Approaching the golf course from its paved entrance along Blaine Street, you are met by a large Douglas fir tree to your right, anchored by a gray boulder. It was here where a Chemakum man (Kia-a-han) was lynched by a vigilante mob in the 19th century. Kia-a-han was accused of killing a roaming steer who belonged to a Chimacum farmer. After fleeing and hiding for many days, Kia-a-han was met by a posse of Port Townsend citizens who handcuffed and mounted him to a horse. They rode him to Port Townsend, where he was hanged from a limb of the tree that greets you at the golf course.

The Native man’s death was documented by S’Klallam/Chemakum tribal historian Mary Ann Lambert in her 1961 publication, Dungeness Massacre & Other Regional Tales. Soon after, Dorothy Hunt (Corresponding Secretary for the Jefferson County Historical Society) filed a nomination to include the tree on the National Register of Historic Places.

However, the tree’s nomination was unsuccessful. This is why the tree is not officially protected, as well as why the site lacks an informational plaque. Yet, photos and maps provided by Lambert and Hunt confirm that the tree in question is the same tree that stands at the golf course today. You can go look for yourself.

As an anthropologist with personal and professional ties to PT, the potential rezoning and destruction of a culturally significant site is extremely disturbing. If Port Townsend is truly concerned about social justice and equality, we should begin our “decolonial” work at home, where history exists in our own backyard — or, on our own golf course.

Protecting the hanging tree and nearby scrap of native prairie, as well as promoting public awareness of these places, is one step that we can take to right historical wrongs.

Alexandra Peck, Ph.D

Port Townsend