Seattle & King County

What's in a (street) name?

Lots of history, if we care to notice. And there are lots more unnamed spaces waiting to get a little local flavor.

What's in a (street) name?
Sponsorship

by

Benjamin Lukoff

Lots of history, if we care to notice. And there are lots more unnamed spaces waiting to get a little local flavor.

Your resident address nerd wishes he had thought of writing Mossback's recent call for the naming of Seattle's unnamed spaces. Having been asked to provide input, however, is the next best thing.

Starting with our over 260 miles of mostly nameless alleys is a good move. Name changes, unless they run through property controlled by one entity (such as the University of Washington for Mary Gates Memorial Drive N.E., or Safeco Field for Edgar Martinez Drive S.), tend to be more expensive, contentious, and drawn out than new christenings. (This may be the reason the last such general call, made by Jean Godden in 1997, failed to make much headway.) Given all this, we're unlikely to rearrange our street grid to eliminate numerals and flowers until it's rearranged for us. But here are some other places through which our heritage could be brought to life:

This could also be an opportunity to expand our use of street-type  designations. Mossback already mentioned the University District's Roethke Mews: how about some walks, closes, and rows in addition to our handful of lanes, courts, and terraces? (Please, though, no stravenues.)

A few closing words of advice. This is one of those times when the Seattle process is a good thing. Nobody takes seriously names imposed from without ("West Edge," anyone?). And let's keep things short: who uses "Martin Luther King Jr. Way S." in its entirety, let alone Gates and Martinez Drives? (I make an exception for Royal Brougham: only three syllables, and a synonym for "king's carriage," which is what I thought it meant till I was a teenager.) But even if things do get bogged down, and we never progress beyond a few names sprinkled hither and yon, the conversation itself could prove to be a great antidote to what's been called our civic dementia.