People-Person Addie Booth Was A Page Out Of History

Addie Booth was much more than a devoted domestic for one of Seattle's more noteworthy families: She was a page out of history.

Her grandfather was a freed slave who homesteaded a large ranch in Texas, where he founded Jerry's Quarters, a village still occupied by family.

Her own history was equally intriguing.

"This little lady had a flair, and captured people," said Ken Alhadeff, grandson of Mrs. Booth's employer, Joseph Gottstein, owner of the old Longacres racetrack, which closed in 1992. "At her funeral at Mount Zion (Baptist Church in Seattle's Central Area) there were white people, Asian people, black people, millionaires and homeless."

Mrs. Booth died of a stroke last Saturday, April 20. She was 93.

Born on her parents' homestead in Texas, Mrs. Booth attended Prairie View A&M College in Texas and taught school in Shreveport, La., before marrying William Booth, a railroad porter. The couple moved to Seattle during World War II, and Mrs. Booth took a manufacturing job at The Boeing Co.

She left Boeing for the Gottsteins in 1944 and had worked with the family since. She was still baking cakes for her "family" birthdays last year.

"Addie worked at the house, behind the tote board at the track every summer and at the condo downtown the rest of the year," said Alhadeff. "She went to the races every day. You could see her walking the miniature Doberman pinschers."

She was religious, but missed church on summer Sundays. She would get called on that by the Rev. Sam McKinney. He would ask where she had been, Alhadeff recalled, and she would answer: "At the track. And don't go giving me a hard time, because I was raising money to build your church!"

Mrs. Booth, who called everyone "Sugarman" or "Sugarwoman," was close to Seattle Mayor Norm Rice. Stuck in the crowd when Bill Clinton campaigned here in 1992 for the presidency, she yelled to Rice, who cleared the way to Clinton.

After getting her campaign kiss, she reportedly said, "Pack your bags, darlin'. We're goin' to Washington, D.C."

She was always working the angles to help others. If she heard someone needed food or money, she'd wangle money, goods or services from her well-heeled friends.

"Addie was active in civil rights and charities," Alhadeff said. "She wasn't as big as a minute, but she had a heart and soul as big as a tree."

Mrs. Booth's survivors include nine nieces and nephews. Her husband died eight years ago.