Imagine walking down a street that smells of engine oil, where there are garages everywhere and metal-mesh fences everywhere—then suddenly you see a building that looks like a palace. Tall arched windows, beautiful columns, brick the color of dark cherry. Inside are enormous turbines the size of a two-story house. This is Georgetown—one of Seattle’s oldest neighborhoods. And this is a place people truly fought for. Not with fists—with words, posters, and stubbornness. And they won.
When the Neighborhood Was a City
Georgetown isn’t just a neighborhood. Once, it was a separate city. A real one, with its own mayor and its own laws. It was in the early 1900s, when Seattle was still growing. In 1910, Georgetown voted to become part of the larger city—and since then, its story has taken a different path.
Throughout the twentieth century, Georgetown was a working-class area. They brewed beer here, repaired cars, and made parts for aircraft. Right next to Georgetown stands Boeing’s oldest building—a 1909 wooden hangar that people simply call the “Red Barn.” And in 1906, right in the heart of the neighborhood, an electric plant was built—Georgetown Steam Plant. Back then, engineers decided that since the building would stand in the city, it should look beautiful. They built it like a little palace: with columns, with tall windows, with brick decorations. Outside—beauty. Inside—roar and steam.
Then the factories began to close. Workers left. Buildings emptied out. By the 1980s, Georgetown looked as if everyone had forgotten it.
Why Artists Love Ugly Places
When a place looks abandoned, rent there is cheap. That matters because artists, sculptors, and musicians usually don’t make much money—especially at the beginning. They need a large space (so there’s room to work with canvases or build sculptures) and low rent (so they can actually survive).
That’s why, in the 1990s, creative people started moving into Georgetown. They rented old garages and warehouses, set up easels and sewing machines, and hung paintings on fences. The neighborhood began to change. Small galleries appeared, along with coffee shops and studios. Every year, the “Georgetown Carnival” started taking place—a loud street festival with music, food, and homemade costumes. People who used to drive past the area without a second thought suddenly began coming on purpose.
But then something unpleasant happened.
The Fight Against Rust
Once the neighborhood became interesting and alive, developers took notice—people who build expensive homes and sell apartments inside them. They saw: it’s a nice place, close to downtown. You could build beautiful tall buildings and sell apartments for big money.
But to do that, the rules had to change. In Georgetown, there was “industrial zoning”—which means, by law, you can build only factories and warehouses, but not homes. Developers wanted to change those rules.
And this is where the artists and neighborhood residents did something unexpected: they spoke out against the changes. After all—wouldn’t it be better if, instead of old garages, there were new, beautiful houses? But residents explained: if you allow expensive housing, rental prices will rise. Artists won’t be able to afford to rent studios anymore. The galleries will close. The Carnival won’t have anyone to put it on. The neighborhood will become empty again—only now not because factories closed, but because of expensive apartments where people live who don’t need studios or carnivals.
Residents went to city meetings, wrote letters, explained themselves, and argued. They said, “Industrial zoning isn’t about factories. It’s about letting people with modest incomes and big ideas live and work here.” In the end, city authorities listened. Georgetown kept its special status. The artists stayed.
The Same Story—Right Now
Here’s what’s interesting: this story didn’t end in Georgetown. It’s happening again right now—in other cities, in other countries.
After the COVID-19 pandemic, thousands of office buildings around the world sat empty. People shifted to working from home, and the huge offices in city centers became unnecessary. And now, everywhere—from New York to London to Tokyo—people are arguing about what to do with these empty buildings. Sell them to developers? Or give them to artists, theaters, and workshops?
It’s exactly the same question that Georgetown residents were asking thirty years ago. And the answer they found is what city planners worldwide are studying right now: sometimes the most valuable thing in a city isn’t the most expensive. Sometimes it’s more important to preserve a place where people can do something unusual than to build yet another beautiful, but identical home.
The Palace Still Stands
Georgetown Steam Plant is still standing where it was. The turbines no longer work, but the building has been preserved. A few times a year, it opens to visitors—and people come to see these enormous mechanisms, the tall brick walls, and the windows through which light falls in.
Standing inside and looking up, it’s hard to believe that anyone could have wanted to demolish this place for a parking lot or a shopping center. But that’s exactly what happens to beautiful, unusual, “ugly” places around the world—if nobody fights for them, they disappear.
Georgetown residents decided to fight. And now the palace among the garages still stands. And the Carnival is still held every year.
