Memories of the Covington area and changes that have occurred as recalled by a native of the area for over forty years.
Sitting like a silent citadel surrounded by an ever-changing landscape, the Bonneville Power Administration (BPA) substation in Covington pumps out power ceaselessly day after day, year after year.
It has been a permanent fixture in Covington for as long as I can remember. As a little kid, when trains plied the tracks next to the substation on a regular basis several times a day, I remember driving by the behemoth wondering what lurked inside. The huge windows wherein you could see a monstrous crane, the myriad of cable, wire and steel pulsing with electricity, the helicopter that flew the skies daily to check the status of the hundreds of miles of high tension wires, mammoth transformers sitting like giants in a pen of security, insulators bigger than a man that kept the electricity at bay like a lion tamer’s whip, a barbed wire fence surrounding the grounds with signs hung at varying intervals all gave indication of something massive, something intriguing, something dangerous and mysterious. But there, day after day, calling to me, beckoning me to look inside sat the BPA substation.
Then one day, I drove through the gate at the end of Wax road into the complex. (Today that gate is sealed shut, blocked by huge blocks of concrete; no admittance.) As a child, my parents took me on several tours of facilities to see how they worked. The Rainier Beer Brewery, now gone. The Sunny Jim Peanut Butter Factory, gone. Weyerhaeuser sawmill, gone and many more. So, here, in Covington, I wanted to tour something grand, something that had piqued my curiosity for years. I drove to the front of the building and stepped inside.
It was like stepping into an old monster movie. Dials reading electrical output, wattage, amperage and other power related information. Huge transformers, switches and machines. Dazzling lights on display boards. A room housing these items so vast it felt like you were inside a football stadium. And, like every dam I’ve ever visited, a pristine environment housing it all. A few workers sat around reading and monitoring machines and a man met me to talk. I asked about taking a tour and he informed me that wasn’t possible. I was disappointed. I really wanted to learn more and see how this beast worked. Electricity is fascinating and I wanted to ingest more information. I left, still yearning for more.
Today, those hopes are dashed due to the threat of terrorism and the like. I don’t even think you can get into the complex anymore. The gates are shut. Access denied to non-employees.
Yet, the substation continues to work, a vital link keeping Covington and many other cities running. I wonder how much the inside of the substation has been updated with computers and other modern technology. Does it still look “monstrous”? Have they filled more of the open space with other instruments? What has changed in the forty some years I’ve lived here? If only I knew and had the power to change the forbidden zone of fascination into a learning experience.
Long before the Covington library was built, the land on which it now stands was covered by some houses, trees, bushes and yards.
For several years I worked for my father in his cleaning business and I distinctly remember cleaning one of those houses that sat about where the middle of the library parking lot now sits. I remember driving by that area and seeing children playing, people going about their daily lives, cars parked in dirt driveways and life just happening. When news that a library would be built there reached my ears, it was both exciting and disheartening.
To see homes removed and progress taking over harkened the onset of an approaching city. Eventually the homes were gone and the library stood in its place. A few years ago it was completely remodeled.
I must say it is a beautiful library and very convenient. But to think back in time when Covington was just a dot on the map is always sobering. Things will continue to change, but the memories will always live on.
The rain may come and the rain may go. The skies may be gray and overcast days at a time. But when the sun comes out, those are the days I remember the best!
For as long as I’ve lived here, I always remember the beautiful days in Covington. The brilliant blue sky, the fresh air, the sounds of birds and small animals scurrying around, the smell of freshly cut grass, warmth from the sun; these are what I remember and enjoy.
It’s no different today. As I look out my window, the bright blue sky and warm February temperatures remind me of the beauty and enjoyment of living here. It takes me back to a time when I was about ten years old. It was summer. I woke up to the sun streaming through my window. My mom had the radio on and the song Leaving On a Jet Plane was playing. I got up and the day was beautiful. I played all day and enjoyed that summer sunshine. That’s how I picture Covington, Washington. I don’t think much about the rain and dreary days, it’s those bright sunny days that stick in my mind.
And it seems we’ll have more just like today as our mild, warm winter continues. Woo-hoo! Sunshine in Covington! Awesome!
I vividly remember a man who lived next door when I was a child who passed out at the sight of blood. One day, his wife, if I remember correctly, called my dad for help. Her husband had cut his hand trying to change the blade on his lawn mower. I remember is was bleeding badly and he was about to faint at the sight of the blood. It was wrapped tightly, although the blood was oozing through the material and he needed medical attention quickly.
I don’t remember why, but my dad had me ride with him and the neighbor to the hospital. Maybe it was for company. I can’t recall. I don’t remember much about the ride there and back either, but I’m sure we went to either Auburn hospital or Valley General. (Now called Valley Medical) Thinking about that made me consider how far Covington has come with regard to medical help.
Back then, those two hospitals were the closest medical facilities in the area. Since Covington was a rural area there was not a demand for medical clinics or hospitals. But as the population grew, so did the need for medical help nearby.
I remember when the Covington Multicare Clinic and Surgery Center was built almost two decades ago. That was exciting! A medical facility close, very close to home. It became and still is a very busy place seven days a week. With surgeries performed there, clinics of varying specialities, an Urgent Care clinic for after hours use and more, it is a very necessary part of Covington. But it doesn’t stop there.
Just down the street is the Valley Medical clinic. Then by city hall there are specialty offices. Next to Walgreens are more doctors offices and dental offices. In Maple Valley at Four Corners are medical facilities. And it keeps growing. Now, Valley Medical and Multicare have applied for and sent in plans to build more. Valley Medical wants to build a 24 hour emergency center and Multicare a larger hospital with emergency services and other specialties. As time goes on and Covington continues to grow, I’m sure more medical clinics and emergency services with arise.
It’s a long way from when we took our neighbor 15 to 30 minutes away to get medical help. Now, should someone have an unfortunate accident or need, medical help is just minutes away, maybe even seconds depending where in Covington you live!
It was a summer day. Warm. Bright. Perfect. And then the sirens came. I remember hearing them in the distance. Approaching. Coming closer. Did something happen nearby? Was there another bad accident on highway 18? Did something happen in Covington?
At that time, Kent-Kangley was a two-lane road. It was lined on both sides by forests. A few houses lined the road here and there either right on the shoulder of Kent-Kangley or perpendicular to the road and down a short dirt driveway. Other than the grocery store and a few small businesses, Covington was very rural. The sound of sirens always made me perk up.
Somewhere around Walgreen’s or the complex by The Rock stood a few houses. That’s where the sirens were headed. For some reason, in my mind, the house was orange and white. Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. But that’s what I remember. A few trees stood in front of it with a short sidewalk that ended at the shoulder along Kent-Kangley. There might have been a small fence.
My stomach churned and my heart beat faster as I heard the commotion of emergency vehicles converge in the area by the home. I didn’t walk down there due to fear and being so young, but the flashing lights and the urgency of it all told me something was wrong. Although the day was still light and warm, the sun set on my heart and mind as I wondered what terrible thing was going on. A feeling of depression and sadness filled my soul and my wish to play waned.
In an age before the Internet, instant news and the ability to find out in minutes what was going on, it wasn’t until a day or two later that I heard what had happened. A young boy or teenager had left that home and crossed the street only to be hit by a car. There were no crosswalks or lights. To cross was a free-for-all. You took your chances.
The story I heard was that his body was thrown several feet through the air landing on the pavement nearby. The mental images that formed in my mind and my imagination of the scene chilled me. To hear those warnings from your parents from the time you can walk about not crossing a busy road and then seeing the consequences of their warnings is indescribable. I don’t remember if the boy died, but something tells me he did. For a long time, every time we drove past that house my mind conjured up images of the deadly scene.
To this day, when I read of stories of people crossing the street and getting hit and killed, I think of that boy and his family. Right here in Covington. Years ago when the traffic was minimal. A rural town. Yet it happened. I’ve been stupid enough to cross a road without using the crosswalk a few times, and my heart pounds when I think of how easily I could have gotten hit myself. No matter how hard you look both ways, there’s always that car your mind and eyes didn’t see. To imagine hearing the screeching of tires and the blare of a horn before that numbing crunch of your body against the grille is chilling. May it never happen!
Many years ago, Covington became home to McDonald’s. What an exciting day that was! We were moving up in the world. If you have a McDonald’s, your city is important.
Some businesses and stores seem to identify or create a city’s importance or emergence on the map. When McDonald’s arrived, I felt like we were somebody. Covington was cool! Of course, over the years, McDonald’s sitting on the corner of Wax Road and Kent-Kangley (SR 516 or SE 272nd St.) became a well-known and common establishment. As the area grew and more people moved in, McDonald’s also showed up in Maple Valley by Wilderness Village and at Four Corners. Now, once again, McDonald’s is re-emerging as “new and improved.”
According to the sign, the new McDonald’s in Covington should open in the spring. It will be all new except for a couple of walls from the old building that were left and built into the new building. It will be bigger, have a newer more modern look and will continue to be an icon on the corner of that busy intersection.
I am waiting and excited. When it opens, I’ll return once again to a fast-food chain that has been part of Covington for many years and probably will for decades to come!
Stand where Taco Time is today, go back 30 years and look across Kent-Kangley to the other side. Today you see Walgreen’s. Thirty-some years ago you would have seen a tavern. In Covington? Yup.
A friend of our family did many things in her life. She was the type of person that didn’t sit still. She was always moving, doing something, trying something new. At one point in her life she built a tavern where Walgreen’s sits today. I don’t remember how long it stood there providing liquor for customers, maybe five to ten years, but eventually it burned down.
I remember it was basically a rectangular building constructed of bricks. It was pretty simple, but it was definitely a drinking establishment. Like many cities of the past, Covington had a grocery store, a few churches, a pharmacy and gas station and a tavern. Those days are long gone, but pondering what was and now is makes one appreciate how quickly things can change in just a few short decades.
Today if one wants a drink at a tavern, they would need to travel toward Maple Valley and stop by the Pla-Mor tavern across from Cherokee Bay. Or, if you’re just looking for a Friday night spot to have a drink with friends that’s not a tavern-type establishment, there are several restaurants in the area that offer liquor. Wherever one might go, truth be told things change!
I ate dinner at Ristorante Isabella the other evening. As I sat there, I realized that I was sitting on the very spot where possibly, 35 years ago or so, I may have ridden my bike.
Since the restaurant, and other businesses in that area have all been built on the land where several bike trails used to be, it is possible that I rode either through, past or on the very spot I was sitting eating dinner. It’s strange how things change and time flows. If I could travel back in time while I sat in the restaurant, would there be a point where my chair would be sitting right where I used to play? I’ll never know. But I do know it was that area where I used to relax with my friends when I was small.
Since our old house sat where the new medical building by City Hall sits now, looking at the area around that vicinity brings back a flood of memories of what used to be. Those feelings and thoughts really come to the fore when I mention something about the area to others and they look surprised and say something like, “Really? I didn’t know that! You actually lived and played here?” Although to them it is a fleeting comment lost in the haze of time, to me the memories solidify and coalesce in my mind every time I drive by. I can’t help but think of how much has changed in 40 years!
I’ve seen a lot of changes in and around Covington. One of the ones that boggles my mind the most is the intersection at 216th and Kent-Kangley road right in front of the Pla-Mor Tavern.
I don’t know if there is a valid reason for this or not, but it still boggles my mind. What is it? Not making the main entrance to Cherokee Bay at the same intersection as 216th and Kent-Kangley where a stoplight with turn lanes now exist.
For years, there was no light there. In fact, there were two entrances to Cherokee Bay. The current “main entrance” and the blocked off entrance at the above-mentioned intersection. The year they put in the signals I was ecstatic. Finally! A light, one entrance to Cherokee Bay, far less accidents from turning without a signal and one intersection for all roads.
As construction progressed, my bewilderment increased. Only three sets of lights? Blocking off the road into Cherokee Bay? No lights on that side of the street? Improving the entrance to Cherokee Bay down the road from the new signals but still forcing vehicles to turn into the development without a signal? Causing more congestion with a signal and separate entrance? Increasing the odds of accidents or fatalities? I didn’t understand. I still don’t.
Why the main entrance to Cherokee Bay was not part of the changes that were made to Kent-Kangley and 216th baffles me. Why didn’t the city or state mandate that it become the main entrance thus diminishing congestion, increasing life expectancy of drivers and passengers and creating a smooth intersection instead of creating more congestion? Why didn’t Cherokee Bay step up to the plate and willingly work with these improvements for the sake of everyone, not just their development?
Perhaps there was a good reason. Perhaps I don’t have all the facts. Suffice it to say that from all logical angles and from all perspectives of saving lives this intersection should have been designed as the only one for all roads involved instead of creating a potential deathtrap for anyone entering or exiting Cherokee Bay.
Perhaps this will be corrected in the future? I can only hope so for my family’s sake and for all others who use this road and the entrance to Cherokee Bay.
One by one they disappear. Dilapidated. Empty. Destroyed. Only air drifts through their shells like wisps of smoke from a dying fire. Only memories race inside my head of what used to be.
I watch the houses of friends in the neighborhood by city hall slowly go away. I noticed today a house across from Office Depot is now boarded up, part of the roof missing and gone, the home ready for destruction. I played there. I was in that house hundreds of times. I had dinner there, swam in a pool in the back yard where I heard horror stories of children drowning in larger pools. I was probably eight or nine.
One family I knew lived there. They moved and another moved in. We knew them too. I grew up with their children. That house was on the back side of some other friends house which sat across from city hall where our house used to be. We would climb the fence in the back yard into the other yard and get yelled at by parents. Or we could walk around the U-shaped street and spend an extra four minutes walking.
As these homes disappear to make way for progress, memories of days past flash through my mind. Only I will remember what happened in those empty lots when I was young. At some point in the future, perhaps I’ll stand at such-and-such longitude and latitude which corresponds to the location of those old homes and find myself inside a mall, a restaurant, a parking lot or a business. Who knows?
The strange thing is the sensation of knowing what used to be and what will be in the future.