Me-Kwa-Mooks Park history revealed
Tue, 10/16/2007
By Steve Shay
German immigrants Ferdinand and Emma Schmitz completed their 40-acre, 17-room West Seattle estate in 1904. Although they named it "Sans-Souci," French for "without care," it proved too much for their children to care for. In 1967 they tore it down, and established Me-Kwa-Mooks Park in its place.
On Oct. 7 a commemorative sign was unveiled to celebrate the park's history, both geological and manmade. The sign stands on the far end of the open field east of the Beach Drive entrance, just north of Southwest Oregon Street. Eleven acres of the original 40-acre estate comprise the Emma Schmitz Memorial Overlook across the street and along the shore. That left 29 acres for Me-Kwa-Mooks. Over five additional acres were added through the years, including the hard-fought Nelson Addition, a battle that began in 1999.
That land was finally rescued from a housing project in 2001 by a corps of neighborhood activists including the late Susie King. Her gang of preservationists raised money for legal fees. After she passed away, they raised additional funds for the Seattle Parks Foundation to install a bench across the park in King's honor. With $2,000 left over they decided to build the commemorative sign.
Former landowners Jim and Patsy Nelson joined the Alki Community Council, Seattle Parks and Recreation, and the Southwest Historical Society to facilitate the Nelson Addition.
Chris King said that the Nelson Addition had been annexed and was slated for development.
"Susie held several garage sales and went door-to-door to pay the lawyers to fight the development," recalled Chris of his late wife. "Today feels great. She would have been very pleased."
Southwest Seattle Historical Society's Judy Bentley, an area resident, helped organize the effort. In her speech at the sign's unveiling she said, "This is much more than a sign to enhance the park. It shows you the mysteries, pleasures and surprises here. The sign honors five layers of history."
The sign includes five sepia toned black and white photos that guide us through the history of the park, from the area's 700 Lashootseed-speaking Native Americans to the Nelson Addition along Southwest Jacobsen Road, 150 years later.
Bentley pointed out that the vulnerable terrain, soil, and springs makes the scenic land best used as a park. She and other West Seattle historians reject the popular story behind the park's unusual name. Officially, on city websites, Me-Kwa-Mooks means "shaped like a bears head" in the Nisqually dialect.
"We believe the name actually means 'prairie point' and comes from the Lashootseed-speaking people," she said.
Alix Pye continued Susie King's work when she died. Pye said she felt like Alice in Wonderland.
"I'm always stepping in a hole because I'm so curious. I've lived here 40 years, and step in so many holes I wonder how am I going to get out of this mess. Luckily, here, many people have helped. It is like a jigsaw puzzle and we all do a little part," she said.
Alex Schmitz, grandson of Ferdinand and Emma, and son of Dietrich, gave the sign presentation a personal touch.
"One hundred years ago this January my grandparents gave Schmitz Park. Then Emma gave the waterfront park. Later, my father gave this."
Dietrich became the chairman of Washington Mutual Savings Bank, and served 31 years as a member of the Seattle School Board, and as its president eight times.
"My grandfather chose to move here because it had a big stream used for drinking water and to raise crops." The stream is now mostly underground.
Ferdinand owned the Butler Hotel downtown, which Schmitz described as "the finest hotel in Seattle at the turn of the century. It was full every night due to the Alaska gold rush."
Schmitz said he "grew up" in the mansion, and enjoyed playing pool on the second floor. To be precise, he grew up in another house on the estate, as did his father's three siblings, including his uncle Henry, who was president of the University of Washington from 1952-1958.
Schmitz recalled his father trying to persuade him and his friends to move into Sans-Souci in 1967 to rescue the house.
"He wanted me to pay some rent," Alex recalled, adding that he had his own ideas and rejected the offer. "In hindsight I wish I had stayed."
Steve Shay may be contacted at steves@robinsonnews.co