Just over ninety years ago, in 1917, the Snoqualmie Falls Lumber Company began
building houses for loggers and mill workers in the Snoqualmie Valley of Washington
State. When complete a few years later, the Weyerhaeuser operation included
250 houses, a community hall, schools, ball fields, a post office, company store,
barbershop, hospital, Japanese bunkhouse, hotel and a railroad depot to comprise
the new town of Snoqualmie Falls. The town was sustainable; people walked to all
essential services and electricity was supplied to homes at very low costs by
burning scrap wood in the mill. Hailed from the beginning in their own literature as
a “planned community” and a “social experiment,” the town was also promoted
by Weyerhaeuser as “permanent.” Internal Weyerhaeuser documents reveal that it
expected to consume the hundreds of thousands of acres of forest in forty years.
Fifty years ago (40 years after building it), the company sold the houses to the
renting workers and they were moved off-site (most are extant elsewhere in the
Snoqualmie Valley). The other structures were pulled down, and the town completely
disappeared. The ex-town site is now covered by Douglas fir—the same “crop” the
mill once turned into the first nationally branded lumber. Beginning in the 1920s,
the lumber was marketed as coming from an especially enlightened and progressive
place, and was used to construct all the town's houses and structures.
The town’s publicly declared purpose was to make it a “stable” and “comfortable”
base for millhands and itinerant and “wild” loggers (commonly referred to as
timber beasts). The company didn’t happily enter into the construction of an entire
town, but did so at a time when the Wobblies were making enormous inroads in
the lumber camps. As WWI was heating up, it became clear to Weyerhaeuser and
to the federal government that there could be a critical shortage of Sitka spruce,
crucial for constructing warplanes, if the anarchists paralyzed the industry.
Lumber camps were horrible places to live—damp, overcrowded, vermin—and
testosterone-ridden. In order to defeat the Wobblies, the company was forced to
dramatically better the living situation of its isolated employees. If the beasts were
to be tamed, a host of resident man-tamers was needed. Accordingly, the success
of the initiative was entirely dependent on attracting females to the “settlement.” A
man employed by the Snoqualmie Falls Lumber Company was entitled to a company
house at a nominal rent, but only if he had a wife with whom to occupy it. The
commercial and industrial heart of the town was of course the lumber mill, but its
nerve center was the community hall. For decades, the company organized all manner
of family- and women-centered events and programs there. Dances, contests stream
of babies was born in the town hospital, (the same facility that treated the loggers
working in the world’s most dangerous occupation).
The outbreak of WWI brought a huge manpower shortage; large numbers of ablebodied
American men were either being conscripted or volunteering for the armed
forces. In order to open the mill in 1917, the company arranged with a Japanese
contractor, who supplied a contingent of Japanese-born workers. With this core
group, some ex-timber beasts and a few women workers, the mill opened on schedule.
According to company records, until 1942, when the men were sent to Idaho for
internment, the Japanese never represented less than half the workers employed at
any time. Yet photographs very rarely showed them. Common perception is that
the workers were burly, blond Scandinavians, though to the company, the Japanese
were known as “well-behaved” and “hard workers” who never caused labor troubles,
the very qualities that Weyerhaeuser was trying to inculcate in its workforce by
building and maintaining the town. The Japanese bunkhouse was far removed from
the housing offered to the Caucasian workers and was torn down the day after the
men were sent to internment.
In its literature about the town, Weyerhaeuser wrote that families “enjoyed all the
comforts of the city home with the additional advantages of fresh air and plenty of
room.” The “tree-growing company” effectively became the family-growing company,
creating city life in the forest. By 1958, the forest itself had also been tamed,
no longer offering close-in harvest, and the town was abandoned. Snoqualmie
Ridge, another Weyerhaeuser planned community, has since sprouted nearby,
and Weyerhaeuser has made known its desire to officially become a real estate
investment trust (REIT). The social experiment that produced the town of Snoqualmie
Falls would seem to have been much more central to the core Weyerhaeuser business
than it might have appeared at the time.