*This post was originally an episode of the short-lived podcast, 1000 Words, and has been adapted for reading rather than listening. Quotes and other details are from The Spokesman-Review, The Spokane Chronicle, and other newspapers accessed via newspapers.com.*
Being an historian is like being a detective of cold cases where little to no evidence was kept, and all the witnesses are dead. Not all the time, of course, but sometimes. Like this time, where I followed a few false leads and landed at a few dead ends. That’s all part of the adventure, though.
My degree is in (Public) History. Specifically, my real interest is (was?) historic preservation. So far that’s mostly consisted of the fancy houses of rich dead white people. My interest is not so much in the rich, dead people but in the stories that occurred in, and the architecture that make up a structure and build a community. It was in the spirit of that that drew me to this photo.
The photo is from the Spokane City Historic Preservation Office collection, which can be found at the Washington State Digital Archives. If you haven’t checked out the Washington State Digital Archives, I encourage you to visit their site and see what you can find. https://digitalarchives.wa.gov/collections#RSID:25
You can also help them by volunteering to transcribe some records from your own home if that’s your jam. Also, a huge thanks to archivist Frank at the Eastern Regional branch in Cheney for helping me out with a couple of questions I had about today’s subject. The archivists there are fantastic and willing to answer questions and help researchers whenever they can.
Now get ready for some architecture jargon. At first glance, the house appears to be a Tudor revival style. If you’re familiar with the Campbell House in Spokane’s Brown edition, you know what Tudor revival looks like. There’s what appears to be a wraparound porch and a tall brick foundation. But wait.
On closer inspection, we see a square tower on the left side, looking all fancy with a bell dome type roof. She’s also sporting some castellations or battlements, on the peak of her roof, giving her a decidedly spooky Adams family kind of vibe. Tudor revival, she says. Nah, I’m a gothic girl. Is she Gothic revival, though?
Probably not, it’s more likely she’s a stick style home, which was a stepping stone between the Gothic Revival and the Queen Anne style. Feel free to leave me a comment with what you’d classify her as. Without more photos, I can’t be sure. I am not an architect. Most homes in this area are usually just called Craftsman or eclectic with style elements from whatever other style it has.
The most interesting part of this House, however, is the sign above the door which reads Dietetic Sanitarium.
The caption says, “Dietetic Sanitarium Mansion in Browns Addition.”
Now that you know what we’re looking at, let’s see what her story is.
This 14 or 15 room 6000 plus square foot stately beauty is located at South 901 Lincoln Street in the Hillside Addition. It was built in 1890 for Joseph H Spear for around $10,000.
Spear arrived in Spokane from Chicago in 1887 and his name started to show up in Spokane newspapers around 1888 in the classified ads financial section. The one below is from The Spokesman-Review, June 20, 1888
In addition to being involved in buying and selling real estate, Spear was also the founder, Secretary, treasurer and manager of the Washington Brick and Lime Company. In 1906, he was elected president of the Spokane club. He and his wife were often in the society columns of the newspaper for hosting various events and get togethers.
In 1913, the home was purchased by a former Tacoma resident, Doctor Charles L. Mode, and his wife Betty. They didn’t stay around exceptionally long, however. The Modes moved on and were residing on South Grand Boulevard just two years later, and the doctor was doing quite a bit of land trading in Washington and Idaho. But what about the sanitarium? We’re getting to that.
It isn’t entirely clear who owned the house at this point, but some permits listed John Booth as the owner. That’s a rather common name, so nothing super interesting came of that research. The house was listed as apartments for the first time in a 1920 classified ad, and a wanted ad for a cook was also posted sometime that year.
It was about that time that two women, Rachel Throckmorton and Laura Peck moved into the house and hung up the Dietetic Sanitarium shingle. The women were dieticians and had been classmates at Battle Creek Sanitarium in Michigan.
If Battle Creek sounds familiar to you, it might be because you have heard of the founder, Doctor John Harvey Kellogg. You know, the cereal guy. You may have also heard that his methods range from common sense: eat a low-fat whole grain diet, get exercise and fresh air, to the less conventional, such as frequent enemas and electrotherapy, and even more extreme methods that you are free to research on your own.
A quick side note about sanitariums, humans have always been obsessed with health and cure-alls. In the 1800s and early 1900s, it was a popular belief that most of the illness humans suffered from, be they mental or physical stemmed from the environment they were in, the foods they ate and the toxins in the body that could tip the balance of health. One cure that was practiced in sanitariums was the milk and rest cure. The patient was to stay in bed, isolated and sitting up only when absolutely necessary. They were permitted to consume nothing but milk for the first week, sometimes longer, and were subjected to vigorous massage to keep the muscles from atrophy.
They were not allowed to read, write, visit or do anything that might strain their mind. This treatment was pioneered by Doctor Silas Mitchell and was prescribed almost exclusively to women. Other methods practiced in sanitariums were downright deadly like the extreme fasting, AKA starvation practiced by Linda Hazzard at Wilderness Heights in Olalla, WA.
There is no proof that any of those sketchy treatment plans were practiced at the Lincoln Street home. However, in a February 1927 Spokesman-Review article about Miss Throckmorton, she said,
“Only under the directions and placing of the most ethical of the medical profession are patients accepted. In addition to diet, baths and the services of an expert graduate masseuse are available as needed.”
So, that sounds a little like maybe they ran it a bit like they were taught at Battle Creek, but there were no reports of foul play and no record of any complaints against the women or the facility. Throckmorton also said she was diligent in giving advice so that patients were able to continue their good habits after they went back to their normal lives.
The next instance of the sanitarium appearing in the news was in 1922, when 5 hospitals were denied permits to operate due to not complying with building codes related to fire protection. That was the end of the Dietetic Sanitarium on Lincoln Street. Throckmorton and Peck moved on to practice at West 507 7th Avenue. Today, this location is the Corbin Arts Center, whose historic nomination doesn’t mention a sanitarium at all.
The former sanitarium on Lincoln Street officially became apartments after the dietitian duo moved out. Advertisements for rentals in the newly named Hillcrest Apartments started showing up around 1938.
The appearance of the building changed dramatically in the years following. I could not find any record of a demolition, but the House, as it was built, does not exist any longer as evidenced in this street view.
In 1956, a permit was issued to remove the third story and porch. A second story addition was also added, and a new roof was built up. Slowly, the building went from being one of the architectural stunners of Spokane to a bland modern apartment building with absolutely no personality.
I don’t expect every building to be some fabulous work of art, and I can usually find beauty in most structures. I’m one of the few people who find The Parkade in downtown Spokane beautiful.
I understand that maintaining a massive home like this can be a huge burden due to its size and inefficiency in terms of heating, etcetera. It’s just sad that the exquisite craftsmanship that went into a home of that time disappeared like it never existed. The only remnants of its past are the two sets of steps in the yard leading to the front entrance.
If you’re curious about any of the people in this story…I already told you they’re all dead.
Okay, okay!
J.H. Spear ended up in Oakland, CA, where he died in 1920. His body was brought back to Spokane, and he was laid to rest at Fairmount Cemetery. Dr. C.L. Mode died in Spokane in 1948. His wife Betty in 1958.
Rachel Throckmorton continued to practice at various locations in the Spokane area. In 1926, she was arrested for operating a hospital without a permit. This one was located at West 1321 6th Ave. She was released and I cannot find any record of her sentence. In the 1940 census, there is a woman with that name listed as a maid in Five Mile. Although the name and the birthplace match, the age is 10 years off and she’s listed as having no education, I’m not confident that it’s our Rachel. Our Rachel died in Indiana, which was her birth state in 1965.
Laura Mae Peck was married to Roy Jones, a patent attorney, in 1924. She stuck around at the 7th Ave. location for another year and the last place I could find her was Seattle. The last name of Jones is nearly impossible to research without more clues to the specific person.
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