When prominent individuals pass on, someone often writes a long obituary about them. There may even be a full biography. From these, we learn about the events that shaped the person, and perhaps something about their beliefs and motivations. But for “ordinary folks” it is sometimes difficult to find basic information, and even harder to discover what made them tick, what dark depths they might have harbored. That was true for the victim in a Luke May case that took place over ninety years ago at Lake Forest Park, a rustic area about 10-12 miles north of downtown Seattle.
Lake Forest Park Entrance. Shoreline Historical Museum. |
Caroline M. “Carrie” McMichael was born around 1884 in Mississippi, shortly before her father took a government job in Washington D.C. Carrie’s father died in the spring of 1896, and by 1900 she was working as a stenographer. In 1903, she married William W. White and, about two years later, they had a son, Aubrey H. White. Shortly after that, they moved to Seattle, Washington. However, for unknown reasons, the couple split up around 1907. Carrie retained custody of Aubrey.
On January 14, 1910, she married Frank Parker, a Seattle real estate dealer. She identified herself as a widow on the marriage certificate … in an era when divorce was frowned upon. They had no children and Frank died in the spring of 1914. He was just 38 years old. Carrie supported herself and young Aubrey working as a secretary and bookkeeper for the next two years. Then she married again.
Her new husband was Oliver Evans Bakken. Oliver was born in 1878, about six months after his parents and a brood of siblings arrived from Norway and settled in central Iowa. Until the 1890s, family members all lived in the general vicinity of Fort Dodge, a small town not quite seventy miles north and a bit west of Des Moines.
Then, in 1896-1898, brother Ole Bakken moved to an ethnic enclave in northwest Seattle. Located on the shore of Puget Sound, the heavily Scandinavian workforce engaged in logging and salmon fishing. In 1904, another brother moved to Spokane. After that, Oliver moved back and forth between Fort Dodge and Seattle, finding work where he could. At some point, he met Carrie (McMichael, White) Parker, although we don’t know how. Thus, Washington records show that O. Evans Bakken of Fort Dodge, Iowa, married Carrie M. Parker, Seattle resident, on January 13, 1916 in Seattle.
Oliver soon took up permanent residence in Seattle. He and Carrie had a daughter, Helen, in 1917. The advent of World War I opened up more job opportunities and Oliver was able to find work in the Puget Sound shipyards. In fact, between his job and Carrie’s (and what she might have brought from her second marriage), they purchased a modest home in the Queen Anne Neighborhood, about three mile northwest of downtown Seattle. Then, before 1920, they traded up to a larger middle-class home in the same neighborhood.
Although Oliver listed no occupation for the 1920 Census, there is evidence that he had begun dealing in real estate. Thus, some time in the next couple of years, they acquired property in the Lake Forest Park development. The Park was a planned community located at the northwest end of Lake Washington. Rules prohibited commercial and multi-family development within the Park, and homes had to be reasonably substantial. Thus, structures built there “ranged from quaint bungalows to large Colonial or Tudor Revival style homes.” The Bakkens eventually owned about five acres, enough to support the family in a modest way. Also, Carrie’s income as a bookkeeper plus rental of the Queen Anne property provided a steady cash flow.
However, later accounts indicate that trouble began to loom at about this time: Carrie began to exhibit flashes of irrational anger. One neighbor told of a trip with the two from Seattle out to the Park in 1922. Oliver was driving, the neighbor was in the front passenger seat, and Carrie was in the back. Suddenly, for no apparent reason, she drew a gun from her purse and threatened to “fix” both of them. Oliver was able to wrestle the weapon away from her … no easy matter since she weighed 220-225 pounds.
That probably led to the first public sign of trouble. In May 1922, a Seattle newspaper published a brief item that said, “Suit for divorce was filed in superior court by O. E. Bakken against Carrie M. Bakken, cruelty … ” The couple must have reconciled because that process was not completed. It’s at least plausible that they patched it up because there were two children in the household. Oliver’s stepson, Aubrey White, was still in high school, while daughter Helen was about to start grade school. Aubrey graduated from high school in 1926. He was valedictorian of his class and received a scholarship to attend Washington State College (now University).
Neighbors also told of several episodes where Carrie threatened Oliver with a big double-bladed ax. In one instance, she marched all the way into a field with it to yell at him. A couple who boarded with them moved out after four months in fear of her temper bouts. In 1927, she underwent some sort of operation. The physician who later testified about it did not say exactly why. Still, it’s possible that the treatment was meant to address her tantrums. Whatever it was, the doctor asserted that the result may have made her problems worse.
Despite all that, Carrie was very successful at her job: The Seattle City Directory for 1929 and 1930 identified her a as a “Vice President” of the small manufacturing company she worked for. Unfortunately, her hours and income were reduced with the onset of the Great Depression. (The 1931 Directory listed her as simply “bookkeeper.”)
Thus, the already-existing tensions in the household grew worse. That was further exacerbated when Oliver allowed his nephew Tunis to live with them. Born near Spokane, Tunis was about sixteen years old in 1921, when his father died. As an adult, he seemed to have trouble finding steady work, trying his hand at laborer, logger, taxi driver, grocery store clerk, and other low-paying jobs. He moved in with Oliver and Carrie a few months before the shooting.
Sadly, Carrie’s malady seem to get progressively worse. Just a few days before the final confrontation, a neighbor lady who had hitched a ride into Seattle with Oliver saw Carrie dash out and threatened him with her favorite ax. After he wrestled it away from her and stuck it in the car, she went after a small hatchet. Luckily, nothing came of that.
On the day before the tragedy, the couple had another huge argument. Oliver later testified that she threatened to get a gun and shoot him. By this time, Helen and Tunis had learned to leave the house during there clashes, so neither could confirm any such threat. When the dispute resumed the next morning, the two took the Sunday newspaper and again went outside, away from the house.
According to Oliver, his wife’s rant climaxed when she grabbed a length of firewood for the kitchen stove and hit him on the hand and shoulder. He finally yanked that away from her and swung it back at her. She backed off but was still totally wrought up. She briefly turned toward a dresser where he thought she might have a gun. Oliver was exhausted from the struggle and thought he might collapse. Thoroughly scared, he drew a pistol, intending to frighten her away. He claimed he had no intention to shoot, but his hands were shaking so much “the gun went off.”
Then it “went off” twice more. Daughter Helen later testified that there was a noticeable pause between the three pops (which they did not recognize as gunshots at the time). One can make a plausible case – the defense surely did – that the first two shots hadn’t discouraged her and she was still coming at him. She was a hefty woman, the pistol was light (.25-caliber), and the ammunition was old. After somewhat gathering himself, Oliver went to report the incident and turn himself in. He gave a muddled story that was aggressively scrutinized during the trial.
Part of the confusion involved the identity of the death weapon. At one point, accounts suggested up to three possibilities: a revolver that Carrie might have bought on Saturday before the killing, a weapon Oliver perhaps bought for protection on Saturday, or a pistol Oliver said he had kept for “seventeen years.” This puzzle was finally unraveled by private criminologist Luke S. May. The death weapon was apparently the .25-caliber automatic that Oliver and his passenger had wrestled away from Carrie in 1922. It had been stored away, fully loaded, for all that time. Oliver said he retrieved it when Carrie threatened to get a gun and shoot him.
Bakken was charged with first degree murder, but he claimed self-defense. At the trial, the prosecution emphasized three points. First, they had only Oliver’s word that his wife had threatened him physically in any way. Second, the spaced out shots showed that he was taking time to aim carefully. And, finally, the fact that he had dug out a gun that had been hidden for (actually) nineteen years, indicated premeditation.
The defense featured a long parade of Bakken’s friends and neighbors. They attested to his wife’s erratic, hot-tempered behavior and the many times she had flashed weapons far more dangerous than a stick of firewood.
The jury deliberated for over twenty hours. Early on, they rejected the first-degree murder verdict urged by the prosecution. They then spent the rest of the time arguing over a second-degree murder conviction. That eventually foundered because two jurors refused to agree to even that lesser punishment. The jury finally compromised on a conviction for manslaughter.
In considering a sentence, the judge was impressed by a large stack of letters from Bakken’s friends and neighbors. They urged him to give Oliver a suspended sentence, or impose only token jail time. The judge called them a “tribute to the life he has led.” But he also made reference to the Ten Commandment and said he could not let a killing go unpunished. In the end, the judge imposed a sentence of three and a half to fifteen years in prison.
Oliver E. Bakken. Washington Penitentiary Records. |
Oliver’s attorneys did not appeal the verdict or sentence. Before he went off to prison, Bakken liquidated the family’s real estate and, after reserving $400 for his personal expenses, set up a fund of about $8,000 for daughter Helen. (That was a substantial sum for that time.) By then, she was living with her mother’s married sister in southwest Seattle. Stepson Aubrey White had already graduated from college and taken a job out of state as an agricultural agent. He was impossible to reliably track after that.
Oliver Bakken was paroled in the spring of 1935. Terms of his release apparently allowed him to take a job in Idaho, so he may have lived in Spokane, or perhaps Clarkston, across the river from Lewiston, Idaho. There’s no evidence that he ever returned to Seattle. Helen married in the summer of 1938 and continued to live in Seattle.
In March 1940, the state ended restrictions on Oliver’s movement, so he returned to Iowa. He stayed briefly with a brother, then settled back in Fort Dodge. Indirect evidence suggests that he passed away there in 1945 or 1946.
References: Genealogical records at Ancestry.com |
“[Bakken Background and Shooting],” Fort Dodge Messenger, Iowa; Evening Star, Washington, DC; Spokesman-Review, Spokane, Bellingham Herald, Tacoma Ledger, Seattle Times, Washington (June 1903 – October 1931). 2018). |
Luke S. May, Luke S. May Papers, Special Collections, University of Washington, Seattle, Washington (1969). |
Alan J. Stein, “Lake Forest Park – Thumbnail History,” Online Encyclopedia of Washington State History, HistoryLink.org, Seattle, Washington (December 5, 1998). |
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