Sometime in the early 1900s, my father and his small family moved from Indiana to the West Coast and soon settled in Seattle. There he began his career in the Seattle Parks Departments, working in Woodland Park helping to develop the rose garden there. Soon he was transferred to take care of Hiawatha Park in West Seattle and moved his family into a small house in the park, facing Walnut Avenue. Due to the family expanding, the house became too small and we moved over to 39th until 1922, when the family was moved again - this time to Lincoln Park.

Then my father's job included all of Lincoln Park and most of the other West Seattle parks, as well. The city had purchased a strip of land along the north end of Lincoln Park from a schoolteacher who lived in a house she owned on that strip of land. The arrangement was for my father to buy the house and move the family into it. So we became the owners of the house, not the property owned now by the Seattle Parks Department.

Soon my father had the surrounding area landscaped and the house became the center of a large yard with flowerbeds, vegetable gardens, even a chicken coop. The yard had, also, a cozy, little playhouse and, later, a "summer house" was added for outdoor picnics. My parents began to be hosts to many people who came by to visit the large pool and rockery my father had built near the house. With my mother's help, he had developed the rockery behind the pool with a miniature waterfall and many rare plans collected by my parents. On Sundays, during spring and summer months, many people walked through this part of the yard to see the yard, the pool, and the rockery.

When my father retired, the house and yard remained for some time, but, eventually, were removed and all that remained was a building built in the 1930's for use in the park's maintenance. Ours was the last house in Lincoln Park. Earlier, two other houses were removed - one in the center of the park near the beach and another, used for some time by my father's helper at the south end of the park.

When we moved to Lincoln Park, the forest was thick and had reached quite close to the house. During the great windstorm that occurred during the 1930's about half of the trees had blown down and a crew of workers was required to clear the entire area of 100 acres. The WPA (Works Progress Administration), organized at that time, did the job.

Being born in a park and living a childhood in a park was an experience few children might have. Unfortunately, now there may not be many families who have that privilege. I am still, at 90 years old, cherishing the memories - the many picnics, celebrations and gatherings.

Also, I often think of the few suicides of those never to be forgotten days when the park became the place where one made use of whatever way hey want to experience it. I still remember what my father called, one area - "the most beautiful spot on earth."

Harriet Warkentine

Genesee