The Donaldsons Stand Among Roslyn's Black Pioneers Part 5

Donaldson Presence in Yakima

This is the fifth part of a series on Roslyn’s Black Pioneers, made possible due to the diligent research of Lillian “Babe” (Donaldson) Warren and her husband Robert E. Williams through “The Donaldson Odyssey: Footsteps to Freedom” and the continued efforts of Donaldson family to bring their family history to light.   

Donaldson Livingston Bentley family reunion in Cle Elum, Washington, 2011. (Paula Terrell)

The current Donaldson elders pay homage to the self-published family history book The Donaldson Odyssey for connecting across 5 generations. Without its carefully preserved records, they admittedly wouldn’t know much of where their ancestors’ footsteps across the country had taken them.

“There’s a lot in that book I have no knowledge of,” said Ray Livingston, the oldest of George “Sharkey”

Donaldson’s grandchildren. The family’s journey from a plantation home in Alabama to the coal mining towns of Washington State would be lost to him if it weren’t for book author and family member Lillian Babe (Donaldson) Warren’s scrupulous research. “I read about Jessee in The Donaldson Odyssey that Babe put together. Other than that, I haven’t heard of him.” 

Now 86, Ray said that the Yakima he grew up in was a segregated town. Since he grew up with the division, he didn’t pause to think of its racist implications until later.

“Strangely enough, I didn’t realize we were being segregated. It didn’t cross my mind.” he said. “But now when people ask me, ‘Was Yakima racist?’ I tell them, ‘You bet it was.” 

 Of Yakima’s many taverns on 1st Street, Livingston says he grew accustomed to seeing signs that said, “We cater to white trade only.”  If he wanted to attend a performance at Capitol Theater, he was made to sit in the balcony. There were other theaters in Yakima where he wasn’t welcome at all.

Because he was a regularly performing vocalist and singer, Ray evaded some of the restrictions placed upon Black patrons. He was allowed to enter in at the stage door along with everyone else. He does recall an occasion back in 1954-55 when he won a Yakima singing contest. He and some other performers from surrounding areas like Tacoma, Spokane, and Bremerton were invited on a trip to Hollywood. He, another Black singer named Sammy Pleasant, and four white singers together embarked south on this trip.

“They wanted to set us up at the Hollywood Hilton,” Ray said, “but the promoter turned to Sammy and me and said, ‘you guys can’t stay here.’ The white singers got to stay, but Sammy and I were brought to South Central LA instead.”  

Though The Negro Motorist Green Book was in circulation at this time, neither Ray nor Sammy had access to it when they could have used it.

For those unfamiliar with it, The Green Book was the manual for travelers of African descent between 1936-1967 who needed to know which restaurants and lodging were inclusive safe spaces. The Smithsonian traveling exhibit, “The Negro Motorist Green Book,” vividly portrays what some of our American brothers and sisters endured as they faced the caustic realities of Sundown towns and hostile inequalities on the road.   

Civil Rights in the PNW

Though the western road symbolizes freedom to many Americans, there are definite reasons The Green Book remained in print until the late 1960’s. With over 5% of the population being African American in Seattle, the disparities in jobs, housing, and de facto education became even more visible, and it was tiring to revisit the same restrictions the Civil War’s conclusion was meant to resolve a hundred years before.

The Civil Rights movement sparked by 1963 in Washington state. Committees such as Congress of Racial Equality (CORE) implemented strategies which included, as noted by Dr. Quintard Taylor in The Forging of a Black Community, “negotiation with store managers and direct-action boycotts with accompanying picketing of businesses.” Other influential organizations included the NAACP, the Urban League, and the Jewish Anti-Defamation League, which assisted non-white people who sought housing outside Seattle’s red-lined Central District.          

The Donaldson family varied in their involvement and approach to the Civil Rights movement but all attest to its importance.  

“I didn’t participate because I couldn’t be non-violent,” Lenora Bentley said.   

Unfortunately, an early childhood incident with a white classmate calling her father a racial slur was far from the only brush with racism she experienced growing up. She recalls an occasion where her parents attended a Communist meeting—the offering of a free meal and drinks enticed—and her father was made to pay for it the following night.

She remembers how she and her sister were sleeping on a hideabed in the living room when police officers suddenly kicked down the front door and dragged her father outside.    

“I didn’t understand why they had to drag my father---a Black man---in the middle of the night. They kept him for a day. At least long enough for Mama to bring him some clothes. My uncle [Henry Donaldson] came over and fixed the door,” she said, pausing to reflect. “It scared the hell out of us. How our government can drag a Black man. It still bothers me to this day. It really does.”

Lenora said that she saw a lot of good emerging from the Black Panthers, a community organization that a lot of the Donaldson “uncles” were part of. “They were trying to educate our young people. They gave them breakfast, money for lunches and dinners. A lot of older Black people donated.” Aware of the “dangerous” reputation that attached itself to the Black Panthers so readily, Lenora said, “It wasn’t a violent organization. I don’t feel it was.” Instead, she comprehends how the Black Panthers were necessary to protect people like her father from being signaled out for further injustices.

While there are always outliers who detract from the cause, Dr. Taylor suggests that Black Panthers were sometimes written off for their black leather and beret ensemble and inflammatory rhetoric. He says in The Forging of a Black Community, “Seattle’s Panthers established a free medical clinic, prison visitation programs, a statewide sickle-cell anemia testing program, tutoring programs, and a free breakfast program for impoverished children. They were also credited with quelling random violence and attacks on police and property in the Central District in 1968 and 1969 and participating in dialogue with Asian American business groups in the District through the Seattle chapter…”

One of the many things the Civil Rights Movement did was shatter “the illusion of inclusion” that began presiding over our region since before Washington became a state. Though the work is far from finished—as we hear Henry Donaldson recount in The Forgotten Pioneers— Dr. Taylor concludes “Courageous Seattleites—primarily Blacks but also some sympathetic Asians and whites—had, during the 1960’s, demolished decades-old barriers to opportunity and equality throughout the city.”  

Beyond the Appearance of Color

From left: Ryan Anthony Donaldson, Rose Donaldson holding Jahvari Jr., Raymond Donaldson, Mary Donaldson, Gerald “Rocky” Donaldson, Cheryl Smith, at the Roslyn Cemetery Kiosk Dedication event, May 20, 2021. (Lori Beth White)

Since The Donaldson Odyssey’s inception, not every Donaldson family member has embraced the knowledge of their Black roots, though most pride themselves in having an ancestor who showed such unwavering courage and determination as family patriarch and Civil War veteran Jessee.

Paula said her great uncle’s children were told to “stop acting Black” and that she watched them “being put down for presenting as they really are.” She said that she handed a copy of The Donaldson Odyssey to a cousin and that it “took a while for her to digest it and decide that she wanted to come in. She was told she was white growing up and later learned she was part of this larger family.”

Paula has one relative who has yet to reach back after being told of her Black ancestry, saying “she is probably comfortable with who she is being white, but she probably knows in the back of her head” there’s more to her story.  

Not everyone from Jessee’s direct bloodline visually presents as African American, but they still closely identify with their Black ancestry and celebrate it.

“We have a number of people like Ryan and myself who don’t look Black at all,” family member Al “Butch” Smith said, adding that he has a biological sister who has dark skin, both of whom are the children of Al Smith Sr. and Isabelle “Izzy” (Donaldson) Smith. “There are a few of us who essentially look white, but don’t identify as white. We pass in the context of white privilege since people don’t know our history.”

Group photo from the 2016 Donaldson Livingston Bentley (DLB) Family Reunion in Cle Elum, Washington. (Paula Terrell)

“We’re a proud family,” Paula said, reflecting the various shades that comprise the Donaldsons, Bentleys, and Livingstons. “I love all the different dynamics. I embrace every aspect.”    

A Reflection on Jessee   

While much is already researched and written on them, the Donaldsons continue charting their family’s legacy.

Over a dozen Donaldsons attended the 44th annual Roslyn Black Pioneers Picnic in August 2022. They cherished the opportunity to exchange stories of their Roslyn roots with the Cravens, the only original Black pioneer family who still resides in the coal mining town. The picnic has a celebratory tone every year, yet there’s also seriousness to the time when ancestors are spoken of and remembered with respect.  

The Donaldsons are writing a narrative account expanding on Jessee and Anna’s lives. Built upon the foundation of The Donaldson Odyssey, this new account will include additional details that have been discovered with an intended audience of intergenerational family members. It is important for each generation of Donaldsons to understand their Alabama and Tennessee roots.

They also want to research the white Donaldsons prior to the Revolutionary War. Lenora said, “I want to know more about our white side. Who were they? What kind of people were they?”

Ryan echoed her sentiment, saying “I’ve wondered about them too. With [my wife] Lori’s parents living 30 minutes from the original planation in Hazel Green, Alabama, we went to visit it. While we there, we came across some of Levi and Charlotte’s line, and we paid our respects at the gravesite. We wanted to center our Black relatives first and [though it’s still our focus], we are interested in knowing more of the white side.”           

Tia Juanita Jackson, one of Jessee and Anna’s descendants, said that she revisited The Donaldson Odyssey a year ago and that the work Babe did on it is extraordinary. She wouldn’t have known about her Alabama roots without the anthology. If there’s anything left to uncover, Tia said she’d like to know more about matriarch Anna and the women who followed in her footsteps. “The women in our family are strong. I’d love to know more about Anna and see where that gene came from. I’m curious to know how she lived her life. There’s a church characteristic that runs through out family. I have distinct memories of going with Aunt Lenora and Aunt Babe, and it [appears] evangelism is woven into our fabric. I don’t know much about the women, the sisters in our family, and I’d really like to.”

Jessee Donaldson photograph in McNeil Island Penitentiary Inmate Intake Register, December 17, 1902. (National Archives at Seattle)

Since made aware of the verified image of his five times great-grandfather, Ryan said his impression for what Jessee endured has deepened considerably. The photo depicts Jessee on the day of his arrest in December 1902, decades after fighting for his freedom with the United States Colored Troops in the Civil War.      

Upon seeing the image of Jessee for the first time ever this July, relative in-law Vernon Jackson couldn’t stop marveling over the uncanny resemblance Jessee shared with Jessee’s son, George “Sharkey” Donaldson, a man he said, was “tall, handsome, always chewing tobacco and carrying a Folgers can around. He was a wonderful man and treated us real good.” 

 Ryan said “I thought about how Jessee had to spend Christmas without his family. The sensitivity in his eyes amidst another episode of indignity in his life. How Jessee's life literally shows the connection between enslavement to the development of prisons in the United States. Seeing through his body posture the physical pain and injuries he sustained. I am astounded that Jessee summoned the strength and fortitude to work the difficult and dangerous labor in the coal mines in Roslyn.”

Ryan said it’s bittersweet knowing that this verified photo came from Jessee’s incarceration. He wishes the circumstances were different, such as the photo of Jessee attending one of his children’s weddings.

“I also recognize how rare it is for us, as an African American family, to even have a photo of our patriarch, a man who had been born enslaved in 1846 and had passed on in 1913. Many families do not have any photos of their enslaved ancestors.”

Despite reflecting on the gravity of Jessee’s experiences, Ryan and his family see with Jessee’s photo a renewed a sense of purpose and hope. Jessee rose above his circumstances at every turn, and he never stopped advancing toward the life he and his family desired. It’s time more people knew his name. 

In a letter from Babe to the Roslyn Museum, Babe summed up the overall goal carried forward today, for the Donaldsons “to take their rightful place as part of the history of Roslyn,” joining alongside their fellow Black Pacific Northwest pioneer families, including the Cravens, Barnetts, Breckenridges, Taylors, and Harts.

Resources for Further Research:

13TH (film). Netflix, 2016.

BlackPast.org, blackpast.org

Equal Justice Initiative, eji.org

Hall, Raymond. “Kings, Knights, and Pawns: Black Coal Miners and Racial Conflict in Washington Territory.” The Pacific Northwest Quarterly, Vol. 105, No. 2 (Spring 2014), pp. 85-96.

Hayes, Ralph. Black Miners. Unpublished manuscript draft. Undated. Ralph C. Hayes papers, 1941-1999. Accession No. 5361-001. Folder “Writings: Black Miners’ Typescripts.” Box 7. University of Washington Libraries Special Collections.

Hayes, Ralph. Northwest Black Pioneers: A Centennial Tribute (Seattle, WA: Bon Marche), 1994.

Moore, Ernest. The Coal Miner Who Came West. (Self-published), 1982

Mumford, Esther Hall. Seattle's Black Victorians 1852-1901 (Seattle, WA: Ananse Press), 1980.

Shideler, John C. Coal Towns in the Cascades: A Centennial History of Roslyn and Cle Elum, Washington (Spokane, WA: Melior Publications), 1986.

Stevenson, Bryan. Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption (One World), 2015.

Taylor, Quintard. The Forging of a Black Community: Seattle's Central District from 1870 through the Civil Rights Era (Seattle, WA: University of Washington Press), 2022.

"The Forgotten Pioneers", produced by Nerissa Williams and Lisa Cohen - Washington Centennial Ethnic Heritage Project. “First Sunday” series. KIRO, 1988. Item 8831, Record Series 3902-01, Seattle Municipal Archives. https://archive.org/details/SMA_8831

Trimble, Jaymi. Roslyn (Images of America). (Mount Pleasant, SC: Arcadia Publishing), 2008.

Warren, Lillian C. and Robert E. Williams. The Donaldson Odyssey: Footsteps to Freedom (Seattle, WA: L.C. Warren and R.E. Williams), 1991.

Wilkerson, Isabel. Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents (New York, NY: Random House), 2020.

The Donaldsons Stand Among Roslyn's Black Pioneers Part 4

Donaldson Presence in Seattle

This is the fourth part of a series on Roslyn’s Black Pioneers, made possible due to the diligent research of Lillian “Babe” (Donaldson) Warren and her husband Robert E. Williams through “The Donaldson Odyssey: Footsteps to Freedom” and the continued efforts of Donaldson family to bring their family history to light.

It might surprise some to learn that Manuel Lopes, a Black man, made his home in Seattle 10 years before the Civil War. Or that there was an African American man named York who contributed to the Lewis and Clark Expedition traveling down the Columbia River to the Pacific Coast. Or that a Black man named George Washington is responsible for settling Centralia, Washington, with a monument, unveiled last year, commemorating him at Olympia’s Capitol Campus. Or that Nettie Asberry, a Black woman suffragist, was a co-founder of the Tacoma NAACP, the first chapter west of the Rockies.  Until recent years, such history was left to the margins of history books if there was a mention at all.

Following the footsteps of these early founding pioneers, the Donaldsons migrated to Seattle at the beginning of the 20th century.    

“There’s a belief that Black people don’t exist in the west,” Dr. Quintard Taylor said at the June 2022 book launch for his second edition of The Forging of a Black Community at the Seattle Public Library.  He went on to say, “There are a lot of Black experiences, and they are as valid here as anywhere.”

From left: Horace and Susie Revels Cayton, ca. 1896. (Headlines and Pictures, July 1945)

Likewise, Horace and Susie Revels Cayton, cited by African American historian Esther Mumford in her seminal book Seattle’s Black Victorians as the “best known Aframericans in Seattle at the turn of the [20th] century,” played an important role in documenting the Donaldsons’ lives over a 20-year period.

The Caytons were among some of the most educated people in Seattle regardless of color, and yet they endured the racist constraints put upon them. Together in 1894 they first published the widely circulated The Seattle Republican. Utilizing informants and based on the Caytons’ travels through the area, every issue of their paper included a local Roslyn section, along with other Black pioneer towns and cities. In combing through the succinct summaries, interested family members or researchers can quickly gain insight into lives from the past, including trips, church functions and special events, as the Donaldsons have had the good fortune to do. Digitized versions of The Seattle Republican can be freely accessed on the Library of Congress website, Chronicling America. 

The Caytons with their children composed one of two Black families to reside in Seattle’s Capitol Hill neighborhood. According to African American historian Ralph Hayes, Dr. Taylor, and others, they lost some of their standing when their publication spoke out against the lynching occurring in other states. As soon as their reporting turned slightly political (emphasizing human rights), their business was made to suffer, with white readers cancelling subscriptions en masse. In 2021, the Cayton-Revels House was designated a City of Seattle Landmark in recognition of the family’s historical significance. The landmarks nomination, written by Taha Ebrahimi, is available online and provides an extensive background and further details on the Caytons and their children.

Though Washington is often hailed as a progressive state, some historical accounts will tell you that the Black tolerance might in part be because the African American population was so small for the first four decades of the 20th century.  There are too many occasions of racial upheaval—the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1888, being one of them—to claim ethnicity had no bearing on where one stood in society. By the onset of World War I and the Great Migration, Seattle had more clearly defined norms for where non-white communities could frequent and reside. Prior unspoken “rules” dictated how non-white people could interact, socialize, and marry.      

In his foundational work, Dr. Taylor chronicles the African American community from the 1870’s through the Civil Rights Movement. He said that the work he does as a historian involves refusing to “propagate American mythology that Black people haven’t done anything in the west.” 

One need only look to the online resource center Dr. Taylor he oversees, BlackPast.Org, to comprehend the global experiences and contributions of hundreds of people with African Ancestry. With over 8,000 posts and growing, BlackPast.Org provides worldwide access as the largest web-based resource for African American history.

After Seattle’s Great Fire of 1889, opportunity abounded more for some people than others. With an influx of European immigrants moving to the region, competition grew for manual labor and service jobs.  John Thomas Gayton, who arrived in Seattle as the coachman to a white doctor and his father at age 24, began his own business as a barber, then worked his way up to being a head steward and eventually a Federal Court Librarian. William Grose, Seattle’s second Black settler, became a prominent hotel and restaurant operator and property owner. While Gayton’s and Grose’s stories were successes, not all Black families experienced such an ascent up the ladder.  

From left: Henry Donaldson and Lillian "Babe" Donaldson, ca. 1980s. (Donaldson Family)

Babe’s own father, Henry Donaldson, contributed to a video series called “The Forgotten Pioneers” for the Washington Centennial Ethnic Heritage Project. Airing in 1988 on KIRO, video producer and anchorwoman Nerissa Williams interviewed him about his experience growing up in Roslyn. He recounts the story of his father, General, traveling west when he was only 13 years old.

“I heard three train loads came out, and my dad came out on one of them,” Henry said. “No. 3 mine was the biggest mine is Roslyn, and that’s where they had all this trouble starting, and that’s when they brought the [Black miners] in.”

For decades coal was the desired commodity, and men toiled long and hard to extract it from the earth. Despite a contentious start where African American newcomers were often threatened, Black and white miners eventually formed a working relationship in the mines. One’s color was not of utmost importance when faced with the rigors of tilling the earth as a team, trying to stay clear from cave ins and other injuries.   

As demand for coal subsided and Black families dispersed throughout the state, they found opportunities in other trades. Yet they were often limited by the “powers that be” by how far they could reach, where they could frequent, and where they could reside.

When Henry later lived in Seattle, his business – Donaldson’s House Contracting Co. – suffered from his African American customers facing financing barriers. “We couldn’t get loans or FHAs from the bank,” he said of the widespread discrimination.

There were also spoken and unspoken rules about which people could frequent businesses. For instance, Seattle’s Metropolitan Theater would only allow Black patrons to go to a separate box office and sit in the balcony. It was called “N---- Heaven” at the time. Seattle’s Moore Theatre still has the original segregated side door that once separated access for the theatre’s Black patrons. If a proprietor wanted to open a barbershop, they had to decide Black or white customers---it wasn’t acceptable to serve both.

“I’ve been to a lot of places that refused to serve you,” Henry said. “Of course, if I knew I wasn’t going to be served, I didn’t want to be embarrassed so I wouldn’t go in. You couldn’t go to a lot of shows. You couldn’t sit wherever you wanted to; you had to go where they put you.”

Henry Donaldson purchased a home for his family in Seattle by 1940, but as his daughter Babe tells it in The Donaldson Odyssey, “We were one of the first Black families to move into the neighborhood and were the subjects of racial harassment both day and night. Some of the neighbors wasted no time in putting their homes up for sale.”

This trend of “white flight” is well documented through the mid 20th century. Lenora Bentley said that her mother was a white woman who claimed she was “mulatto” so she wouldn’t have to explain why she’d married a Black man. Her mother and her aunt, Babe, bought two respective homes in Seattle around 28th Avenue South and Dearborn Street in the early 1950’s. She said, “They both looked white. When their husbands, who are Black, showed up later, all the whites eventually moved out.”   

Though Seattle is often credited for not having segregated schools, Donaldson family members will tell you integrated schools had more to do with the low percentage of Black students in the region than a sense of justice or progressiveness of the times. African American students experienced unequal treatment from an early age.

Lenora recalls an occasion when her father, whose skin appeared darker than her own, arrived at her school, doing his job as an employee of Seattle Disposal. As he was on his way out, “Dad hollered at me. When I said, ‘hi Daddy,’ a little white boy said, ‘is that n---- your daddy?”

“I beat that boy up for saying that, and they kicked me out of school because of it,” Lenora said, meanwhile alluding to the fact that her classmate wasn’t corrected for his racist remarks. Not even a slap on the hand.

From left: Al “Butch” Smith with his son Greg, posing in front of Al Smith’s photograph of Isabelle “Izzy” (Donaldson) Smith, at the “Perspectives on Place: Photographs from Here” exhibition at the Museum of History and Industry (MOHAI), May 26, 2022. (Ryan Anthony Donaldson)

Butch Smith, son to Isabelle “Izzy” Donaldson and renowned African American photographer Al Smith, recalls what it was like to grow up in the “segregated redline district” of Seattle. He didn’t often consider the limitations placed upon African Americans until realizing that only Black doctors would treat him. He was sixteen years old before he saw a white doctor for the first time.

 In reflecting on his father’s photography, which captures the spirit of the Central District Al resided in for all 92 years of his life, Smith said, “He knew down deep what needed to be documented.” He recalls the “magic” of assisting his father with images in the dark room and waiting to see what would materialize. Al couldn’t have known how many of his photographs from his “On the Spot” business would stand the test of time. Some of his photographs are currently on display at the Smithsonian’s traveling “Negro Motorist Green Book” exhibit, as part of the art collection on display at the Jackson Apartments in Seattle’s Central District, and forming part of the Interview Wall at Black-owned Emmy award-winning media company Converge Media’s studio in downtown Seattle.

As evidenced from Smith’s body of work, the Central District night clubs were diverse and integrated.  Jackson Street was regarded as the city’s melting pot. In group photos, you’ll find whites alongside Native Americans, Asians, and African Americans. The photographs prove that despite unspoken societal restrictions and active suppression, there were places where interracial acceptance, friendship, and love was revered and encouraged. While photographs taken at community venues such as the Black and Tan Hall don’t eradicate the problems and pitfalls outside those walls, they instead showcase a community willing to disrupt the status quo (Black & Tan Hall | Seattle, WA (blackandtanhall.com).       

It might surprise some to realize that Washington is the only western state without an anti-miscegenation ban.  Whereas there was a short-lived ban on interracial marriage when Washington was a territory back in 1855, the ban was eradicated in 1868, revisited in 1935 and overturned again. But simply because there wasn’t a legal jurisdiction didn’t mean that love across color lines was commonly accepted. The Donaldsons would know, having been a biracial family since the nineteenth century.

The Donaldsons Stand Among Roslyn's Black Pioneers Part 3

General Donaldson’s Westward Story

This is the third part of a series on Roslyn’s Black Pioneers, made possible due to the diligent research of Lillian “Babe” (Donaldson) Warren and her husband Robert E. Williams through “The Donaldson Odyssey: Footsteps to Freedom” and the continued efforts of Donaldson family to bring their family history to light.

(From left) Man believed to be General Donaldson with his brother George “Sharkey” Donaldson, ca. 1904. (Al “Butch” Smith).

With a growing family of seven children living in Tennessee, Jessee and Anna Donaldson kept hearing of improved opportunities for African Americans in a small town called Roslyn way out west in Washington state. At the end of the 19th century, Roslyn was quickly becoming a coveted destination for diverse and immigrant populations. Coal was an ever-increasing energy commodity, fueled by the Northern Pacific Railroad’s expansion. Opportunity abounded for those willing to work hard with long hours. African American labor recruiter James “Big Jim” Shepperson led hiring efforts.Big Jim was also a politician, business owner, and community leader for African American families ready to spread roots west.

Not quite ready to relocate their entire family to the Pacific Northwest, Jessee and Anna made the difficult decision to send their oldest son solo, thirteen-year-old General. He was (named after Jessee’s friend General Townsend who served with him in the United States Colored Troops 15th Regiment. General was entrusted to scout out the region for them first. Soon after General boarded the Franklin, WA bound company train, he was taken under Big Jim’s wing, and the Donaldsons came to regard him as a benevolent family friend. General is referenced by one of his nicknames “James Donaldson” in Ernest Moore’s The Coal Miner Who Came West for the May 1891 passenger record, disembarking in Cle Elum prior to the train’s final stop. 

Despite Mr. Shepperson’s valuable aid, the modern-day Donaldsons shake their heads in wonder, envisioning their own thirteen-year-old family members taking a train across the country. So often kids this age are just coming into their own, taking off on bike rides or starting to go to the movies with their friends. Moving to another state alone full of uncertainty of how you’ll be received for the color of your skin is hard to fathom. 

“General inspires me almost as much as Jessee for traveling to Roslyn by himself,” Butch said. “He may have had Big Jim’s guidance, but he decided to travel ahead of his family, and it was a [contentious/difficult time]. They didn’t know they’d be breaking a white coal miner’s strike and issued rifles. Some Black men got off the train rather than [enter the fray]. They were considered “scabs” for being the replacement to white miners. They weren’t well received, and it was a difficult beginning in Roslyn.”         

Though recognized for his vast influence as a leader, including his founding of the Black Masonic Lodge, Shepperson remains a controversial character in Roslyn’s history. He appealed directly to Black families, promising opportunities to own land, but he reportedly failed to mention that they’d be breaking white coal miners’ strikes.  When revealed, this intentionally omitted information tempered the enthusiasm of the recruited Black families seeking a better life.     

When Black male miners and their families arrived, they were met with an intense and oppressive environment. One telegram sent to Tacoma in December of 1888 details how the “new men were badly used up” and how “mob reign rules in Roslyn tonight.” Families customarily traveled later to join their brothers, uncles, and husbands.

"Mine No. 3, Ronald, Washington" (1915). Roslyn African American History Photographs. 48.
https://digitalcommons.cwu.edu/roslyn_african_american_history/48 (Central Washington University Libraries)

As Black miners first arrived at their worksite, they were often escorted by Pinkerton guards and carried weapons to defend themselves. The #3 mine was protected with barbed wire, a dirt barrier, and logs to fortify safety for Black miners to work. (Roslyn: Images of America).

Many Black workers made their first homes in makeshift shanties in the old town of Jonesville nearby, just beyond Ronald. Within time, Shepperson began a popular recreation hall in Roslyn, and The Seattle Republican praised him as “the power in Kittitas County politics” (James Edward Shepperson (1858-1934) • (blackpast.org)). Community clubs and churches were established through local networks with connections back home.

 Though some historical accounts tend to gloss over the ease at which Black families were accepted and enabled to earn equal pay, not all accounts mention the first years when African Americans were threatened and treated with hostility. In the first year they arrived, they froze through the winter in inadequate housing and their loved ones were reportedly not even permitted burial in the Roslyn Cemetery (see Coal Town in the Cascades).  Organizations like the Knights of Pythias would soon enough form to cover such essential expenses with Mount Olivet designated as the separated African American burial site.  

General saw enough potential beyond the shortcomings of this new Pacific Northwest destination that he urged his entire family to join him. General began mining soon after his arrival in Roslyn and survived the deadly explosion that claimed many lives on that notorious day of May 13, 1892. Regarded as Roslyn’s bleakest time to this date, General experienced the dangerous gas filling the air and the subsequent wave of sadness that enshrouded Roslyn in the wake of 45 men killed.

One doesn’t have to look too hard to realize General inherited his father Jessee’s persistence and fortitude. Surviving through the town’s tragedy, General continued to work the coal mines and learned the trade of carpentry in his spare hours. He had the support of Big Jim and so did his father. Shepperson’s signature is found on one of Jessee’s many petitions for his pension. 

According to his McNeil Island prisoner intake ledger, Jessee Donaldson and the rest of his family finally set out for the land of purple wildflowers, plunging blue waters, and evergreen surroundings in 1894.

In 1897, Jessee realized his dream, becoming property owner of a Roslyn frame house and all outhouses on the south and east of the 6th block. He stepped into the dual roles of coal miner and farmer for the next five to seven years. 

It took 15 years for Jessee to receive his first pension check. To obtain it, he’d applied repeatedly, enlisted the testimonies of friends, and endured setbacks from his injuries without it. The musket that had blown up in his face took a lot of his eyesight along with a diagnosis of photophobia. To imagine that he endured this plight and still tunneled below ground with his pickaxe and lamp on his hat for years is humbling.  There’s record that Jessee finally received his first pension check for $24 in 1908. 

Though living in the Pacific Northwest demanded much of his sweat and toil, Jessee didn’t allow anything to hold him back. He kept one foot in front of the other. What’s monumental about his time in Roslyn is that he was able to put down roots on land that belonged to him. It was a dream fulfilled after sixteen years enslaved by his birth father and his white stepmother, his four years of service in the War, three years of jailtime in Tennessee, and more years of waiting until he had an adequate income stream. But life didn’t get easier for Jessee.

 He unfortunately lost his wife of 30 years, Anna, to tuberculosis in 1904 and was tasked with raising his children alone. It’s a responsibility he took to heart like all the rest that crossed his path.

One instance of Jessee looking out for his own occurred soon after his son, George “Sharkey”, was injured in the mines. 

When he was nineteen, Sharkey was working as a switcher in Mine #2 and was in an accident that injured his leg and his foot. His father filed guardianship of Sharkey’s affairs and obtained his son’s settlement from the Northwestern Improvement Company. Sharkey was awarded $400 for damages caused, and Jessee continued to look out for his son’s accounts until he was 21 years of age. 

Sharkey worked the Roslyn mines for years, even after he married his wife, Pearl, and they had three children of their own. Sharkey dabbled in gold mining for a time under his father-in-law’s direction, but his mining years began to wane after his wife’s tragic death, also to tuberculosis. He eventually followed in his family’s footsteps and moved further west to Seattle seeking opportunities.        

1902 Roslyn Map with magnified view showing Donaldson property at the corner of 1st Street and Montana Avenue. (Roslyn Ronald Cle Elum Heritage Club).

Though the Donaldsons didn’t remain Roslyn residents beyond the 1910s, the town’s significance is paramount to them. One of the Donaldson’s precious keepsakes is the land deed to the family’s home on 1st Street and Montana Avenue. A Roslyn map gifted by the Roslyn Ronald Cle Elum Heritage Club is one of the family’s most cherished documents.    

Moved by the sacrifices of his ancestors, Ray Donaldson presented a script on Jessee’s life (co-written by son Ryan and cousin Butch) as part of the Living History Portrayal at the Roslyn Cemetery Kiosk Dedication in June 2021. Donaldson family members made the trip over the Cascade mountains, some for the first time, in honor of this event. For all involved, and it was an enriching experience to return to the stomping grounds of ancestors.       

“It’s intriguing to consider what Jessee and Anna endured, but I also can’t imagine it,” Ray said of his family’s determination to forge forward in a society so often opposed to their right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. 

Forced to grow up quickly, General forged his own Pacific Northwest path. In 1897, he married Louisa “Ollie” Nicholas-Clark, the daughter of another Roslyn Black pioneer family hailing from Illinois. General learned that the Nicholas family traveled to Roslyn on the same train as he, though he didn’t make their acquaintance until later.

Though skilled at coal mining, General’s first love was always carpentry. Babe writes in the Red Book that “every opportunity that was made available to him, he would remodel, repair, or build homes. Not only did he enjoy this work, but he was also able to supplement and provide for his growing family.”

General and Louisa were blessed with 12 children. Ray and his son Ryan Anthony Donaldson emerged from this branch. The family house that General built at the turn of the century, called “The Robin’s Nest” still stands in Roslyn today. For those unfamiliar with it, it’s a renovated, painted-blue home available for vacation renters in near downtown.

 General sold the home back in 1916 to a Roslyn resident named Eva Strong.  General had decided it was time for his branch to move to Yakima, WA to farm. With the demand for coal decreasing in Roslyn, General felt the need to put down roots where he could make more of a living.  

Before he took up farming onions, General and his family weathered uncomfortable living arrangements in Yakima. They had to reside in large wooden boxes with tarps for roofs as they awaited ownership of a new home. His son, Henry Donaldson, later attested to them being warm, but it still took considerable time and patience for the large family to have a more suitable home.  

The area where the Donaldsons first lived in Yakima was called “Shanty Town.” In 1918, General found the land for his family to settle. Unable to produce a down payment, he and his family had to stay in tents and rent the acreage until they could save enough money to purchase it. Fortunately, the onion crop of 1920 was so strong that General was able to afford the down payment. 

Over time, General owned 20 acres of orchard and 30 acres of farmland. The going wasn’t easy from thereon out, especially as the Depression swept over the nation and diminished the value of farm products. Though General had a surplus of apples on his farm, he sometimes had to dump them when they didn’t sell. 

He was forced into the wrenching decision to give up owning his land and work as a ranch foreman for white rancher Harold Cahoon. Through saving up, General eventually was able to purchase the Yakima family home his children had grown up in.  

General’s perseverance against the odds---which mirrors that of his parents, Jessee and Anna—is indicative of the resolve that runs in the Donaldson bloodline. 

Whereas General traveled east to farm, many Black miners moved west to Seattle and other nearby cities once work in the mines leveled out.

The Donaldsons Stand Among Roslyn's Black Pioneers Part 2

Jessee and Anna (Smalley) Donaldson

This is the second part of a series on Roslyn’s Black Pioneers, made possible due to the diligent research of Lillian “Babe” (Donaldson) Warren and her husband Robert E. Williams through “The Donaldson Odyssey: Footsteps to Freedom” and the continued efforts of Donaldson family to bring their family history to light.

Patriarch Jessee Donaldson was born in 1846 in Huntsville, Alabama, the son to Sarah, a Black woman who was enslaved and the father believed to be the plantation’s white owner, Levi Donaldson. Levi also happened to be a Baptist minister and was married to a white woman named Charlotte when he set eyes on Sarah. It was widely known that Jessee was Levi’s son, with Jessee noting in a disability affidavit 50 years later that his father was his “only master.” From his earliest years, Jessee was set apart from the 50 or so other enslaved people living on the plantation.

He was spared the punishing demands of the enslaved Black people in the fields, tasked with picking cotton until their hands ached and bled. But he was still in a role of servitude to his father and half siblings in the family house, and that’s something he couldn’t and wouldn’t abide.

Jessee was presumably cited as the sole male “mulatto” on the Donaldson planation according to the 1860 United States Census Slave Schedule. Though Levi couldn’t directly admit Jessee was his son, he apparently allowed for this terminology as head of household.

When the Northern army was recruiting enslaved people to join their efforts, Jessee seized the opportunity. While his mother, Sarah, feared for his safety, she understood his need to be a free man and aided him in his departure from the Donaldson plantation. Jessee ventured out from under a life of slavery by enlisting in the Tennessee 15th U.S. Colored Infantry Regiment for the Union Army when he was only sixteen years old.       

Routt House, "Hazel Green," Photograph Collection, HMCPL Special Collections. Image taken ca. 1960s prior to the fire that burned down the house. (Huntsville Public Library Special Collections)

The Donaldsons’ former plantation house was owned by Elizabeth Dale. Rumored to have killed six of her seven husbands, she was dubbed the “Black Widow of Hazel Green.” Coming under such scrutiny, she needed to sell the home and get out of dodge quickly. Levi and Charlotte Donaldson purchased the home to raise their family, which included the people who were enslaved there, and Dale was never heard from again.

Although fire destroyed the house in the 1960s, the original Donaldson cemetery lives on, and is the final resting place for Levi, Charlotte, and multiple household members.

“One of the things that really chilled me is that when she [Dale] built the home, there was a servant bell in every room,” Ryan said during his presentation on the Donaldson family at the Roslyn, Ronald, Cle Elum Heritage Club in the fall of 2021.     

Levi is portrayed in some family stories and other accounts as perhaps more lenient than other “masters” by permitting marriage ceremonies known as “jumping the broom.” However, just as was done by all the “masters” Levi rationalized white supremacy, claiming ownership over human beings. At least 50 of them. The Hazel Green plantation was increasingly a place Jessee was more than eager to flee, risking it all. Seizing his chance, he enlisted in the Civil War in Shelbyville, Tennessee in 1862 before his regiment had formed.

Jessee sent word of his whereabouts to his friends and loved ones, and eventually his half-brother Washington and friend, General Townsend, joined him in the Tennessee 15th U.S. Colored Infantry in the fight for their freedom.

“The [entire] U.S. Black infantry was made up of over 180,000 Black soldiers,” said Butch Smith. “Abraham Lincoln indicated we would not have won the war were it not for Black soldiers.”

Butch went on to say that Jessee had three years of combat experience in Tennessee. His injuries are verified since he was required to repeatedly describe them to earn his long sought-after pension. “He had a musket blow up in his face, and he was also shot in the shoulder,” Smith said. According to Jessee’s military records and pension applications, he was also hung by his thumbs at one point as a Captain’s punishment, a critical factor that Jessee testified led to his musket misfiring.    

It’s staggering to realize that after the Union army won the War, Jessee, along with his brothers and the entire regiment, lacked a home to call their own. There was little roadmap in a wildly uncertain time aside from advisement of the Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen, and Abandoned Lands, the government entity established to assist the formerly enslaved. Recently the Freedmen’s Bureau Records were made freely available online by Ancestry.com, and the Donaldson family located some of Jessee’s military records, although the full scope of the Freedman’s Bureau involvement is still unknown.

As a sidenote, after the Union army won the Civil War, Levi Donaldson’s plantation fell upon hard times. Levi was no longer able to manage an enslaved labor force and reap the profits, with his estate falling into disrepair. His fortune reversed, Levi was said to have died a near penniless man.

In the Odyssey, Babe writes, “although slavery days were over, the Black man was still treated with a great amount of disdain and still must account for his whereabouts and show proof of freedom.”

As you might imagine, once the War ended, Jessee didn’t know where to live out his legally newfound freedom. 

“Of all places to go after the war, he ended up in Pulaski, Tennessee,” Butch said. “It’s the same town where local ’hero’ Nathan Bedford Forrest lived. Before the War, Forrest was a white slaver. He was a millionaire who imported and sold enslaved people. During the War, he was an officer in the Confederate army,” Butch continued. “He became infamous, massacring a regiment of Black soldiers at Fort Pillow, Tennessee.”

“When the Black regiment attempted to surrender, Forrest had the captives shot and mutilated,” Butch said. “Tennessee as a state is conflicted. On one hand they see this guy as a state hero because of his military strategies, but he became a founder of the Ku Klux Klan. Jessee ended up living in the same town, and I’m trying to imagine what that must have been like.” 

While they can never fully understand Jessee’s complicated experience as a newly liberated Black man in the post-War south, Jessee’s family ponders the frustration he must have experienced, repeatedly reapplying for lengthy applications and affidavits, while being examined by doctors dubious of his true condition.

It was later discovered that Jessee was jailed in Tennessee from 1871-1873 for allegedly “stealing hogs.” Though Babe didn’t include this account in The Red Book—perhaps to appease relatives who didn’t want the past publicized, to protect Jessee’s legacy, or because the documentation was not available to her —the Donaldsons recently learned more details of his difficult experiences in the Jim Crow south.

Ryan recognizes how uncanny it is that sections of Jessee’s story have seemingly fallen in his lap. He may have set out to visit his ancestor’s past dwelling places, but he didn’t expect the Donaldson plantation site to be only half an hour driving distance from his wife’s childhood home.

Likewise, in searching for Jessee’s past records, Ryan learned of the Library of Congress’ Chronicling America project and found Jessee’s name mentioned in a multi-year batch of Pulaski Citizen newspapers. More research showed the county prison where Jessee was held was burned to the ground, so Ryan was amazed to find the old prison ledger preserved during a visit to the Giles County Courthouse. 

Photograph of page from Giles County court ledger with the State of Tennessee vs. Jesse Donaldson in 1871. (Ryan Anthony Donaldson)

“We were able to hold 150-year-old documents, and it was almost poetic,” Ryan said. “You can see the smoke seemingly smoldering on it and the water stains. The fact that it survived and that it’s there for us to see is remarkable.” 

Invited to inspect the local jail’s mobile holding pen, a historic relic similar to the one Jessee was made to rest while performing the manual labor of his sentence, Ryan recoiled. Realizing that farm animals are treated better, he was unprepared to further explore the inhumanity of his ancestor’s living conditions. “His story is one of justice deferred,” Ryan said, alluding to the fact it took three entire years to schedule Jessee’s trial, with his sentence ultimately a fraction of the time he was imprisoned. “Going to the courthouse in Tennessee, I was struck by the coarse indignity that denied his freedom yet again.” 

In The Odyssey, there’s record of Jessee’s first marriage to a woman named Lizzie, who passed away soon after they married. Jessee remarried Anna Smalley in 1875 in Georgia. Family tradition describes Anna as having African and Native American ancestry. The Donaldsons have one photograph they believe to be her, handed down to them. They are interested in elevating what is known about their matriarch.

Donaldson family, ca. 1902, in Roslyn, Washington. Top row (from left): William “Peck”, General “J.J.”, George “Sharkey”, unidentified man. Bottom row (from left): Mary, woman believed to be Anna (holding baby Gladys), Eugene, Hattie, Lizzie, Frankie, and woman believed to be Louisa Nicholas-Clark (General’s wife and mother of the 3 children). (Al “Butch” Smith)

Digitized period newspapers such as the Seattle Republican reveal that Anna was a leader in the local Mt. Zion Baptist church, traveled to Cincinnati as a delegate for a national Baptist convention, and volunteered with the Home Foreign Mission Circle. But beyond that, Anna remains an elusive yet equally important presence, as Jessee’s life partner and the mother to their 10 children, seven of whom survived to adulthood. Their names are as follows: Hattie (born 1876), General (“J.J.”) (born 1878), Thad (born 1881), Mary (born 1885), Elizabeth (“Lizzie”) (born 1888), George (“Sharkey”) (born 1890), and William (“Peck”) (born 1893).  Today, there are six branches residing throughout Washington state, California, Texas, Ohio, and beyond. 

“I feel called and compelled to tell Jessee’s story,” said Ryan. “It interacts so much with U.S. history and is laced through so many eras. I’m living and embracing this laid out path, so many [of my family’s anecdotes] have found me.”

Over his lifetime, Jessee toiled in numerous trades to make a living.  He was a Union soldier. A farmer. A coal miner. It was the late 1890’s, in fact, when coal called. There was such a high demand to extract coal from the earth that Jessee, like many hardworking men, heeded its call. As labor unions formed and white miners striked for better wages and other benefits, recruitment intensified for Chinese American workers and later African American workers.

Jessee and Anna’s embrace of the opportunity to move their family west proved to be a seismic change for their future. Jessee’s son General would also take part in the same coal mining venture as his father and was the first family member to see the Pacific Northwest with his own eyes.    

The Donaldsons Stand Among Roslyn's Black Pioneers Part 1

by Alisa Weis and Ryan Anthony Donaldson

Authors’ note: This is the first part of a five-part series on Roslyn’s Black Pioneers, made possible due to the diligent research of Lillian “Babe” (Donaldson) Warren and her husband Robert E. Williams through The Donaldson Odyssey: Footsteps to Freedom and the continued efforts of the Donaldson family to bring their family history to light.

Jessee Donaldson in McNeil Island Penitentiary Inmate Intake Register, December 17, 1902 (Photo courtesy of National Archives at Seattle)

Jessee Donaldson achieved his freedom before he was fully grown.

In one snapshot Jessee Donaldson is frozen in time: It’s 1902. He’s sitting up straight in a chair, wearing a striped prison issued shirt and a hardy expression that hints at the struggles he’d overcome. He faced more than your average man and lived to prevail despite so many atrocities placed upon him.

Jessee began his life enslaved by his presumed white father and white stepmother and their children. Joining him in this same household was his Black birth mother and Black half siblings who were also enslaved.

Jessee joined the Union Army exactly one year after the Civil War began to escape slavery. He sustained lifelong injuries that hindered but did not hold him back.

In years to come he and his wife Anna successfully relocated their family 2,500 miles west for a better life in the mining town Roslyn, Washington.

His story wouldn’t be stopped by three months of federal incarceration for a questionable offense. Jessee’s legacy carries on today through the hundreds of Donaldson descendants in Washington state, California, Texas, Ohio, and beyond.

In analyzing Jessee’s photo taken 120 years ago, you’ll note his strong jawline and mustache befitting a man at the turn of the twentieth century. His eyes engage the camera with blurred version, one eye wounded from war, the other looking directly to the camera. Perhaps he realized that this three-month stint served at McNeil Island, charged, and convicted for “selling liquor to an Indian,” would only be a minor setback. His journey was paused, but he wouldn’t be stopped for long.

“He was arrested for selling to family!” great great granddaughter Lenora Bentley declared, alluding to the fact that the Donaldsons are a multiracial family comprised of a skin shade spectrum since at least the 1800’s.

Descendants (L-R) Greg Smith, Al "Butch" Smith, Ryan Anthony Donaldson, and Raymond Donaldson at the National Archives at Seattle May 20, 2022 (photo courtesy of Ryan Anthony Donaldson)

Jessee’s great (times five) grandson, Ryan Anthony Donaldson, who works as an archivist, gazed upon Jessee’s image at the National Archives at Seattle for the first time this past May along with his father, Ray Donaldson, cousin Butch Smith, and Butch’s son Greg Smith, and can’t stop reflecting on the experience. To say he was moved is an understatement.

Ryan was notified of the image’s existence from Seattle historian, genealogist, and author Cynthia A. Wilson, who is designating a chapter of her upcoming book on United States Colored Troops to Jessee Donaldson’s legacy. Jessee joins 31 men that Ms. Wilson researched for her book. The four Donaldson men left the archives in awe to finally behold a verified photo of Jessee and that he will be featured in Ms. Wilson’s book.

For years they’d thought that Jessee was another man, identified in an early family photograph. They were astonished to realize Jessee appeared different than the man whose face they’d come to see as their patriarch.

As elusive as his likeness might be until now, details of Jessee’s journey are recorded so that his descendants might know and remember the steep price he paid for his freedom and their own.

The Donaldsons also draw awareness to the fact that they share many white relatives tracing back to the Revolutionary War, but they look to Jessee as their biracial forefather with good reason. That said, more than a few of Jessee’s kin express interest in knowing and meeting more of their white side “as long as we take care of the Black side first.”

The Donaldson Odyssey: Footsteps to Freedom

It was the mid 1980’s, one of Jessee’s descendants, Lillian “Babe” (Donaldson) Warren ventured to the coal mining town of Roslyn, Washington with her husband, Robert Williams, for the first time.

While there, she found herself walking the strangely familiar terrain her Donaldson descendants had trod 100 years before.

She started letting her imagination take flight. What must their lives have been like? What were their struggles? Their triumphs? Their unique experiences? What could she uncover about their stories as one large family within the Pacific Northwest Black Pioneers community?

Grave marker for Jessee Donaldson (March 1846-November 19, 1913). Private in the US Colored Infantry. Mount Olivet section. Roslyn Cemeteries. Photo taken May 29, 2021. (Photo courtesy of Deanna Donaldson Burns)

Babe went to spoken-of haunts: everywhere from the Ronald #3 mine where her ancestors worked to the Mt. Olivet Cemetery where Jessee, his son Thad, daughter Rusia, and grandson Roy are buried. There was so much history written in Roslyn’s soil, and the fact that her loved ones were part of it was a story that bore telling.

“I realized that history had been made here,” she wrote in her introduction to The Donaldson Odyssey: Footsteps to Freedom. “My family had worked here and was part of that history and the history of Roslyn, Washington. I felt tears beginning to fill my eyes.”

The fruits of her labors became known as The Red Book in honor of its striking red cover. Babe shared the book with her extended family and gifted a copy to the Roslyn Historical Museum for those interested in a more in-depth analysis of the family trees and reflections on the Donaldson family lines.

“The Red Book is pivotal. It was written 30 years ago with what resources Lillian had available,” Butch said of his relative’s dedication. “She did a magnificent job collecting the documentation for such comprehensive research. She really set in motion forthcoming research our family would like to do on our heritage.”

What’s substantial beyond Babe’s devotion to publishing a 300+ page family anthology is that she did so before the convenience of digitized records available online. Babe and a few loved ones, including her cousin, Lenora Bentley, rolled up their sleeves and made the phone calls, sought the records, booked plane tickets to Tennessee, and asked the questions that collectively provided them with a strong foundation of family knowledge.

Lenora recalls Babe generating financial support for the project through creating and selling t-shirts at family reunions with a book title that could be the family’s mission statement: The Donaldson Odyssey: Footsteps to Freedom.

Karla Jackson, Jessee’s great-granddaughter said that although she hasn’t reread The Donaldson Odyssey in quite some time, “I’m [still] in awe of The Red Book.”

Babe’s daughter, Tia Forest, was in her twenties when her mother took up the substantial task of researching the family’s past. She recalls going to the archives with her mother a few times and says of the experience, “She didn’t want to sugarcoat the past. We still have people finding out they are Donaldsons. We’re a very diverse family, and a lot of us don’t look Black. You never really know what [ethnicity/race] people are.”

Tia said that her mother’s refusal to deny her African American ancestry left a lasting impression when she was a little girl. “She told me ‘Don’t ever pass for what you’re not.’” Babe fought three days to change Tia’s ethnicity to “Negro” from “White” on her birth certificate. “To this day, I put ‘Black’ on medical records. When people assume I’m Caucasian, I correct them,” Tia said.

Tia, who is often asked if she’s Creole or Redbone in the clubs she sings in, says that she doesn’t mind people’s inquisitive natures. If they’re really interested, “I’ll sit them down. My mother taught me to never cut a pass, and I don’t. I’ve never allowed people to make racial slurs in my house. I automatically accept people for what they are.”

Tia credits her mother for being a woman of honesty and kindness. “She was a sweetheart and a beauty, but you better not cross her.”

Babe undoubtedly drew on some of the Donaldson steadfastness to see the anthology through to completion, and her relatives are especially grateful some 30 years later.

“Babe laid an incredible framework, and we are honored to be filling in the gaps today,” said Ryan of his continued quest to bring the Donaldson story to light. He’s come to experience the exploration of the past as a “guided journey,” as he follows in Babe’s footsteps and compares stories with other Washington Black pioneer families. Babe said she had a “powerful urge to know more about this family,” and Ryan knows exactly what she’s talking about.

Turns out that Babe faced resistance on her quest to uncover Donaldson family history. Her cousin Lenora said, “When she went down south, she was told not to dig too deep into the past. I don’t know who it was that threatened her in Tennessee. But let’s face it, some of our [white] ancestors didn’t want to bring up the past or know how bad it truly was.”

“I want to continue and pick up where [Aunt] Babe left off,” said Paula Terrell, Lenora’s daughter. “I was close to my aunt and mother when they were working on it, and it’s connected hundreds, if not thousands of us together.”

Paula said that the pervasiveness of the Donaldson presence in Washington state has sometimes meant learning that people she knew as co-workers or friends are, in fact, family members. For instance, she worked with Al Smith, Butch’s father, back in the 1980’s, left on a Friday, saw him at a family reunion over the weekend, and came back to work on Monday calling him “Uncle Al.”

“Because of that book, I realize the importance of knowing your family,” Paula said with conviction. “There’s pride in knowing where you come from. It adds value to each and every one of us.”

No matter who discouraged her discoveries, Babe remained steadfast to further uncover her family’s story. She wasn’t interested in what any naysayers tried to do to derail her efforts and spent countless hours compiling information on relatives across the family trees.

As a result, hundreds of descendants know who their family patriarch was and at least some of the trials Jessee and Anna weathered to provide them a future of hope and freedom. The family understands this rare gift, compared to fellow African American families who lack such detail about their descendants’ lives.

Ryan discovered an earlier edition of The Donaldson Odyssey within the preserved lectern from the AME (African Methodist Episcopal) Church at the Roslyn Historical Museum little more than a year ago. This edition includes photos and information that today’s Donaldsons are uncovering for the first time.

Considering how new connections are made all the time from The Donaldson Odyssey, the family narrative remains an evergreen wellspring of insights.

To anyone who sits down to read it, its pages outline an incredible journey from an Alabama plantation to postbellum Tennessee then coal mining company towns in Washington state.

Across generations, the Donaldsons are still finding themselves amidst significant phases of national and local history. This coming Saturday, August 13, members of the family anticipate attending the Roslyn Black Pioneer Picnic. They look forward to connecting with other descendants of the courageous African American men and women who arrived west by train many years ago.

"I Knew From Day One": Remembering Rear Admiral Herb Bridge

Announcing the release of the Washington Jewish Museum digital exhibit and opening

of MOHAI's Rear Admiral Herb Bridge Welcome Hall

Title screen for “I Knew From Day One”: Remembering Rear Admiral Herb Bridge

Washington Jewish Museum digital exhibit.

I Knew From Day One brings together oral histories, photographs, and most vividly,

digitized Bridge family home movies, providing a glimpse of Herb Bridge’s enormous

impact, leadership, and inspiration, together with his wife Shirley and generations of the

Bridge family.

About Herb and Shirley Bridge

Herbert “Herb” Marvin Bridge (March 14, 1925 - April 2, 2018) was born in Seattle,

Washington, the first child of Benjamin “Ben” and Sally (Silverman) Bridge. In 1948,

Herb married Shirley Selesnick and raised a family, introducing his two sons to the

jewelry business that spanned both branches of the family tree.

For six decades, Herb and Shirley were active civic leaders and philanthropists – driven

to action with a desire to heal, improve, and repair what is wrong.

I Knew From Day One explores the following themes:

● The Bridge family’s immigration to the U.S. from Poland and Russia

● Herb Bridge’s Navy years and military career

● Herb Bridge’s marriage and six-decade partnership with Shirley (Selesnick)

Bridge and raising their children

● Ben Bridge Jeweler, a family business

● Advocacy for downtown Seattle and local community leadership

● Tradition of tikkun olam - “Repair of the world”

The exhibit includes materials from the Bridge family; Washington State Jewish

Archives, University of Washington Libraries, Special Collections; Seattle Public

Schools Archives; Museum of History & Industry (MOHAI); and the National Museum of

American History, Smithsonian Institution.

The exhibit can be viewed online with the Washington Jewish Museum (WJM) and can

be seen along with the new interpretation area at MOHAI, 860 Terry Avenue N, Seattle.

The WJM exhibit curators were Ryan Anthony Donaldson and Jennie Diaz.

Special thanks to the Bridge family for their generous support of this exhibit.

Jon Bridge and Leonard Garfield, Executive Director, MOHAI, from the opening

reception. MOHAI is located at 860 Terry Avenue North in Seattle’s South Lake Union

neighborhood.

MOHAI Herb Bridge Welcome Hall Dedication

On October 17, 2021, 60 attendees gathered together to dedicate the new Herb Bridge

Welcome Hall at the Museum of History & Industry (MOHAI) at the Microsoft Lakefront

Pavilion.

Introductory remarks were made by Leonard Garfield, MOHAI Executive Director; Ryan

Anthony Donaldson, Washington State Jewish Archives Collections Strategy Manager &

Archivist; Jon Bridge, son of Herb and Shirley Bridge and MOHAI Board member; and

Maria Denny, President of the MOHAI Board of Trustees.

Following the remarks the Bridge family cut the ribbon, officially opening the Welcome

Hall to the public for the first time. The Welcome Hall is accessible on the right-hand

side just past the main entrance doors to the museum.

The Museum of History and Industry (MOHAI) Rear Admiral Herb Bridge Welcome Hall

launched with a dedication event on Sunday, October 17th. The Welcome Hall, which is

immediately accessible beyond the front entrance doors on the right, (pictured above

during the ribbon cutting ceremony) includes new interpretive panels and an orientation

video that complements the WSJHS digital exhibit.

From left: Leonard Garfield, MOHAI Executive Director, with Ryan Anthony Donaldson,

exhibit co-curator and Washington State Jewish Archives Collections Strategy Manager

and Archivist.

Rear Admiral Herb Bridge Welcome Hall exhibit on display at MOHAI. The two panels

pictured include “Naval Officer, Merchant, Philanthropist” and “The Naval Reserve

Armory.” The Welcome Hall is accessible on the right-hand side just past the main

entrance doors to the museum.

Pictured above, the Rear Admiral Herb Bridge Welcome Hall orientation touchscreen

video alongside the QR code linking visitors to the Washington Jewish Museum

digital exhibit.

Cayton-Revels House - Landmark Nomination Approved!

On February 17, 2021, the Seattle Landmarks Preservation Board considered the nomination for the Cayton-Revels House. Below is the testimony I provided:

********

I’m here to voice support for the Seattle landmarks designation for the Cayton-Revels House at 518 14th Avenue East.

In reviewing the landmark nomination criteria, there are 4 this property meets:

• 1. “It is associated in a significant way with the life of a person important in the history of the city, state, or nation.”

• 2. “It is associated in a significant way with a significant aspect of the cultural, political, or economic heritage of the community, city, state or nation.”

• 3. “It is the location of or is associated in a significant way with an historic event with a significant effect upon the community, city, state, or nation.”

• 4. “It embodies the distinctive visible characteristics of an architectural style, period, or a method of construction.”

As noted by Dr. Quintard Taylor the Caytons were “the most prominent African American couple in the Pacific Northwest by 1900.”

Horace and Susie with their children Ruth, Madge, , Horace Jr., and Revels, resided at 518 14th Avenue East in Seattle’s Capitol Hill neighborhood for approximately 10 years. 

Horace and Susie launched the Seattle Republican newspaper. At its height, the newspaper had the second-largest circulation in the city, ceasing publication in 1913 and later followed up by Cayton’s Weekly.  The Cayton’s body of work encompasses 15 years of reporting on virtually every single significant local event, including the 1909 Alaska-Yukon Pacific Exposition.

 Virulent racial discrimination culminated in the Caytons being displaced from the house. Despite facing these enormous challenges, Horace and Susie traveled over 2,000 miles from Mississippi seeking a better life. They bettered the lives of many, connecting Black American communities together through their writings and political, social and civic activities, achievements, and overall contributions, encouraging discourse and debate. 

As extensively detailed in the nomination, the Cayton-Revels house reflects the Queen Anne style with Victorian details.

Over a hundred years after it was constructed, the house has been minimally impacted by substantial renovations. Current property owners Erie Jones and Kathleen Jo Ackerman were kind enough to provide a tour. 

Many of the historic details are visible, with the property well-maintained.

The Cayton-Revels House is truly a rarity, a fully intact Victorian era home vividly demonstrating the Black American presence in Seattle. 

This landmark recognition is necessary to preserve the building in a neighborhood whose character is rapidly changing with new construction. 

Thank you.

********

Washington State Jewish Archives Featured on KING 5

On Tuesday, September 8th, the Washington State Jewish Archives was featured on KING 5 Evening Magazine. The Washington State Jewish Archives is a collaboration between the Washington State Jewish Historical Society and the University of Washington Special Collections. Ryan Anthony Donaldson, Collections Strategy Manager and Archivist, was interviewed along with WSJHS Executive Director Lisa Kranseler. The segment can be viewed online.

Screenshot from KING 5 Evening broadcast. Courtesy KING 5.

Stimson-Green Carriage House Lives On As Birch Road Cellar

This article was initially published on the Historic Seattle website.

Collectively I’d walked by the Stimson-Green Carriage House hundreds of times, never stepping foot inside. The neighboring namesake mansion’s signature English Tudor Revival-style high-pitched roof, pronounced chimneys, dramatic gables, stained glass windows, and half-timbering overshadowed the smaller matching carriage house tucked behind it. Scaling up and down First Hill for my high school commute to O’Dea, the building blended in with the more substantial landmark next door.

As a teenager in 1990s Seattle, there was little chance of getting a peek inside the imposing mansion or carriage house unless you were invited to a wedding or special event. Located at the corner of Minor Avenue and Seneca Street, the mansion served as home to lumber magnate C.D. (Charles Douglas) Stimson’s family at the turn of the century when First Hill was known as an exclusive enclave for the city’s “first families.” The crest of the hill where the Stimson-Green Mansion stands was in the company of over 40 prominent homes that dominated the steep slope, including the Dearborn House (1907, Historic Seattle’s home today) and the W.D. Hofius House (1902, until recently the home of the Roman Catholic Archbishop).

A hundred years prior, the multitude of mansions lining First Hill were the result of fortunes made from timber resources, real estate, and other emerging industries, which led to the commissioning and creation of fashionable residences in a variety of eclectic architectural styles. As noted on a period postcard, First Hill was known as Seattle’s “[f]ine residence section” offering widescreen views of Elliott Bay and within walking distance from Seattle’s bustling downtown. A public exhibit, “The First Hill Exhibit: Seattle’s Boom Years, 1880-1925,” permanently on display in Swedish Hospital’s lobby at the corner of Boren Avenue and Madison Street (incidentally also the site of the former 1884 Carkeek Mansion), vividly illustrates what the neighborhood was like, replete with cable cars and ornate residential architecture.

Panorama of First Hill, n.d. University of Washington Libraries, Special Collections, SEA1910.

Stimson himself had come to Seattle in 1888, drawn by the abundant natural timber resources that had already been depleted in Michigan where his father had first attained the family’s legacy in lumber milling businesses in the mid-nineteenth century. Setting up operations in Ballard to take advantage of the increased demand for lumber after the Great Seattle Fire of 1889, Stimson quickly came to city prominence, also serving as director of the Metropolitan Building Company, Metropolitan Bank, General Insurance Company of America, and the Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition. It took two years for Spokane-based architect Kirtland Cutter to complete the building, which the family moved into in 1901. Stimson, his wife Harriet Overton Stimson and their two children Thomas Stimson and Dorothy Stimson Bullitt, began living in the stately residence before any landscaping or tree cover, the land having only recently been cleared of its original growth Douglas fir trees.

Stimson’s mansion included a two-story standalone carriage house just north of the main estate, a common form of outbuilding purpose-built for horses and carriage equipment. In one particular historic photo, we can see Stimson’s young daughter Dorothy with her pony, Doctor, on Minor Avenue.

Dorothy Stimson Bullitt on her pony cart with Doctor. Courtesy the Washington Trust for Historic Preservation

Later, when horses gave way to automobiles, the Stimsons expanded the carriage house to its present 2,000 square foot size for their fleet. “Doctor had one corner [of the carriage house] and a little red Autocar (model 1900) had another,” recalled Dorothy. “Over the ensuing years, the car models changed, but not the pony. We had a cow, too. There’s a little back door in the garage that opens onto the alley and that’s where the cow lived.” 1

C.D. Stimson (on far left) greets an unidentified group in front of his carriage house, ca. 1910. Image courtesy Washington Trust for Historic Preservation.

In 1915, a year after the Stimson family moved to a larger home in The Highlands, Joshua and Laura (Turner) Green acquired the property. Joshua Green’s business was in the steamboat and ferry industry, which evolved into the Washington State Ferry System. What is remarkable was how little of the mansion and carriage house was changed or altered during the Greens’ 60 years of ownership. In contrast, the surrounding neighborhood was quickly transforming. Apartment buildings and medical facilities rapidly replaced the mansions as the “first” families moved away. For the Greens’ carriage house, rather than be torn down or radically remodeled as was the fate of other carriage homes, the building remained as an automobile garage, even retaining its original back alley door, though the cow was long gone.

View of the carriage house in 1969 which includes a car facing out from the garage door. Image courtesy Seattle Municipal Archives, Identifier: 78250.

In 1975, following Joshua Green’s death at 105 years old, the Historic Seattle Preservation and Development Authority purchased the property, which included both the mansion and the adjoining carriage house. The site was then acquired by Priscilla (Patsy) Collins (C.D. and Harriet Stimson’s granddaughter), and the mansion was reopened for the public to enjoy.2 No longer a private residence, mansion programming in the following years included behind-the-scenes tours, weddings catered by in-house staff, theatre performances, and other special events. In the late 1970s, the carriage house was converted to offices and housed a series of tenants, including the Bullitt Foundation – the nonprofit conservation organization founded by the adult Dorothy Stimson Bullitt.

Since 2001, the site has been owned and managed by the Washington Trust for Historic Preservation. In 2016, the Trust oversaw the carriage house’s renovation, which included polishing the concrete floors and exposing the open beam ceiling and brick walls. Soon thereafter, the Chicago-based Birch Road Cellar leased the carriage house with a vision to build community through providing space for members to entertain guests outside of their homes, securely store spirits and wine in a climate-controlled cellar in a self-service environment, as well as utilize co-working space (members pay a monthly fee for the opportunity to work and host guests in the well-appointed space). Opened in May 2019, the major tenant improvements to the carriage house transformed the raw space into the stunning interiors that can be seen today.

View of remodeled self-service bar. Image courtesy Birch Road Cellar.

When I first heard about this new chapter for the carriage house, I happened to be seeking a new co-working space and quickly scheduled a visit. Several decades after those walks past the landmark in my high school days, I finally stepped foot inside. I was not disappointed: Upon walking in the door and being warmly greeted by co-founder Sharon Provins, I immediately knew this was the right place for me. I admired the historical elements and the adaptive reuse of the space, providing inspiration for my working environment. There was no question the building was once a carriage house. In the upstairs bathroom you can still see the hay door next to the toilet (don’t worry, the door is now welded shut).

After becoming a member and enjoying the space as if it were my own, what surprised me was how quickly I felt connected to the Birch Road community. I recall the photo of C.D. Stimson over 100 years ago, cigar in hand, sharing a mirthful moment with visitors outside in front of the carriage house – and it occurred to me that one of my favorite things was welcoming guests for the first time too. I was not expecting to make friends and form bonds with other members, but have since been delighted to meet both newcomers to the area (like the Stimsons once were) to those who had grown up in Seattle like myself. We all had something in common because we were drawn to the same storied space.

Upstairs meeting & dining room with view overlooking First Hill Park, currently under renovation. Reservations for the room can be made by members online. Image courtesy Birch Road Cellar.

As Washington State’s “Stay At Home, Stay Healthy” order remains in place, Birch Road Cellar will begin a pilot reopening program in June. To keep the members engaged, the club has offered virtual events, such as trivia nights, cooking classes and wine tastings, though I can’t wait to visit again in person. The Stimson-Green Mansion and Carriage House share the opportunity to be accessible to new audiences and to be recognized as places that matter, especially to those like myself who ventured by many times in the past and wondered what was inside. First Hill has other examples of creative collaborations that have helped to preserve the quality of our historic spaces, including the Museum of Museums, the Sorrento Hotel, and St. James Cathedral. It is a tradition that I hope will continue, as innovative partnerships between historical preservationists and private capital will become increasingly necessary approaches in the bid to honor and cherish our city’s past.

1. Jane Hatley, “Growing up in an early mansion,” The Seattle Times, September 21, 1975, pg. 133.

2. Heather MacIntosh, “Stimson-Green Mansion (1901) — Seattle’s First Hill Landmark,” HistoryLink (accessed May 17, 2020)

The First Hill Exhibit

A public exhibit, “The First Hill Exhibit: Seattle's Boom Years, 1880-1925,” permanently on display in Swedish Hospital’s lobby at the corner of Boren Avenue and Madison Street, vividly illustrates what the neighborhood was like, replete with wooden sidewalks, cable cars, and ornate residential architecture. The First Hill neighborhood served as an exclusive enclave for prominent Seattle families, including the Stimsons, Greens, Dearborns, and others. Apartment buildings and medical facilities replaced the mansions as the “first” families moved away in the first decades of the twentieth century.

Heritage Hallway at Pendleton Woolen Mills

Pendleton Woolen Mills logo. Courtesy Pendleton Woolen Mills.

Pendleton Woolen Mills (PWM) is an iconic American apparel brand headquartered in Portland, Oregon. With roots going back to 1863, the company remains a privately held, fifth-generation family-owned business.  Today, the company owns and operates 5 facilities, manages 75 retail and outlet stores, and offers online catalogs.

The PWM Archives was established in 1989 in consultation with The Winthrop Group as a private corporate archive. With over 30 years of formal collecting activities, the PWM Archives includes documentation of key product lines and significant business functions. Serving as a vital research hub, the PWM Archives provides inspiration for design and collaborations with other brands, and storytelling content to reinforce company values and connect with customers and other communities.

Heritage Hallway featuring a series of milestones. Image courtesy Ryan Anthony Donaldson.

A recent reimagining of PWM’s Heritage Hallway at its corporate offices in Portland provided an opportunity to vividly exhibit these key themes. Organized and updated by PWM Staff, the display includes a timeline with company milestones. The milestones are complemented with photos of family members and executive leadership, important factory sites, and events such as the Pendleton Round-Up; original sketch drawings and reproductions of advertisements; and PWM products featured in pop culture, from Beach Boys vinyl records to The Big Lebowski.

Heritage Hallway featuring a series of milestones. Image courtesy Ryan Anthony Donaldson.

PWM’s production process is also explained, which includes an interactive area to touch wool samples, and a history of PWM’s trade blankets, with a variety of examples from the PWM collections. In addition, there is a “Community and Connection” area that communicates customer stories, and PWM’s partnerships with the American Indian College Fund, Fisher House Foundation, Native American Rehabilitation Association, and the Wildland Firefighter Foundation, among others.

View of the “Community and Connection” section. Image courtesy Richard S. Hobbs.

The Heritage Hallway furthers one of the core objectives of the PWM Archives in raising the visibility of heritage assets and demonstrating the enduring value that the collections have for the business, family, customers, and larger community.

This article originally appeared in the Business Archives Quarterly Vol. 2, No. 1.

Leveraging Business Archives - Seattle Area Archivists Meeting

On February 21st an audience of nearly 50 gathered in the Economy Building at Pike Place Market on the Seattle waterfront to attend the Seattle Area Archivists Quarterly Meeting, “Leveraging Business Archives.”  Hosted by Seattle Folio, an independent member-supported library. the program began with welcoming remarks from Caroline Cumming, Folio’s Executive Director. Caroline outlined Folio’s programs, which include author readings, live music, and other public events, and introduced the speakers.

Caroline Cumming, Executive Director of Seattle Folio.

Following this, Ryan Anthony Donaldson, Senior Consultant at The Winthrop Group, provided a company overview, including Winthrop Founding Director Linda Edgerly’s work in the Pacific Northwest initiating the Weyerhaeuser Archives, among other client work. Ryan also discussed the variety of businesses that utilize archives and heritage programs to satisfy company goals and objectives, including consumer products, apparel and fashion (Levi Strauss & Co., PVH, Carhartt), healthcare (Virginia Mason), finance, food and beverage, and the architecture, engineering, and construction industry. To ensure success, business archivists need to foresee opportunities, creatively leverage heritage assets, build connections throughout an organization, engage communities, and determine how the archives can drive brand messages and express company values.

Richard S. Hobbs, Winthrop’s Senior Consulting Archivist & Historian.

Richard S. Hobbs, Winthrop’s Senior Consulting Archivist & Historian, underscored these insights and provided two brief case studies of business clients that have established private archives, including Laird Norton and Pendleton Woolen Mills. With seven generations of family leadership, Laird Norton began in forest products, and now is involved in real estate, private equity, and venture capital. Laird Norton’s archives program began officially in 1983, and includes books, documents, photographs, and audio-visual recordings. Richard contributes to publications and online content, conducts oral history interviews, and assists senior leadership with presentations and conferences, most notably for the annual Family Summit.  

Founded in 1909 and headquartered in Portland, Oregon, Pendleton Woolen Mills has six generations of family ownership. Winthrop helped establish the company’s archives in 1989. Archival assets are utilized for design inspiration, storytelling, and product partnerships with other companies and brands, such as Disney and Lucasfilm. Richard described further how these two corporate archives programs are closely aligned with an evolving identity spanning over a century, and the importance of adapting accordingly. 

Amy Stevenson, Archives Manager at Microsoft.

Amy Stevenson, Archives Manager at Microsoft, provided an engaging overview of the Microsoft Archives. Microsoft’s origins date back to 1975, and an archive was set up just over a decade later in 1986. Amy outlined the collections, which include computer hardware, artifacts, and digital content, such as Sharepoint sites and videos. The Microsoft Archives serves internal, external, and partner audiences. Serving this wide range of communities requires optimum reactivity, and Amy noted that the “heritage moment” can happen at any time. Therefore, a mix of foresight, preparedness, and flexibility is required to achieve maximum impact. Amy discussed some key initiatives, including supporting the Design Lounge at Build 2016, the Windows 95 Reunion in 2015, the Alumni and Employee Campus Commemoration in 2018, and the design of a new lobby in Microsoft’s Shanghai Office that includes heritage assets. 

The PowerPoint presentation deck can be viewed with the following link: http://bit.ly/leveragingbusinessarchives 

Thank you to Seattle Folio, Seattle Area Archivists, all the presenters, and everyone who could attend. 

Photographs courtesy Philippe Cloutier, Ryan Anthony Donaldson, and Richard S. Hobbs. 

ICA-SBA 2019: “Business Archives & the Next Gold Rush” Recap

This article first appeared in the Society of American Archivists Business Archives Section Quarterly (BASQ) Vol. 1 No. 4.

Attendees introduce themselves during the opening of the conference.

Over 100 participants from across the globe gathered in San Francisco, California, at the annual conference for the International Council on Archives (ICA) Section on Business Archives (SBA). The two-day program took place at the world headquarters of Levi Strauss & Co. with 36 presenters and over 120 people viewing the live webcast from Denmark, Germany, Ireland, Japan, Norway, UK, and the USA.

The first day included a keynote speech “Designing to Zero” delivered by Paul Dillinger, Levi Strauss & Co. Head of Global Product Innovation. Paul discussed how, in the span of 130 years, the garment form has not changed that much, emphasizing the consistency of Levi products. He discussed how the company purchases vintage Levi’s in the secondary market, then repairs them for resale, in opposition to “fast fashion” trends. Paul left the conference attendees feeling inspired, sharing Levi’s initiatives to measure the sustainable aspects of jean production in efforts to cut down on water usage and conserve natural resources, including the use of hemp as an alternative to cotton.

The first session, “Future Trends: New Models in Technology Business Archives,” focused on strategies and approaches archivists take to document company heritage in the technology sector, an industry primarily concerned with moving ahead and the future. Among the panelists were: Paula Jabloner and Stephanie Waslohn (Center for Cisco Heritage @ the Computer History Museum), Pennington Ahlstrand (Computer History Museum), and Michele Winn, (Archives Consultant & Project Manager).

The second session, “Gold Standards: Engaging Your Community,” looked to three examples of organizational archives, from performing arts to the food & beverage industries. In each example, creative methods to engage with a range of communities were implemented, from commemorating milestones to creating a hybrid archives storage/event space to implementing a mobile exhibit to engage staff and customers. The panelists included: Barbara Rominski (San Francisco Opera), Demelza van der Maas (Heineken Heritage Collection), and Martha Lawrence (Chick-fil-A, Inc.).

Tracey Panek introduces the panel for the third session.

The third session was an operational excellence activity with a panel that included Linda Edgerly (The Winthrop Group), Sarah Polirer (Cigna), and Tim Schantz (History Factory). After the panel took some time to define and characterize operational excellence, participants organized into groups to discuss methods for compiling milestones, organizational timelines, and tracking metrics, such as reference requests. The importance of aligning with senior leadership was highlighted, along with understanding your internal and external audiences. 

The fourth session, “Harnessing New Technology,” featured speakers representing the financial, automotive, and pharmaceutical industries that dovetailed with the prior group activity. Discussion topics included the importance of considering a range of factors prior to onboarding a new technology, as well as collecting data for measurement and evaluation that can be utilized graphically, which can be very helpful in justifying and building upon the technology investment. Additional considerations included how to harness your company’s corporate heritage site to become sources in Wikipedia, providing more accuracy and control in communicating your brand’s history. Speakers included Anne Hall (Federal Reserve Bank of San Francisco), Cat Saleeby McDowell (GSK Heritage), and Fred Jakobs (BMW AG).

The fifth and final session of day 1, “Gold Standards: Positioning Your Archives,” was set up as a discussion moderated by Anders Sjöman (Centre for Business History) and provided practical advice on how to make a positive and memorable impact within your institution. Among the takeaways were the importance of building a strong reputation within the company, managing expectations, gaining quick wins, aiming for organization-wide impact, and creatively searching throughout the org chart for collaborators, including the custodial staff. The panelists were Lovisa Severin Kragerud (The Absolut Company – Pernod Ricard), Paul Lasewicz, (McKinsey & Company), and Ted Ryan (Ford Motor Company).

Conference attendees at an exclusive tour of the exhibition space at the Society of California Pioneers in the San Francisco Presidio.

After the sessions ended, conference attendees were treated to an evening at the Society of California Pioneers in the San Francisco Presidio, providing an opportunity to hear from Society staff and have an exclusive look at the exhibit Her Side of the Story. 

Jamie Martin introduces keynote speaker Sandeep Gopisetty.

Day two of the conference opened with a keynote on the future of computing by Sandeep Gopisetty, Director of Enterprise AI, Systems & Solutions Research, and an IBM Research Distinguished Engineer, IBM Research – Almaden. Sandeep provided an illuminating history of artificial intelligence (AI), including IBM milestones such as the development of an AI system to play checkers in 1959. He emphasized how specialized AI can translate languages, transcribe speech, and provide visual recognition. Sandeep ended the keynote by suggesting some possibilities to engage with the hybrid cloud to support the work of archivists.

After the keynote, the sixth session, “Leveraging Data in Entertainment Archives,” discussed how archivists establish and optimize digital asset management systems in the context of film, television, and video game production. From extracting data to be cleaned up to migrating to a new DAM system, the panelists discussed some of the challenges and opportunities inherent to these activities, along with providing access to the content. Moderated by Sharon Dovas (Pixar Animation Studios), the panelists included Lauren Gaylord (Pixar Animation Studios), Tim Mapp, (Lucasfilm), Sharon Mizota (Walt Disney Animation Research Library), and Nikki Nguyen (Walt Disney Archives).

Aubrey Carrier from the Wells Fargo Corporate Archives describes the evolution of the company’s oral history program, which includes employees and customers.

As the title suggests, the seventh session, “Mix It Up,” incorporated a range of topics, covering oral history, heritage branding, audio-visual digitization, expediting processing methods and more. Among the panelists were Aubrey Carrier (Wells Fargo Corporate Archives), Carol Quinn (Irish Distillers – Pernod Ricard), Emily Cottle (Vanguard), Kiara King (The Ballast Trust), Paul Grippaldi (Digital Revolution), and Scott Grimwood (SSM Health).

As a way to look ahead, the eighth session, “The Future Trends in Business Archives Panel Discussion,” included forecasts of what to anticipate, from AI to shifts in gatekeepers and custodians of digital content. In all cases, comparing resources to your organization’s capabilities and roadmap is critical. Panelists included Franziska Eggimann (Georg Fischer Ltd and Iron Library Foundation), Glynn Edwards (Stanford University Libraries, Special Collections & Archives, ePADD), and Ryan Donegan (Heritage Werks).

The final session, “Gold Standards: Demonstrating Your Relevance,” examined three case studies on how corporate archives can become embedded within a company, from embarking on new programs such as an annual lecture series, collaborations with artists-in-residence, to capitalizing on relocating the archives for enhanced presence and creating pop-up and traveling exhibits. This session included Natalie Lorenz, (Swarovski), Vrunda Pathare (Godrej Archives), and Erin Narloch (Reebok Brand Archive).

Wrapping up the conference, attendees were invited to tour Wells Fargo’s flagship Museum and archives. The museum included exhibits and interactives that told the story of the company from the Gold Rush beginnings to Silicon Valley today, prominently featuring artifacts and reproductions from Wells Fargo’s archives.

Conference attendees enjoy a tour of the Wells Fargo Museum, as well as a visit to the Wells Fargo’s archives led by their corporate archives team.

If you were unable to join the conference, or if you attended and would like to review, full video of the conference proceedings is available at: https://levis.brand.live/business-archives-2019. Thank you to the conference planning committee, especially Tracey Panek, the event sponsors, and all the volunteers who organized an insightful, efficiently executed, and essential conference for the international business archives community.

All photographs courtesy Ryan Anthony Donaldson.

Who Are the Allies of Seattle’s History & Heritage?

Creative & collaborative approaches are necessary to preserve the quality of our historic spaces.

Flying from New York City to Seattle last October with my wife and our tuxedo cat, finally completing our cross-country relocation and marking 15 years since I last called the Emerald City home, I wondered who is tending to the future of Seattle’s past.  Who contributes to telling the world about the important stories of my hometown? 

During my time away, I developed an archive and heritage program for a leading New York City real estate company and was involved with a vibrant community of archivists focused on outreach. Through my work with The Durst Organization, I learned how visionary developers can bring about change that is informed and inspired by history, whether through helping establish the NYC Archaeological Repository or donating to Columbia University the Seymour B. Durst Old York Library, a collection spanning over four centuries of NYC history. 

Since 1973, the nonprofit Creative Time has commissioned and presented public art works in a wide variety of historic sites around New York City, many of them in a state of change, including Duke Riley’s Fly By Night at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, an homage to carrier pigeons.  The revitalization of Manhattan’s High Line transformed an abandoned elevated freight track into a lively park and public arts space. During a hard-hat tour of the site in 2008, I could scarcely imagine how the project would transform the area.  The High Line’s conversion reminded me of Gas Works Park, another popular re-imagined and regenerated industrial relic.

As we arrived in Seattle, many people were talking about the Showbox.  A coalition of preservation advocates banded together to successfully designate the site as a city landmark. Despite this achievement, the Landmarks law alone does not guarantee the building will continue to host music, especially as downtown density and increased housing remain priorities. 

Here’s where I imagine Paul Allen, coming to the rescue. As Knute Berger wrote about Allen, “[he] transformed his hometown yet he always seemed connected to that little bit of Dick’s Drive-in that resides in every local’s soul…. He saved the Cinerama movie theater - one wonders if he could have saved The Showbox, too.” In returning to Seattle, Allen’s legacy looms even larger. Just take a look at the evolution of the Experience Music Project, and establishment of the Seattle Art Fair and Living Computers Museum + Labs. For sports fans, who can forget his efforts to save the Seahawks? An exhibition  at the Seattle Art Museum showcases his collection of paintings and other artworks, underscoring his intention for these works to be accessible.

Now that Allen is no longer here to take the bold steps necessary to preserve the Showbox, which benefactors will step in? In the past few months I’ve been inspired by projects where businesses and nonprofits partner to attract resources and support and ultimately help us recognize Seattle’s past while moving forward. 

NHL Seattle has brought hockey back over 100 years since the Seattle Metropolitans won the Stanley Cup, the first American team to do so. During a recent Science and the City program, the Seattle Center Arena architects discussed incorporating community feedback that paid homage to the Seattle World’s Fair where the arena will be located. Their commitment to preserving the roof and other aspects of the 1962 Worlds Fair Pavilion at the new venue is laudable. 

We celebrated my wife’s birthday at Bothell’s Anderson School. Owned and managed by McMenamins, this Art Deco school has been converted into a hotel, restaurant, and event venue, with a restored pool. Past and present significant local figures from teachers to business leaders are recognized in each hotel room. The hotel is filled with artworks that are based on historical photos and documents. If you’d told me years ago I’d go to Bothell for a staycation, I would have said you were dreaming. Yet, there we were, engrossed.

Birch Road Cellars is a co-working space located in the Stimson Green Carriage House in First Hill and opened in May 2019. Built in 1901, the building is owned by the Washington Trust for Historic Preservation. Following a three-month renovation of the space led by the Chicago-based Birch Road Group, the house is available for members and guests to host meetings, store spirits and wine in a climate-controlled cellar, and gather together for social events. By including reversible interior elements, Birch Road retains original features, such as the hay door in the upstairs bathroom, along with amenities including a self-service bar, and a fingerprint ID security system. This adaptive reuse both generates membership and rental revenue while linking the visitor to the property’s past.

It’s clear that there are a number of organizations and companies that value local history. Encouraging examples like NHL Seattle, McMenamins, and Birch Road make one wonder about the Showbox’s future. How can Seattle’s music heritage continue to play on? I look forward to finding out.

Open House at Mithun Architects

On October 16th under intermittently rainy skies, visitors were welcomed to an open house at Mithun Architects as part of Washington State Archives Month (WSAM). Ryan Anthony Donaldson, Senior Consultant at The Winthrop Group and a member of the Archives Month Committee of Washington State, discussed how WSAM is an opportunity each October to engage a range of audiences about the value of the state’s historical records and heritage collections. These opportunities encompass government archives, museums, libraries, non-profits, and companies such as architecture, engineering, and construction firms.

Situated along the Seattle waterfront, Mithun’s offices are located in the Pier 56 building, originally built in 1902 by the Northern Pacific Railroad. As explained by Mithun Principal Ken Boyd during his insightful office tour, Mithun renovated the space in 2000 , paying close attention to the history of use in determining how to proceed. Windows were added to allow for more natural light with the ability to open and bring in breezes and supply ventilation naturally. He also explained the company’s plans to accommodate future growth and the flexible arrangements of the space.

Mithun Archivist Josh Myers provided further background on the building, with a presentation that outlined how the pier transformed from a maritime dock for ships to a warehouse for Trident Imports, and other tourism-focused enterprises including Ted Griffin’s Waterfront Aquarium, and briefly as a holding pen for Namu, a killer whale.

A pop-up exhibit curated by Mr. Myers included images of Pier 56, additional displays showcasing Mithun projects, as well as screening a documentary on the firm’s founder Omer Mithun.

Catherine Blake, Archives Manager, and Samantha Cross, Archivist, presented on their work with CallisonRTKL, describing how the company’s archives include photographs and other materials that are important reference sources for adaptive reuse projects. In their presentation, they outlined several examples, including the Space Needle Plaza; Nordstrom Flagship Store at 500 Pine Street (formerly Frederick & Nelson); renovation from retail use to office space at 300 Pine Street; (currently Macy’s building); and the transformation of the Fraternal Order of Eagles Auditorium building into the ACT Theatre.

Thank you to Mithun for hosting the event, the program presenters, and everyone who attended.

This article originally appeared on The Winthrop Group website.

"A Central District Landmark With A Legacy of Cultivating Community"

The article "A Central District landmark with a legacy of cultivating community" appeared in The Seattle Times "Now & Then" series. The landmark in question is the former Bikur Cholim synagogue that is today known as the Langston Hughes Cultural Arts Center. In the piece, a rare photo from the Washington State Jewish Historical Society collection is paired with the same shot taken today:

https://www.seattletimes.com/pacific-nw-magazine/0929-now-and-then/

As the article notes, the building was designed by one of America’s foremost theater designers, Benjamin Marcus Priteca. Quite prolific, “Priteca designed 22 theaters for [Alexander] Pantages and another 128 for other theater owners” (Wikipedia).

Local examples that have endured include the Coliseum in Downtown Seattle (though a Banana Republic retail store is there currently) and Tacoma’s Pantages Theatre.

Special thanks to Jean Sherrard and Clay Eals for bringing this important story to greater attention.

Microsoft Archives Tour

This week I had the pleasure of visiting the Microsoft Archives and was impressed with the commitment to documenting the company's history, including the evolution of the Redmond campus. The Visitors Center features some heritage displays that creatively leverage the collection and are open to the public. A highlight for me was to see a copy of the Callison 1980s campus concept plan and consider the reinvestment and expansion, including the light rail station coming in. Thank you to Amy Stevenson, Archives Manager, and the Microsoft Archives team for their hospitality.

Archives at the Mall: Northgate Edition

Acting upon a tip received that Northgate had some old photos displayed, I ventured to the mall a few weeks ago. It has been quite some time for me. In the 1990s, I nostalgically recall stopping by Mr. Rags for new clothes, checking out the video game arcade, and of course getting a drink at Orange Julius. With many storefronts currently closed, and the nearby light rail station to open in 2021, the site will be transformed and repositioned, including the NHL Ice Centre, serving as a practice facility for NHL Seattle and providing the community with a new skating rink.

In visiting the Simon Management Office, I was delighted to see over 10 large-scale framed collages that vividly capture the mall’s past. Photographs, news clippings, renderings, brochures, and other items illustrate the opening ceremonies from 1950, and important events & milestones over the years. For instance, did you know that the mall once hosted an 80 foot ski slope? Or hosted square dances, concerts, and fashion shows?

As the mall is reimagined into a multi-use facility with a radically redesigned retail footprint, I’m grateful for the Northgate Archives to provide a unique historical context. From looking at the displays, I am able to see how, 70 years ago, Northgate became an instant landmark as the first regional shopping center to be identified as a mall, a magnet of activity for shoppers, and a place for locals to spend time and share memories. I’m looking forward to seeing the next chapter, and connecting to the stories of the past!

Third Avenue Vision

Thrilled to share the Downtown Seattle Association "Third Avenue Vision" publication - working with a broad range of stakeholders & community members to envision transportation and civic improvement options for Third Avenue. The project provided a terrific opportunity to research and highlight the rich history of this area and importance to Seattle's development. Thank you to The Seattle Public Library, City of Seattle Municipal Archives, King County Archives, Seattle Public Schools Archives, University of Washington Libraries & Special Collections, Museum of History & Industry, & the estate of Max R. Jensen for working with me on this project to license & include historical images and verify timeline details. Special thanks as well to DSA's Jacqueline Gruber & Don Blakeney. More images here.

SAM History, Digitally Preserved

Last month’s "SAM History, Digitally Preserved" program included rare & astonishing glimpses into the institutional history of the Seattle Art Museum. A 4Culture Collections Care grant from provided critical resources to reformat home movies, local broadcasts, artist lectures, performances, and more. My personal highlight was seeing some installation footage of Isamu Noguchi's "Black Hole Sun" at Volunteer Park. Thank you Traci Timmons, Hannah Palin, Marie Williams Chant, Moving Image Preservation of Puget Sound (MIPoPS), and UW Special Collections. More info: bit.ly/SAMHistory.

Q+A session following the screening of the films.