Former coal-mining town sees green in its future

By DEBERA CARLTON HARRELL
SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER REPORTER

On a recent autumn afternoon, sun flamed past a cluster of new homes, glazing maple leaves crimson and gold along a country road in what was once the heart of the Puget Sound region's coal country. Horses grazed among orchard trees in a pastoral roadside strip of historical land owned by Pam and Gary Lee.

The original town of Newcastle, named after the English coal-mining city, stood here in the late 1800s, complete with post office and steepled church. A coal miner's house on the Lees' property has been designated a historical landmark, the oldest building in King County still on its original foundation.

An old tipple, which graded, sorted and washed coal, and a mesh-covered mining shaft estimated to be about 1,000 feet deep are remnants of a once-booming industry.

In its heyday, from the discovery of coal in 1863 to 1880, Newcastle had about 700 people. Its prosperity helped build Seattle as a port; coal was transported first by wagon then by a tram-like railway over Newport Hills to Lake Washington. It was then barged to Elliott Bay, where it was loaded onto ships mostly bound for San Francisco.

Mining continued until 1963, eclipsed by fossil fuels as energy sources.

But while the Lees' doorstep opens to the past, it also faces the future.

Directly behind their house, up a hill, lie the lush greens of a new, world-class golf course.

The Golf Club at Newcastle, developed by former Microsoft executive Scott Oki, is the talk of Newport Hills. Once an unregulated garbage dump suspected of releasing methane fumes and later a Rabanco-owned construction landfill, the site has been completely (and many locals say mercifully) transformed into a magical domain dubbed "awesome" by local teens and old-timers alike.

Until recently, the 350-acre site was a barren, dirt-brown hilltop viewable from as far away as the Evergreen Point Bridge and the Bainbridge ferry. Now it boasts a stunning view of mountains and Lake Washington. Pam Lee predicts the expensive public-private golf club will put Newcastle on the map.

The intimidating 36-hole course was designed by highly respected Robert Cupp with strategic input from local golf star Fred Couples. The first course, scheduled to open April 1, 1999, features sculptured, roller-coaster hillocks and looming water hazards.

The splendid clubhouse, combining Northwest/Salish Lodge style with Versailles grandeur, will feature a "destination" restaurant and 400-guest banquet-ballroom-conference facilities that have already prompted a graduation party inquiry from Newport High School seniors.

With public greens fees at $100 a pop and memberships at $5,000 a year (plus monthly fees), locals aren't sure how "public" the course will be. Many wonder how already-congested streets will handle expected busloads of Japanese golfers or throngs of viewers for a PGA tour date sought by developers.

Pam Lee echoed the sentiments of other Newport Hills and Newcastle residents in lauding the classy beauty of the club while taking a wait-and-see approach to its effect.

"Nobody really knows where Newcastle is, but they will when the golf course gets going," Lee says. "It will generate tax monies, but it will be a community definer rather than a community builder."

Some people, like Milt Swanson, are trying to mine the past -- and community spirit -- so locals won't forget where they came from.

The 80-year-old Swanson, co-chair with Lee of the Newcastle Historical Society, built a shed on his own property with antiques and vestiges of the coal-mining era. An old coal car sits in front of his house, and he still gives pre-arranged tours to youth groups.

Swanson, who lives on property inhabited by the "new" town of Newcastle when the Pacific Coast Coal Co. relocated its operations in 1922, worked the Newcastle coal mines as a mechanic. By 1948, he was making a hefty $13 a day, up from the $2.75 a day a mining foreman made in 1901.

He remembers when local farmers would bring fresh fruit and milk in 5-gallon cans by wagon to the coal miners and when "going to town" meant getting on a train to Seattle.

"There have been a lot of changes," Swanson says, chuckling. "All the new wealth, it doesn't bother me but it doesn't impress me, either. They're worried about buying new computers or cars or paying off their credit cards.

"I've been happy here. I can't think of a place I'd rather be."