People and Stories
Bad Ben Legg: Issaquah Outlaw

By Erica Maniez, Museum Director / Winter 2004

On March 29, 1920, the headline of the Seattle Daily Times blared, “Issaquah Ducks for Cover as Shots Fly!” The subtitle read, “Bad Benn Legg Has Aim That Matches Heart.” In less than ten words, the newspaper implied that Legg was not only a bad person, but also a poor shot.

The moniker Bad Ben Legg may not have been deserved. Family members say that Legg was actually a kind, soft-spoken man, a loner who knew hardship during his life in the rough mining town that was early 20^th Century Issaquah.

Like many of Issaquah’s early residents, Ben Legg was the son of immigrants. His father, Robert Legg, came to the United States from England in 1869. His first wife died in childbirth sometime after 1880. Robert Legg married his first wife’s cousin, Jane Fynes, in 1886. Ben Legg was born in 1889 in North Lawrence, Ohio, the second of ten children born to Robert and Jane Legg.

In 1893 the family moved to the town of Gilman, Washington (today’s Issaquah). Robert Legg left behind a large lot in North Lawrence with three properties, and a manager to handle his affairs. Unfortunately, the manager took advantage of Robert Legg. He failed to pay the taxes, allowed the property to go into foreclosure, and then purchased the land himself. As a result, Robert and all his sons worked in the mines (some of them at a very young age) or mills in order to support the ever-growing family.

The family’s misfortune continued when Ben’s mother died in 1908. According to descendents, Jane Legg suffered a nervous breakdown after the birth of her youngest child and was in frail health. Her brother was to travel from England in order to collect her and take her home, but she died before he arrived.

After his wife’s death, Robert Legg could not cope with childrearing. He placed two of his young daughters, Alice and Ellen, in the Sacred Heart Convent in Seattle where they remained for the next eight years. The youngest daughter, Sarah, was adopted. The other children, six boys and the oldest daughter remained with their father.

In 1910, Ben Legg was living with his father and his youngest brother George in the family home on Mill Street (today’s Sunset Way). Ben was working as a sawyer, and his father was doing odd jobs.

During this era, Ben and his brothers were supporters of the Industrial Workers of the World (IWW), a labor organization active in the Pacific Northwest between 1905 and the 1920s. The IWW, or Wobblies, campaigned to unionize lumberjacks and mill workers of the northwest. In addition to the marks their logging boots left on the floor of the house on Mill Street, one or more of the Legg boys inscribed the initials of the IWW on the chimney in the attic.

Between 1910 and 1916, Ben Legg married Olive Conners. In 1916 Olive gave birth to a daughter. According to family members, his wife died shortly after the child’s birth and Ben gave his daughter to Olive’s family to be raised.

Ben Legg (pictured at far right) at the Bellevue Hotel Bar, c. 1920. (IHS 72.21.14.37)

In the 1920 census, Ben Legg was listed as a widower, and was living in Issaquah with his father and younger brother, Arthur. All three worked as miners. After his wife’s death, Legg became something of a loner, although he was constantly accompanied by his adoring dog. Legg worked alternately in the woods and the mines, and was known to make moonshine with his brothers. In circa 1920 photograph, Ben is shown enjoying a drink with his peers at the Bellevue Hotel’s bar in Issaquah.

On March 28 of 1920, Legg had reportedly been drinking moonshine when he set out after his neighbor, Tom Hall. There is no explanation for Legg’s grudge with Hall, although the two apparently had a long-running feud. Legg supposedly emerged from his home at about 11 AM with his Winchester rifle in the crook of his arm. He fired two shots at Hall as the man fled his home, both of which missed their mark. Legg then followed Hall through town, shooting randomly. A bullet entered William Evans’ home and missed Mrs. Evans by 18 inches.

Another bullet struck the power station building (next door to the Grand Central Hotel). Legg reportedly stopped to threaten a Native American child who was walking along Mill Street with a companion. Both boys took off at a run and Legg fired into the distance, missing them. Legg also took a shot at Bert Hoye, missing him as well. Then, according to the Daily Times, Legg stopped in his tracks at the sight of a dog; the paper claimed that Ben Legg’s rage drained away then, due to his affection for canine companions. Bert Hoye disarmed Legg and led him home to be put to bed.

At 2 PM, King County Sheriff Matt Starwich and two deputies arrived to investigate. Legg fled his home at their arrival. They gave chase and spotted Ben crossing the creek, about to disappear into the trees beyond. They shot Legg twice, in his arm and just above his right hip. Their quarry was then easily apprehended.

On their way to the county hospital at Georgetown, Legg told Starwich, “Well, Matt, you would have been within your rights if you had killed me and I don’t see why you didn’t.” Presumably Ben’s injury healed he didn’t suffer any dire consequences from his arrest.

In 1930, Ben Legg was still living in Issaquah, alone. We can assume he had canine companionship although the federal census did not take pets into account.  He lived on Mill Street, probably in the family home where he spent most of his life, and was out of work. Family recollections agree that he lived out the rest of his life in Issaquah and died sometime after 1942.

It is clear from the historical records and family tales that Ben Legg’s first forty years were filled with hardship and loss. The press branded him “bad” in 1920 and the name stuck. But was he really bad? In the newspaper account, there is no mention of the town marshal (who was at that time either Burn Mullarkey or Jack Chalfa, both longtime residents of Issaquah) attempting to apprehend Legg. Consider also that Bert Hoye was hiding from Legg at one moment, and leading the man home to put him to bed the next. In 1920, Issaquah was a community of just under 80 people. In a town that small, people were acquainted with each other, and with each other’s quirks, tendencies and shortcomings. Although the reader may draw his or her own conclusions, evidence suggests that most of the townspeople in Issaquah did not consider Ben Legg to be malicious, just one of their own, having a bad day.

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