In some ways, Ole Washington’s story isn’t much different from those of the other pioneers who settled the Yakima Valley.
Every week reporter Donald W. Meyers delves into the history of our region.
“The best laid schemes of mice and men often go awry, and leave us nothing but grief and pain, for promised joy!”
Friday marked the 48th anniversary of the Supreme Court’s decision in Roe v. Wade, which legalized abortion in the United States.
Almost 36 years ago next month, Yakima’s City Council voted to rename a southeast city park in honor of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.
While most people were bidding 2020 good riddance on New Year’s Eve, one Yakima County city quietly marked its 110th birthday.
At one time, for at least 20 years, Yakima’s city government was small enough to fit in a single building.
Most of us hardly give any thought to Interstate 82, except when there’s a crash, fire or high winds gumming up the traffic on the freeway.
Eighty-seven years ago last Saturday, Prohibition ended nationally.
Yakima County shrunk considerably 137 years ago.
Yakima’s Opera House serves as both a reminder of the early days of the city, as well as a symbol of its evolution.
In the early 20th century, orchardists in the Yakima Valley and other parts of the state were dealing with a menace.
Virginia Mason Memorial Hospital was born from a family’s grief 77 years ago.
Lucullus Virgil McWhorter was not an academically trained historian or anthropologist, but he was interested in Native Americans and their culture.
One of the great repositories of Yakima Valley’s history sits in Franklin Park.
Water, or rather the lack of it, is a matter of crucial importance in the western United States.
Seventy-three years ago, the Yakima County Sheriff’s Office experienced its first — and only — line-of-duty death of a sheriff’s deputy.
It sounds like a storyline ripped from a dime novel or a B-movie screenplay: Masked cowboys ride into town, rob the local bank at gunpoint and escape in a hail of gunfire.
It was 101 years ago today that Granger incorporated as a town.
Along North Wenas Road, three miles northwest of Selah, stands a small granite monument, one that’s easy to overlook.
Today we think of Maryhill for its art museum and the state park on the banks of the Columbia River.