University of Washington - Tyee Yearbook (Seattle, WA)

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m THE WINGED YEARS Henry Landes. Dean of College of Science. rTjTlT SEEMS but yesterday, so kind have been the winged years, that the telegram came I 1 1 announcing that we were to go to the University of Washington. From our house on li ' bn ' ' small hill, overlooking a most beautiful rock-bound bay on the coast of Maine, we ' ' took one last look at the deep-blue waters of the Atlantic, and never tarried until we had crossed the continent to our new home on the Pacific border. It was on an afternoon in September, 1895, that our train arrived in Seattle, and we alighted on a broad street near the water-front. 1 he low buildmgs, the general lack of paving, the hilly streets, and the straggling nature of the city afforded to our eastern eyes some strange contrasts with Boston and New ork. First street, then called Front street, had a most dilapidated plank pavement, over which cable-cars careened in such a way that a passenger could imagine he was a child again and engaged in a game of see-saw. Second avenue was paved for a short distance with brick, and so was a section of Pike street. Third street was planked but it abounded in hills and hollows and in profile resembled some letter w ' s placed side by side. It was on Third street that the University ca r-line ran — one of the six independent lines of the city — without transfers. The running time from Yesler Way to the University was fort ' -five minutes, if the car remained on the track, which was unusual. I will never forget with what absorbing interest I made my first trip to the University over that line. After we had rattled along for an interminable time we got out of the city into the woods and it required much reassurance on the part of the conductor to make me believe that the University was yet ahead of us. I remember that I counted the abrupt turns on the way and there were twenty-two of them. There was an occasional turn-out on the track, which was hardly necessary because there were but three cars operating at one time. A rambling trail led from the car-line, through the woods and among the big stumps, to Denny Hall. This was then called the Administration building, and was not yet finished, although occupied by teachers and students. The obser ator ' was com- pleted and the instrument mounted. (An observatory had been built because the Presi- dent at that time was an astronomer. He could not be censured for preferring to look at the stars rather than at the terrestral things around about him). Peering through the straggling trees, in the distance, one could see the outlines of the gymnasium. When I first saw it I thought it was a train-shed and I expected to see a smoking engine run out of it. It was then regarded as a mere makeshift — to stand only until something better could be had. To my knowledge it has had a new roof, new walls, a new foundation and new floors — and is today the same temporar ' structure. In those early days there were very few houses north of Lake Union and faculty and students in their places of living were widely scattered. Some students lived in shacks on the University grounds and in the neighboring woods. A few members of the faculty were brave enough to live nearby, and followed the devious and winding paths which centered at the University. The President, returning home one night from some function, fell over a cow that had grown weary at night-fall and had made her do Tiy couch athwart the trail that lead to Prexy ' s house. The embarrassment was mutual. (This was not the astronomer previously mentioned. We swapped Presidents might) ' fast in those days). 18