The Intent and Purpose of Link 1 Line

Sound Transit’s Link 1 Line is the backbone of Seattle’s light rail system—a 40-plus mile north-south corridor that connects Lynnwood in the north to Federal Way in the south (with eventual extensions planned to Everett and Tacoma). The line serves as a high-capacity transit artery, connecting major employment hubs, residential areas, and key destinations like downtown Seattle, the University of Washington, and Sea-Tac Airport.

The intent is straightforward: provide a reliable, high-capacity transit option that operates independently of road traffic, offering consistent travel times and encouraging people to leave their cars behind. It’s electric, it’s fast, and it’s designed to move tens of thousands of people daily along the region’s most congested corridor.

But here’s the thing: Link 1 Line isn’t just a transit line—it’s a strategic choice. It’s built as a spine, a single continuous line that runs north-south, rather than as a network of intersecting light rail lines like Portland’s MAX system. This decision, and the agency that made it, tells us a lot about how Seattle approaches regional transit.

Sound Transit: An Odd Creature of Washington State Politics

Sound Transit, officially the Central Puget Sound Regional Transit Authority, was created in 1993 by the Washington State Legislature. But here’s where it gets interesting: Sound Transit isn’t your typical transit agency. It’s a special-purpose district with taxing authority, created specifically because the region needed a way to fund and build transit infrastructure that crossed multiple county and city boundaries.

The political structure is, frankly, weird. Sound Transit’s board consists of 18 members—elected officials from King, Pierce, and Snohomish counties, plus representatives from the cities within the transit district, and the Washington State Secretary of Transportation. This means the agency is governed by politicians who have other jobs, other constituencies, and other priorities. It’s not a directly elected transit board like some cities have; it’s a collection of mayors, county executives, and council members who happen to also make transit decisions.

This structure was created because the region needed a way to coordinate transit across jurisdictional boundaries. Individual cities couldn’t build regional transit on their own. King County Metro could run buses, but building light rail that connected Everett to Tacoma required something bigger—something that could collect taxes across multiple counties and make decisions that served the region, not just individual cities.

The Tax Revenue Collection Model: Voter-Approved Everything

Sound Transit’s funding model is unique, and it’s both a strength and a weakness. The agency relies on voter-approved taxes within its service district, which includes parts of King, Pierce, and Snohomish counties. These taxes include:

• Sales Tax: 1.4% sales tax on purchases within the district
• Motor Vehicle Excise Tax (MVET): 0.8% tax on vehicle registrations
• Rental Car Tax: 0.8% tax on rental cars
• Property Tax: Up to 25 cents per $1,000 of assessed value (with annual increases capped at 1%)

This funding structure means Sound Transit has a dedicated revenue stream, but it also means every major expansion requires going back to voters. The agency can’t just decide to build something—it has to convince voters to approve the taxes to pay for it. This has led to a pattern of phased expansion: Sound Transit goes to voters with a package, gets approval, builds what it promised, then goes back years later for the next phase.

The 1996 “Sound Move” ballot measure created the agency and funded the initial light rail line. The 2008 “ST2” measure extended the system. The 2016 “ST3” measure approved the massive expansion that’s currently being built. Each time, voters had to approve new taxes, and each time, the agency had to deliver on its promises before asking for more.

This creates a conservative, incremental approach to transit expansion. Sound Transit can’t be too ambitious because it has to win elections. It can’t move too fast because it has to prove it can deliver. And it can’t easily change course because major decisions are locked into voter-approved packages.

Why a Spine Instead of a Network?

The decision to build Link 1 Line as a spine—a single north-south line—rather than a network of intersecting lines like Portland’s MAX system, was driven by several factors, some practical and some political.

Geographic Reality: Seattle’s topography is challenging. Water, hills, and valleys create natural barriers. Building a single spine along the I-5 corridor makes sense because that’s where the people are, where the jobs are, and where the existing transportation infrastructure already exists. A grid system would require crossing Lake Washington, tunneling through hills, and dealing with terrain that makes multiple intersecting lines expensive and complex.

Resource Concentration: Sound Transit’s funding model—dependent on voter approval and limited tax revenue—meant the agency had to maximize impact with limited resources. Building one high-capacity spine that serves the highest-demand corridor makes more sense than spreading resources across multiple lines. One line with high ridership is better than multiple lines with lower ridership, at least from a cost-per-rider perspective.

Phased Expansion Strategy: The spine serves as a foundation. Once you have a strong central line, you can branch off from it. Future lines can connect to the spine, creating a network over time. But you start with the backbone, the thing that connects the major destinations, and build from there.

Political Compromise: The spine connects Everett, Seattle, and Tacoma—the three major cities in the region. This wasn’t accidental. To get voters in all three areas to approve taxes, Sound Transit had to promise service to all three. A single spine that serves all three cities was the political solution: everyone gets something, everyone pays, and the line serves the highest-demand corridor.

Operational Simplicity: A single line is easier to operate, easier to maintain, and easier to expand incrementally. You don’t need complex interchanges, you don’t need to coordinate multiple lines, and you can add capacity by running more trains on the same track. It’s simpler, and simplicity has value when you’re building something this complex.

The Portland Comparison

Portland’s MAX system is different. It’s a network of intersecting lines that form a grid-like pattern across the metro area. The Blue Line, Red Line, Green Line, Yellow Line, and Orange Line all intersect and connect, giving riders multiple ways to get from point A to point B.

Portland’s system works because Portland is flatter, has fewer geographic barriers, and was planned as a network from the start. The city’s urban growth boundary and land-use planning created a more compact, transit-friendly development pattern. And TriMet, Portland’s transit agency, had different funding mechanisms and political structures that allowed for a more network-oriented approach.

Seattle’s spine approach makes sense for Seattle’s geography, politics, and funding model. But it also means the system is less flexible. If you want to go east-west, you’re out of luck until Sound Transit builds those lines (which it’s doing, slowly, with the 2 Line to Bellevue and Redmond). If you’re not near the spine, you’re not getting light rail service.

The Trade-offs

Building a spine instead of a network has consequences. The spine serves the highest-demand corridor well, but it leaves other areas underserved. It’s efficient for north-south travel, but it doesn’t create the kind of network coverage that makes transit truly convenient for everyone.

Sound Transit is addressing this, gradually. The 2 Line will branch east to Bellevue and Redmond. Future lines are planned. But the spine-first approach means it takes decades to build a comprehensive network, and in the meantime, large parts of the region are left without high-capacity transit.

The funding model compounds this. Because Sound Transit has to go to voters for every major expansion, progress is slow. The agency can’t just decide to build a new line—it has to wait for the next ballot measure, convince voters to approve it, then spend years building what was approved. This creates a cycle of incremental expansion that, while politically sustainable, doesn’t move as fast as the region’s growth demands.

The Future

Link 1 Line is growing. Extensions to Everett and Tacoma are planned. The 2 Line is opening. More lines are in the works. But the spine-first strategy means Seattle’s light rail system will always be fundamentally different from Portland’s network approach.

Is that good or bad? It depends on what you value. The spine serves the highest-demand corridor efficiently. It’s a solid foundation for future expansion. And it reflects the political and geographic realities of the Puget Sound region.

But it also means that, for now, Seattle’s light rail system is less comprehensive than it could be. It serves some people very well and others not at all. It’s a backbone, but it’s not yet a network.

Sound Transit’s odd structure—its voter-approved taxes, its board of politicians, its incremental expansion model—created this spine. And that spine is both a testament to what’s possible when a region commits to transit and a reminder of the compromises that come with building transit in a complex political environment.

The Link 1 Line is impressive. It’s also incomplete. And that’s the story of Sound Transit: ambitious enough to build something remarkable, constrained enough that it takes decades to finish (or in many cases even start) the job.

The settlers were struggling. They were unprepared, they were vulnerable, and they were in a land they didn’t understand. Chief Sealth could have let them fail. He could have driven them out. Instead, he chose a path of diplomacy and assistance, recognizing that conflict would only bring more suffering to his people. He negotiated treaties, provided food and knowledge, and essentially saved these settlers from their own incompetence.

It’s a story that should make us all uncomfortable. The man whose name would eventually grace the city was treated with less respect than he deserved, and the settlers who benefited from his generosity would go on to systematically displace and marginalize the very people who had saved them. The Duwamish people, despite Chief Sealth’s efforts, were pushed out of their ancestral lands, and to this day, the Duwamish Tribe remains federally unrecognized — a final insult in a long history of broken promises.

The Interurban: Seattle’s Early Growth Engine

Fast forward a few decades, and Seattle was starting to become something more than a frontier town. By the turn of the 20th century, the city was growing, but it was constrained by geography. The Puget Sound region is a weird place—mountains, water, and valleys creating natural barriers between communities. Everett to the north, Seattle in the middle, Tacoma to the south. These weren’t just separate cities; they were separated by geography that made connection difficult.

Enter the Interurban Railway. Starting in 1902, the Puget Sound Electric Railway began connecting these disparate communities. The line ran from Everett through Seattle and down to Tacoma—a 75-mile route that fundamentally changed how people lived and worked in the region.

This wasn’t just a train line; it was a growth mechanism. The Interurban made it possible for people to live in one city and work in another. It enabled the development of suburbs and satellite communities. It created economic corridors and allowed the region to function as a cohesive metropolitan area rather than isolated towns.

The Interurban ran through what would become some of the most important commercial and residential corridors in the region. Stations sprouted up along the route, and communities grew around them. The line carried commuters, freight, and mail. It was the backbone of regional development, and it ran on electricity cutting-edge technology for its time.

But here’s the thing about infrastructure: it requires maintenance, investment, and political will. By the 1930s, the automobile was becoming dominant, and the Interurban faced competition from highways and buses. The Great Depression hit, ridership declined, and the private companies running the service struggled. By 1939, the last Interurban train ran, and the tracks were torn up.

From Rails to Trails

The Interurban was gone, but the corridor it created remained. Over the decades, parts of the right-of-way were developed, but significant portions remained undeveloped. In the 1980s and 1990s, a movement began to convert these old rail corridors into trails—the Interurban Trail system.

Today, you can walk or bike along sections of the Interurban Trail, following roughly the same path that trains once traveled. It’s a nice amenity, but it’s also a reminder of what we lost. A trail is great for recreation, but it doesn’t move people at scale. It doesn’t enable the kind of regional connectivity that the Interurban once provided.

The Slow Return: Link 1 Line

Now, decades after the Interurban was torn up, we’re slowly rebuilding what we destroyed. Albeit not on the original route, but connecting the same core cities. Sound Transit’s Link 1 Line is gradually extending north and south, following many of the same corridors that the Interurban once served. It’s a slow process—agonizingly slow for those of us who understand what’s possible—but it’s happening.

The Link 1 Line connects Everett to Seattle to Tacoma, just like the Interurban did over a century ago. It’s electric, just like the Interurban was. It’s serving the same function: enabling regional connectivity and acting as a growth mechanism for the area.

But here’s the difference: we’re spending billions of dollars and decades of time to rebuild something we already had. We’re learning lessons that were already learned a hundred years ago. We’re rediscovering that transit enables growth, that regional connectivity matters, and that electric rail can transform how a metropolitan area functions.

It’s progress, but it’s also a reminder of how short-sighted we can be. We tore up a regional rail system that was working, replaced it with highways and sprawl, and now we’re slowly piecing it back together at enormous cost.

The Legacy

Seattle’s story is one of contradictions. A city named after a chief who saved settlers who didn’t deserve his grace. A region that built world-class transit infrastructure, tore it up, and is now slowly rebuilding it. A place that understands the value of regional connectivity but took nearly a century to act on that understanding.

The Interurban was more than a train line — it was a growth mechanism that shaped the Puget Sound region. Its removal shaped the region too, just in ways we’re still dealing with: sprawl, traffic, and disconnected communities. The Link 1 Line is the slow, expensive correction to that mistake.

As we watch the Link 1 Line extend mile by mile, station by station, the city and people are not just building transit — we’re rediscovering what Chief Sealth and the Interurban already knew: that connection matters, that regional cooperation enables growth, and that sometimes the best path forward is to learn from the past, even when that past includes uncomfortable truths about who we are and how we got here.

Now, the story of the Chief and this line might not seem connected right now, but I wanted to detail these two topics as I’ll be referencing back to them in the coming days with a number of posts. Be sure to subscribe and you’ll get to read about the interconnected nature of it all!