories if we include Tacoma highrises that no longer exist.

The Fidelity building was originally a 6-story building, completed in 1890, and yes, it was steel-framed. As far as I know, the first such construction in the state. Fidelity Trust was one of the largest financial institutions in the state.

The building's interesting two-tone appearance, and the fact that it sure looks like it identifies as a 12-story building in this picture, came as a result of a major expansion that was begun in 1907 or 1908, and certainly completed by 1909. At that time, it reined as the tallest building in Tacoma until the nearby National Realty building was topped out in 1912 at 233 feet, some 14 feet taller than Spokane's pride and joy, and making it the tallest building in the state until the Smith Tower in Seattle was completed just two years later.

This building also holds a special place in Creviston family lore.

One hundred years ago this past June 6th, the driver of Reo Roadster parked two and a half blocks away and got out, forgetting to set the brake. The empty roadster went flying down the hill along the sidewalk adjacent to 11th, eventually plowing into a crowd of people at the intersection with Broadway. Two of the people were run over and dragged by the car across the street several dozen feet until the roadster crashed in a heap into the northeast corner of the Fidelity Building. A 39-year-old woman named Lena Bradley was killed instantly.

Also killed was the former Chief Justice of the Washington State Supreme Court, Judge Merritt J. Gordon. Since retiring from the high bench, he more recently had served as chief counsel for the Great Northern Railway before scandal forced him out and into private practice. After his first wife died in 1922, he married my great-grandmother's younger sister Patricia "Minnie" (Creviston) Bergeson and adopted her two children, Virginia and Conrad, or as I knew him, "Conny".

Anyhow, that's the story. Maybe someday I'll tell another tale about how, when I was 7 1/2 years old, that I quite unintentionally found out I could run a whole lot faster than my oldest brother Sean. Conny was impressed, I think.

"No Burnt Cork Offering" was a late 19th and early 20th century term used to describe a legitimate minstrel troupe with genuine black actors and musicians to separate it from blackface performers and troupes. Burnt cork was apparently what was used to darken the faces of white people in the latter type of performers, which also reveals a general distaste for the notion of white people disrespectfully lampooning black people, even back in those early days.

The attached picture of the minstrel troupe was taken on July 3, 1900. I found it on the Smithsonian Institute's website, and it depicts "George and Hart's Up-To-Date Georgia Minstrels" in front of their custom rail car at an unknown location somewhere in Missouri.

"George" was a man named J. Edward George, and "Hart" was Gardner Elijah Hart. Both were Minnesota men, George from Winnebago and Hart from Pipestone. The troupe itself went by different names over the years and claimed lineage dating back 30 years which, if verifiable, would have predated any involvement by either George or Hart. This lengthy existence is probably an embellishment.

In any case, Mr. George is standing third from the left in the white coat and shirt and boater hat. The women on either side are his wife Catherine "Kitty" (Creviston) and his mother, Flora Ann (McKee) George. The man to the right in a dark suit and his left hand in his pocket is Gardner Hart. I don't know the names of the rest of the folks.

Kitty Creviston was my great-grandmother's older sister. Imagine my surprise when I found her photo in the Smithsonian!

This troupe was fairly popular around the western half of the United States in the 1890s and early 1900s, getting good press everywhere they performed.

A story about the 1856 hanging of Chief Chenoweth endures. It tells us that, with a rope around his neck and facing his imminent death, he took a moment to look upon his "guard" Amos Underwood and, paraphrasing, told him he was a trustworthy man and then gave him his daughter Taswatha for marriage.

Amos and Taswatha did indeed marry, and they had children together. From then on she was called Ellen Underwood. But this tale about the giving of Taswatha to Amos Underwood, by her father Chief Chenoweth, is problematic for several reasons.

For starters, Taswatha already had a daughter by the time this marriage took place. Or, at the very least, she was pregnant. Her daughter Isabelle was born on the 21st of May in 1857 according to various records, none of which were recorded at the time, mind you, so it is possible that her birthdate, although specific, could have been inaccurate. In any case, throughout her lifetime she listed her biological father as William King Lear, reportedly a soldier in the 9th Infantry. The story is sparse from here, but apparently Lear disappeared and didn't play much, if any role in his daughter's life, and she was raised by Amos Underwood as his own.

Lear, at least at the time, was not a soldier but a civilian being paid by the Army for his services as a packer. He was paid $90 a month, a tidy sum in those days, and he is recorded as being there at the military outpost in the gorge, Fort Cascades, for a succession of several months up until August of 1856. From there he disappears from the record until 1860 when he can be found in military records, still attached to the 9th at Fort Bellingham in today's Whatcom County.

Now let's do the math. If William King Lear and Taswatha got together in August of 1856, and 9 months later a baby was born, this is entirely consistent with the listed birthdate of Isabelle, 9 months later, in May of 1857. So, that Lear was her father makes perfect sense, and it is known that Isabelle was then raised by Amos Underwood and Taswatha, and when she came of age, she married Amos' brother Edward Underwood, which means she was simultaneously Amos' stepdaughter and sister-in-law. Pioneer times were plenty confusing!

But here's the problem. Chief Chenoweth was hanged on March 31, 1856, nearly 14 months before Isabelle was apparently born. If he "gave" his daughter Taswatha to Amos right before he was executed, how can it also be the case that William King Lear impregnated that same daughter just 5 months later?

To complicate matters further, Amos was a part of the Oregon Volunteers, and they were documented to have been in the Walla Walla country in late 1855, engaged in a pitched battle with those Indians in December when Chief PeoPeoMoxMox was killed in captivity which, it is said, this was an event Amos was a witness to.

After a hard winter near Wallula Gap, the Volunteers then went to the Snake River canyon in hunt of more hostiles before finally disbanding in early June of 1856. Again, Chief Chenoweth was hanged in late March of 1856, making it really hard to explain how he could have told Amos Underwood anything at all, assuming Amos was still with the Oregon Volunteers. Both accounts cannot be simultaneously true.

Pioneer tales are often full of embellishments, my own family history being a prime, glaring example. And often they are riddled with complete fabrications in order to gussie up the mundane past and make it look more interesting than it really was. It's too bad, really. I think the actual truth is usually plenty interesting on its own merits, and these tall tales only muddy the waters and make that actual truth harder to see.

So, the way I see it is this. Either Amos Underwood took part in the Battle of Walla Walla, the most protracted and costly engagement of the Indian Wars, or he wasn't there at all, and instead he was at Fort Cascades watching Chief Chenoweth about to be hanged. I seriously doubt both accounts can be true. And since we have actual records showing Amos was a part of the Oregon Volunteers, and since the math works well with the documented history of William King Lear's presence at Fort Cascades until 9 months before Isabelle Lear Underwood was born, I think we can label the tale of Chief Chenowith, with a noose around his neck in March of 1856, giving away his daughter Taswatha to Amos as being a very, very tall tale indeed.

Mossback's Northwest on PBS did a feature on, of all things, stumps a couple of years ago. It's an interesting piece. I wonder why they don't get more views than they do.

In any case, if you take a moment and have a look at the family on and by the stump at about the 3:43 mark, you'll be looking at my great-great grandparents, William and Sarah Creviston, standing at the base with some of the children and neighbors up above, including my great-grandma who, judging by her appearance looks to be maybe 15 or 16 (she's kind of in the middle of everyone). That would date the photo to about 1899 or 1900.

A Pacific Northwest Phenomenon: the Stump Houses | Mossback's Northwest The Pacific Northwest has had many symbols over the years. At one time, it was the tree stump: it represented change, hope, frustration, and pride. Settlers ...