History

The End of an Era

The 'Kettle Falls' themselves were located on the upper Columbia River about 40 miles south of the Canadian border, and was once one of the most important fishing and gathering places for Native Americans in the Northwest. The sound of the river, plunging nearly 50 feet in a series of cascades, could be heard for miles. It was said that the salmon ran so thick there that it was impossible to throw a stick into the water without hitting a fish. All this came to an end in 1941, with the completion of Grand Coulee Dam, located about 100 miles downstream. The dam, built without a passage for fish, closed the upper Columbia and its tributaries to migrating salmon. Today, the noise at Kettle Falls comes not from rushing water but from nearby Highway 395. The falls themselves were lost to below the surface of a reservoir called Franklin D. Roosevelt Lake, only to be partially revealed occasionally when the water level is lowered before the spring thaw of this once picturesque and grand natural wonder.

Prior to this, Kettle Falls had served as the nexus for a complex trading network based on ocean-going (anadromous) fish for thousands of years,. Huge numbers of salmon passed through the falls during spawning season, from June through October. The fish were a magnet for Native Americans from both sides of the Rocky Mountains. Plains Indians brought buffalo hides, pemmican, and pigments ground from iron oxide deposits to Kettle Falls, trading for tule mats, dentalium shells, and other goods from the Pacific Coast. Later, European trade goods were added to the mix. Up to 14 tribes met regularly at the falls to fish, trade, and socialize, in what Canadian explorer and mapmaker David Thompson (1770-1857), the first non-Indian to describe Kettle Falls called "a kind of general rendezvous for News, Trade and settling disputes"

Thompson spent two weeks at Kettle Falls, building a canoe and otherwise preparing for what would become the first navigation of the Columbia from its headwaters in British Columbia to its mouth on the Pacific. A careful observer, he described in detail the practices that governed the salmon fishery at the falls. He initially thought the Indians were overly "sensitive" and "superstitious" about the fish that passed through the area in such seemingly inexhaustible numbers. He later decided that experience had taught them the best way to manage what was for them a critical food source.

Fishing at the falls was a highly organized enterprise. A salmon chief (called "See-pay," or Chief of the Waters) launched the season by spearing the first salmon; decided when the general harvest could begin; supervised the placement of basket traps along the rocky shoreline, and oversaw the construction of fishing platforms that extended over the turbulent water. At the end of the day, he divided the catch. Thompson was surprised to see that only one man was fishing, with a spear, when he arrived, even though there were more than enough fish in the river to keep many people busy. He was told the harvest did not begin in earnest until the salmon chief announced that enough fish had safely cleared the falls. This was necessary, the Indians said, to protect the harvest in the future.

Thompson found it hard to believe many of the things that the Indians told him about salmon: that the fish ate nothing on their journey upriver, that any trace of blood or offal in the water would spook them; that they would die after spawning. After confirming some of this through his own dissections and experiments, he concluded that "the Natives knew the habits of the Salmon better than we did"

Grand Coulee, completed in 1941, ended migratory salmon and steelhead runs in the entire upper Columbia Basin. A study prepared for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers in 1999 put the annual loss at 1.1 million fish. The Indian catch went from a historical average of 644,500 fish a year to nothing. "One day we were fishermen, the next day there were no fish," said Michael Marchand, a member of the council of the Confederated Tribes of the Colville Reservation

With the dam nearing completion in June 1940, the Colvilles organized a "Ceremony of Tears" to mourn the loss of the fishery at Kettle Falls. Representatives of the Yakimas, Spokanes, Nez Perce, Flatheads, Blackfeet, Coeur d'Alenes, Tulalips, and Kalispels joined the Colvilles for three days of ceremonies, games, dances, tributes, and expressions of grief. An estimated 8,000 to 10,000 people attended.

Three weeks later, Kettle Falls disappeared beneath Lake Roosevelt -- the reservoir rising behind Grand Coulee. The land around the long-submerged falls is now part of the Lake Roosevelt National Recreation Area, which encircles the 144-mile-long reservoir backed up by Grand Coulee Dam.

The demise of one town and the creation of a Home

The original town fathers envisioned Kettle Falls as a major resort, with fine hotels and other amenities to supplement the spectacular scenery and recreational fishing. One large hotel was built on the edge of the river, a library, fine houses, churches and schools were built—but even more impressive than that were the up-to-date water system and the electric lighting. The population grew to one thousand and the train and stagecoach were constantly bringing in more people.

In 1891 the New York investors decided to see how their money was being put to use. They rode across the country in a cramped train and were unaccustomed to the " crude and boisterous" West. When they finally reached Kettle Falls, "…they failed to recognize the Garden of Eden portrayed in the company’s promotional literature." (Donald Clark, Spokesman Review March 13, 1949.) They decided to stop investing in Kettle Falls and quickly fled back to New York. The withdrawal of the investor’s money had an immediate and drastic effect. Land was sold for half as much, the elaborate Hotel Rochester shut down, residences were vacated and entire houses were moved to new locations. In 1900 the census reported that the population had dwindled to 404 residents. Sawmills and ranches kept the town alive until the news hit that the Grand Coulee dam would force them to relocate their entire town. Kettle Falls was the largest town in Stevens County to be relocated.

Houses were bought and relocated by the government. Structures were dismantled or destroyed and Kettle Falls annexed itself a 60-foot strip of land leading to and including part of the town of Meyers Falls. The town moved to its new location and they voted to change the name of Meyers Falls to Kettle Falls. The new location was built around the railroad and soon became successful in its new location. Many people of the area welcomed electricity and irrigation provided by the new dam. But losing the 45-year-old town could be viewed as minor compared to losing the actual Kettle Falls and the beautiful Columbia River valley.

Oldest Fort in Northwest Burned

"The oldest fort in the northwest, established in 1811 by the Hudson Bay Co. and located six miles north of here was burned to the ground Wednesday afternoon. The cause was unknown. The facts below were given to Mr Thomas Ledgerwood by Father Ehe, a missionary who came across the plains in '37 and established the mission in 1838.

"The first stopping place for the Company was at the mouth of the little Spokane in 1809 but after two years they abandoned this site as not satisfactory and came to the Columbia Valley point as more centrally located and in 1811 established the fort". The little mission was located near and was built in 1849, long after the building of the fort.

There was only one occasion that the old-fashioned canon was ever used. The Indians ceased to visit the fort and became very sulky and soon attacked the fort but only one shot was required to disperse them."

- The Kettle Falls Scimitar, July 14, 1910