Originally published July 27, 2012 at 10:00 AM | Page modified July 27, 2012 at 12:01 PM
Amusements atop Seattle's Phinney Ridge, ca. 1926
The Phinney Ridge Ferris wheel once stood across Phinney Avenue from the entrance to Woodland Park.
CO. MUSEUM OF HISTORY & INDUSTRY / PEMCO WEBSTER & STEVENS COLLEC.
THEN: Between 1919 and 1934, the corner of Phinney Avenue North and North 55th Street was home to an amusement center that was a citywide attraction.
JEAN SHERRARD JEAN SHERRARD
NOW: Lora Hansen moved in 1936 with her parents to a home across the street from where the Ferris wheel had stood. She recalls that a playground merry-go-round was set on the concrete slab that once supported the amusement center, until St. John United Lutheran Church built its new sanctuary there in 1954-55.
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RECENTLY, WHILE retired University of Washington archivist Rich Berner and I looked at old photos in the Museum of History & Industry library, Rich pulled this week's subject from a box. Instantly I felt that happy "eureka!" rush. Here, I was confident, was the Phinney Ridge Ferris wheel described to me long ago by a former Ridge resident, who claimed that the big wheel stood across Phinney Avenue from the entrance to Woodland Park.
I wondered if she was remembering instead the kiddie Ferris wheel and merry-go-round that were both once in the park. How could I have missed a Ferris wheel on top of that familiar ridge? But I had.
In the spring and early summer of 1925, George and Lucy Vincent installed the New Carousselle, here generously signed above patriotic bunting at the front of their amusement center, and then the Aristocrat, which they described as "one of six giant Ferris wheels on the North American Continent." Both were, apparently, replacements for the smaller wheels they opened with in 1919 over considerable neighborhood resistance. George's father, Robert C. Vincent, age 76, died after a short illness early in 1920, not knowing if his top-of-the-ridge amusements would survive.
George kept the Vincent business in place until the night of Aug. 26, 1934, when it caught fire. Consumed was the Carousselle, the 62 hand-carved animals, the 1,000 electric lights and the reflecting mirrors. Gone were the skating rink, two lunch rooms and the Aristocrat. A few of the neighbors nearest to the ashes of the Carousselle's mighty Wurlitzer organ may have given thanks.
Check out Paul Dorpat and Jean Sherrard's blog at www.pauldorpat.com.











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