Jackson: King County re-naming gets confusing

I probably should not be doing this.

But when my buddy, who shall go nameless, double-dog dared me . . . .

It all started when another buddy, also nameless, sent me a copy of a 1986 resolution passed by the King County, Washington, County Council, which “renamed” King County, King County.

Huh?

Right.

King County, which had been officially designated King County for 134 years, became King County.

Now what is going on here?

And why should this deserve a double-dog dare?

Well, here is the story in a nutshell.

In 1852, the Oregon Territorial Legislature named one of its counties after William Rufus Devane King, who had just been elected vice president of the United States. King, some of you will recall, was from Alabama. He was and is the highest elected official Alabama has ever had – if vice presidents are really elected.

When the territory was divided, King County became part of what later became the state of Washington and remained there under that name until 1986 when the leaders of the county decided to “rename” it King County.

Are you with me?

What brought all this on was the realization by the King County Council that William Rufus Devane King was a slaveholder – a “gentle slave monger” according to John Quincy Adams, who the council quoted on the subject.

And because “the citizens of King County believe that the ownership of another human being is an injustice against humanity,” the King County Council declared King County would no longer be named after William Rufus Devane King but instead would be named “in honor of Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.”

Now folks, it is customary in this country to name and rename landmarks to make a political statement. Where I live was once known as Benton County, named after Sen. Thomas Hart Benton of Missouri. But when it was discovered that Benton’s position on slavery was not politically correct in the eyes of slaveholding Alabamians, the name was changed to honor Sen. John C. Calhoun of South Carolina, whose stand on slavery was more acceptable.

That bit of name changing tells us a lot about how people thought back then.

And so does changing the honoree out in Washington State, though I can’t help but wonder why it took King County folks so long to work up their indignation (and almost another decade for the Washington legislature to make the change official.)

However, that is not why I got the double-dog dare and why, from this point on, I might be raising questions that ought not to be raised.

But here I go anyway.

Raising.

Did the King County Council know that William Rufus Devane King might very well have been the highest elected gay official in the history of these United States?

Might well have been.

Let me explain.

While in Congress, King developed a close relationship with James Buchanan of Pennsylvania (who was later elected president, so Buchanan might have been the highest elected gay official in the United States, making King the second highest – but let’s don’t go there now).

The two men, lifelong bachelors, lived together in Washington, D.C., and their relationship became the source of some speculation and gossip. That much of this came from political enemies clouds the issue, so references to King as “Miss Nancy” and “Buchanan’s wife” must be taken with a grain of salt. Nevertheless at least one of King’s few surviving letters to Buchanan can, and has been, read to reveal more.

Still, those were different times and friendships were expressed in different ways.

Or were they?

And here is where I got double-dog dared.

In reading of the “renaming” of King County, I began to wonder if the gay community out there knew what was taking place. I mentioned this to my buddy and was dared, double-dog dared, to write about it.

Which is what I am doing.

You see, Seattle, county seat of King County, is second only to San Francisco in the number of people who identify themselves as gay, lesbian or bisexual. Did they realize that by “renaming” the county the council was denying them the opportunity to honor someone who might well have been one of their own?

Might have been.

The record is anything but clear.

And it never will be.

For when William Rufus Devane King died on his Alabama plantation in 1853, his nieces burned most of his correspondence with Buchanan. On Buchanan’s death his nieces did the same.

But maybe the Seattle gay community knew of the rumors about King and decided that having your county named after a gay slaveholder was not the image of gayness that they wanted to project to everyone else.

That could be it.

Or maybe they just don’t like Alabamians.

Harvey H. (“Hardy”) Jackson teaches history at Jacksonville State University and is an editorial and op-ed writer for The Star. He can be reached at [email protected].