In a neighborhood that prides itself on its history, Ballard Hospital stands out. Built during the no-nonsense Eisenhower era, the building looks something like a five story concrete block; the kind of thing that might withstand an atomic blast.

If you think that sounds far fetched, consider that a pamphlet circulated in 1952 to raise funds for what would become this hospital, pointed out that the Russians had recently detonated their own atomic bomb and that if the commies destroyed bridges across the Lake Washington Ship Canal, how could Ballard residents get to hospitals? The community needed its own hospital and that kind of insurance was worth a small donation.

Today, some residents still worry about the possibility of being separated from downtown in the event that a disaster knocked out our ability to cross the canal, though current cataclysmic vogue is that an earthquake, not Ballard-Bridge-sized nuclear explosions, would cause the trouble.

But one less thing to worry about in such a scenario is our access to emergency care. Ballard has its own hospital, thanks to the foresight and efforts of those who came before us.

Ballard's first hospital officially opened on Monday, March 12, 1928, as the Ballard Accident and General Hospital, on the third floor of the Eagles Building on Northwest Market Street.

The hospital had a network of 12 local doctors and a staff of three nurses, with space for about 30 patients. There were no elevators and people had to be carried up three flights of stairs at times, but it was better than Ballard's wounded ending up on the couch at a doctor's house.

The hospital began as a private corporation but reorganized into a non-profit organization in 1937. At around the same time, the board of trustees had a vision of a new hospital for the community. After World War II, a congressional act authorized the government to pay as much as 40 percent of the cost of building new hospitals. Washington State's allocation of the government benefit allowed for only one hospital to be built in the state and hospital trustees planned to make sure that hospital would be built in Ballard.

The budget for Ballard's proposed new hospital was $1.6 million, meaning trustees would have to come up with about $900,000 to combine with federal funds.

Fundraising began in 1949 and a suitable location was deemed to be 5300 Tallman Ave. N.W., at the site of what was once the old Ballard High School, before it was rebuilt on Northwest 65th Street.

In the spring of 1952 during continuing fundraising, the trustees received a letter from the state department declaring that the congressional funds for building a hospital needed to be allocated by June 30, at the end of the fiscal year. The trustees needed to come up with another $250,000 in just three months for their portion of the hospital, so the fund raising committee launched the Knuckle Knockers campaign which went door to door from April until July and included some 300 people from all parts of Ballard. Knuckle Knockers worked alone or in groups and about 35 people would be out knocking on doors, soliciting the Ballard community for funds each night.

Lanny Turay, the former Ballard Hospital director of pharmacy, remembers his uncle, Dr. Edward Palmason and his wife Vivienne, knuckle knocking.

"Like all the physicians in the community back then, they were close and it really did have a community image because of the fundraising," Turay said. "It made them in essence part owners. It was their sweat equity that got it built."

Art Olsen, co-owner of Olsen Furniture, remembers his mother and father, Harold and Vera, spending their energies on the hospital fundraising when not attending to the family business. His mother was a member of the hospital foundation until she died.

Olsen thinks the community spirit wasn't confined to the hospital. He sees it as a Ballard thing.

"Take a look at what's happening with raising money at Ballard High School," he said. "It's the envy of all the other schools. I think Ballard people who grow up here have a lot of pride about that."

The Knuckle Knockers collected more than $250,000 in pledges by the end of June. An array of other ideas to raise money contributed to the successful effort including some that might be hard to imagine today.

One idea had Ballard doctors calling patients in the middle of the night asking them to come down to the old hospital for a bogus emergency and then asking the bewildered patients for donations when they arrived.

But they got the job done. It was an investment in the future that is still paying dividends, not least by giving Ballardites a little peace of mind when they think about the potential for 10 years of construction on the Alaskan Way Viaduct.

"What's so powerful about Ballard is we have so many survivors of the group that built the hospital," said Eddy Harrison, whose son continues the tradition, one of 200 active volunteers at Ballard Hospital today.

"They remember the sacrifices it took to build that hospital."

Steve Clark may be reached via bnteditor@robinsonnews.com