Fort Casey was built at the beginning of the 20th century. The fort continued operations to deter enemies approaching Puget Sound until just after the end of World War 2. While active, the Coast Artillery forces practiced daily, firing their guns at moving targets, getting better with their accuracy, and finding new ways to ensure that the homeland they were protecting was safe from whatever threat the enemy may present. And at the same time, the soldiers lived their lives here. They ate here. They watched sunsets, played ball games, marched in formation, polished brass, mowed grass, and dreamed of home. The enlisted men slept in bunkhouses. Officers stayed in grand mansions, separated from the common soldiers by the green expanse of the parade field between them. But the officers did much the same as the soldiers after work, eating their meals, sitting on their porches with a book, writing letters back home wherever that may be, and also dreaming of being home someday. My father joined the war effort in World War 2, and became a Coast Artillery officer, teaching others how to fire anti-aircraft guns to protect our coastline. As a child I saw the Coast Artillery patches he had worn, the same patches on display here; I handled the brass insignia that had graced his collar and hat; I hefted one of the shells that had somehow ended up residing in the corner of our dining room. And here is where those tokens of a chapter of my father’s life would have been seen every day, handled and touched and used as naturally as the handle on a bunkhouse door, or the rope which secures the flag flying over the field. The federal government surplused the fort property to Washington State in the Fifties, adding it to our amazing collection of state park lands. The area of Camp Casey with bunkhouses and residences of the fort, however, became the property of what was then Seattle Pacific College. Today these buildings lie silent. Deer outnumber visitors. During normal weeks of normal years they are occupied with school groups, soccer camps, church retreats, kite flyers, family reunions, university classes, or whatever else might need a large gathering place in a magnificent setting. But this evening they are empty, perhaps haunted or just lost in thought remembering the days gone by when the fields were busy with soldiers carrying out orders, led by older men giving out orders, everyone here working to protect the rest of us living our normal lives further down the waters of Puget Sound. You don’t really hike Camp Casey. You stroll, you amble and ramble, you walk and talk. You could march and step and parade, or you could saunter and jaunt and stretch or stride. I did most of these wandering around the sidewalks and along the beach, stopping frequently to wonder about military life here back then, and to enjoy what it is like to tour the grounds today. Paint is peeling in places, the walkways untended and rough. But the feeling of a fort remains, the heavy presence of order, and the evidence of the mission to serve and protect the homeland, the cities nearby, and the folks back home. I too lived at a Coast Artillery fort for a decade, at Fort Worden just across Admiralty Inlet, raising a family that lived in one of the officer’s houses. We ate our meals, walked the sidewalks and fields, wandered the beaches and watched life happen. Today the memories of those days are thick and resonant within me, the ghosts of earlier times inhabiting my heart and reminding me of days gone by. The sun lowered over the Olympics as this day ended at Camp Casey. A light fog began to envelop the parade field. The mist of time swirled around me, and lives unseen walked Camp Casey once again. jack Directions: From Highway 20 in Coupeville take Main Street south, which turns into Engle Road, for 3.6 miles to Camp Casey. Park near the office and ask for permission to walk the grounds, or call ahead at 360.678.5050. Camp Casey is accessible by Island Transit. Comments:
Thank you, this is the best description and narrative I’ve read about the camp. It really gave the Fort the human side of such a facility. It wasn’t just a place with bunkers, and 10” disappearing guns. Verleen Boyer
0 Comments
Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
Leave a Reply. |
Authors
Maribeth Crandell has been a hiking guide in the Pacific NW for over 20 years. She's lived on Whidbey and Fidalgo Island for decades. As a frequent bus rider she easily makes connections between trails and transit. Archives by date
April 2024
Categories
All
|