Dear Reader, Five years ago, when I started taking long walks around Seattle for fun, it felt like the city was blossoming right before my eyes. Discovery awaited me at every turn, as previously ignored side streets were explored, Little Free Libraries were rummaged through, and spilled boxes of paper clips on the sidewalk became the catalyst for endless wonder. By slowing down and tuning in to my surroundings, I found myself appreciating the little things in life in a whole new way. These strolls were turned into an online comic, and later, a book, called Seattle Walk Report, where the everyday mundanities of city life were meticulously documented through data collection and drawings. Even thousands of miles in, the ephemeral discoveries of a meandering walk were a renewable source of comic inspiration. But then, on a late summer evening in Capitol Hill, a new sort of inspiration struck. I was walking on sidewalks whose every crack and contour I knew well, past buildings I had seen countless times, when something caught my attention. There, on the side of an old building on 14th Ave.

and E. Pike St., appeared a small rectangular door at ground level. "CLARKS COAL CHUTE," an embossed emblem on the door read. "T.F. CLARK. PATENTED JULY 24 1906.

SEATTLE, WASH." Before I knew it, I was digging through US Census records, patent applications, newspaper databases, and photo archives, determined to piece together what I could about this mysterious man and his beautiful coal chute. A few weeks later and knee-deep in research, I returned to 14th and Pike in the daytime to get a photo of this object of my affection and. it was gone, the hole that remained covered up by a piece of plywood. A rented dumpster stood nearby. I felt like I had dreamt it (and briefly considered dumpster diving). This coal chute had likely been sitting on the side of that building for over 100 years, I'd spotted it, and then just weeks later, it was gone. What were the chances? But then, I saw another Clark's Coal Chute on Capitol Hill.

And another. My eyes were opened anew, and I began to wonder how much I really knew about the things I passed by every day on Seattle's streets, from light fixtures and utility covers to bricks and parks. The closer I looked at the parts of my environment I had glossed right over, the more questions I had. There was a heap of hidden history right under my nose, just waiting to be documented before becoming the next thing to meet its fate at the bottom of a nondescript dumpster on a Capitol Hill street corner. On these pages, you'll find the untold story of T. F. Clark and his coal chutes, along with other tales--of trees, trails, and terra-cotta. I wanted to shine a light on the stories behind the places and things you can walk or roll by any day in Seattle, as well as share some of my favorite under-the-radar spots, most of which I didn't even know existed before a chance encounter on a neighborhood walk.

My hope is that this book will inspire you to take a look at your surroundings with a new interest and curiosity. While mundane on the surface, a closer look may reveal some fascinating stories and secrets that deserve to see the light of day. Love, Seattle Walk Report a.k.a. Susanna Ryan.