This blustery weather lately reminded me of a day this fall I heeded the age-old adage and went to fly a kite.

The day was bright, with gusts of wind perfect for the kite festival at Fort Casey’s parade site. As I made the turn on Wanamaker Road toward the Keystone Ferry, I rushed, hoping not to miss out on any stunning kite shows. I couldn’t help but slow down as I noticed something peculiar. I’ve always got my eyes peeled, looking for glimpses of Whidbey’s hidden past — and this time I think I’ve found it.

No matter how many times I’ve driven by Crockett Lake since that day, I couldn’t seem to figure out what those aligned posts were stretching across it. My father later informed me about some informative plaques hidden in the tall grasses at the Keystone area. The plaques were vague, so I knew I needed to start doing my own investigating. I headed to the library, talked to some locals, and visited the Island County Historical Society Museum. After putting the scattered puzzle pieces together, revealed were two fallen communities known as Little Chicago and Brooklyn.

It was in the 1890s that Coupeville’s land began to be plotted and pioneered at $50 to $100 a lot, which were premium prices those days. Property values were increasing and population was sprouting like flowers in spring. It was at this time the three new “Boom towns” were named: San de Fuca, Little Chicago, and Brooklyn.

The Keystone land, at that time known as Admiralty Head, became of high interest among investors like well-known locals Capt. George Morse, John Phinney and La Conner local, Dr. G. Calhoun. However, it was the North Pacific Land Company that began the land plotting and selling of Little Chicago and Brooklyn, and was probably responsible for their names. As plots of land sold at higher prices than those in Coupeville by 1891, newspaper headlines raved of a railroad terminus to be built within 12 months time by the Chicago and Skagit Valley Railroad Company.

Another arrival of prosperous opportunity came when two Port Townsend residents, Captain Hastings, and a businessman, Mr. Coon, began providing a ferry system crossing between Little Chicago and Port Townsend. The ferries “Wildwood” and “Enterprise” made their way across the waters every Sunday, arriving at Little Chicago’s shores. The travelers would then cross over Crockett Lake’s bridge, which was built in 1888 by another Port Townsend local, Mr. Tenholm. The visitors either relaxed under orchard trees near the Crockett property, eating a family picnic, or enjoyed a dance in the newly erected Crockett barn, which is still standing.

As the economy of Coupeville’s newest neighborhood was rising, the gold standard hit, and a financial crash took its toll in 1893. With new homes being occupied, a small store, and a hotel awaiting guests, the growing metropolis was at a standstill.

It wasn’t until Aug. 11, 1897, when the excavation for the military base — Fort Casey — came, that the people of the Keystone Spit began to raise hope once again for an economic push. That push came as employment opportunities elevated in efforts to build the new base. By 1900, it employed practically all men living in the Brooklyn and Little Chicago areas.

It seemed that everything was going well with the new base and employment at an all time high, until the night of Dec. 8, 1904. Civilian John Dollar was buying cigars at the Little Chicago bar, The Stump. Five shots were fired, John Dollar murdered and everyone running around crazy. Soldiers were blaming suspicious looking civilians, civilians were blaming soldiers. After questioning two soldiers by a civilian jury of six, the shooter was still unknown. John Dollar’s wife later claimed the shots were intended for owner Frank Groves, whose wife was cohering with Mr. Hart — the real assassin. A month later, young Kentuckian Hugh Baker was charged with attempted murder (January 1905) and later charged (February 1905) with the shooting at The Stump, but only sentenced to jail for the first. With no murderer pinpointed, Fort Casey raised a fence separating the base and the Admiralty Head areas, proclaiming to soldiers that they were banned from crossing over.

Later in 1912, Brooklyn started being recognized for its rich and productive land and the Keystone Sand and Gravel Company began business. They operated for about 15 years, sending by tug and scow, sand and smooth rocks of all sizes to Puget Sound businesses and also to Seattle for constructing major buildings. Between 1914 and 1926 ownership continued to change until 1928 when the company was finally bought out by Pioneer Sand and Gravel, which became bankrupt in two years.

With the ban from the base and the Great Depression, the community was faltering. The houses were looking shabby, the railroad never came, and talk of construction was denied, claiming it was not worthy of development. By the 1950s the buildings in Keystone were torn down and used at Fort Casey. Crockett Lake was drained— shrinking its size from 500 acres to ten — to make way for farmland. The Keystone Spit developed into an environmental preservation as time passed.

It took 20 years to keep it that way as companies plotted housing around 1970 to 1987. Activists called SWIFT took action in lawsuits claiming the land needed preserving, not housing. The Dillingham Company went as far as building two model homes, the Highway 20 road, and the two inlet roads, while in court proceedings to build the new community “Sea Breeze.”

In 1988, the land was finally granted to the Washington State Parks and Recreation Commission in a land exchange with the Olympic National Park. All that is left now are a few occupied homes, some remains from the gravel company, ruins from the military’s Secondary Fire Control Station and No. 12 Searchlight Tower flanked by Brooklyn and Little Chicago. And even though the last attempt at redevelopment were the two model homes, later used in fire exercises by the local fire station, you can still stand on the land and breathe in the smell of dinners cooking, hear people laughing as they walked the bridge, and see soldiers courting the local girls. It’s as if nothing has changed, it’s just preserved in time.