We've Moved

Ecology of Absence now resides at www.preservationresearch.com. Please change your links and feeds.

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Taking the (revised) bus

I'm happy about the new Metrolink branch, but I've yet to find time to ride it. I have, however, spent the past three days immersed in the bus side of Metro Redefined, and it is definitely not as cool as the new Metrolink.

Bus schedules and times and drivers have changed, with little announcement. I've had to tell coworkers and strangers on the street about the changes--a number of them have not heard. On the bus on Monday, the bus driver was shouting the new connections as he drove, and lots of people were surprised and confused. One angry man got off the bus, cursing the fact that he had no idea how he'd get to work that day without the #52 Clayton South County, and that he'd not heard anything about it.

I am particularly thankful that I was able to tell my coworker S about the fact that our bus route changed before she tried to take the bus. She had not heard a word about the change. She is a senior who takes the bus around 4something in the morning and lives in a rougher part of the North Side. She did not need to end up standing out there alone at that bus stop at that hour, in the dark, wondering what happened to the bus.

If Metro had done something as simple as making all bus drivers announce the changes two weeks in advance, a lot of frustration, problems, and anger could have been avoided. I also think that giant "THIS ROUTE IS CHANGING. HERE ARE THE CHANGES!" posters on each bus would have been useful. I'm sure Metro would counter that they updated their website (even though it doesn't reach a lot of transit users, and even though the pdf system map of Missouri was still outdated when I tried to consult it this afternoon) and that they printed 20 copies of a brochure about it one time, but with something this important and basic, you have to spell it out as simply and loudly as you can to make sure that everyone hears.

As for my experiences trying to get around:

I have stood at the bus stop for half an hour for the past three mornings in a row, trying to catch my bus. The first day I was way too early for the readjusted time and stood there for almost half an hour until the bus finally showed up at 7:25.

Okay, I thought. The bus gets here at 7:25 now. The next morning I was out there at 7:20, but saw neither hide nor hair of a bus for 28 minutes.

So, this morning, after extensive perusal of the schedule, I got there even earlier, but again found myself standing there for over thirty minutes waiting for a bus that is allegedly spaced half an hour apart.

So when does the bus get there?

This is not particularly different from my experiences with the pre-Redefined Metro. One day my bus would be at my corner at 7:28, the next day 7:28, and then BAM! 7:46! And then 7:35 the day after that! Then 7:27! I started finding myself late to work pretty often, which was exasperating. My boss is very understanding, but it's still sloppy, and I am still paranoid from previous jobs I've had where employers were, ahem, not transit-friendly.

And no matter how forgiving my boss can be about transit-caused lateness, it still doesn't change how stupid I'd feel when I rushed out the door at 7:25 and skipped packing a lunch, only to stand there for 20 minutes because the bus was slow that day. Or, on the flip side, there was the other feeling of stupidity that came when I'd tell myself "The bus has been really late for the past six weekdays! I will give myself two more minutes to get my lunch together since it's only 7:25!" ...and I'd walk out the door to see that the bus had decided to come early at 7:26 that day, and I was gonna be half an hour late to work.

(And we'll gloss over my lousy attempts to complete errands and social outings that used to be no problem before the bus schedule changes--suffice it to say, after the amount of time I've wasted waiting for transit over the past three days, I ended up walking home from Downtown this evening because I didn't want to wait at a bus stop for one more minute.)

But this ain't all bad. After I finish typing this entry, I'm going to take constructive action and wipe all the plaster dust off my bike and get it ready for riding tomorrow morning. With the shape I'm in, I'm going to have to start by biking to my bus transfer point and taking the bus the rest of the way to work. But with practice, I'll be able to ride all the way to work.

Actually, one of my neighbors just got a job at another Midtown megainstitution, and we've agreed to start biking to work together once I'm in suitable shape. I'm looking forward to it. I need the physical activity, and it will be a nice chit-chat/bonding/kvetching/plotting-n-planning opportunity.

You might even say that my daily commute will be redefined.

Architectural Heritage Threatened By Metal Theft



This is St. Stephen's Lutheran Church at the northwest corner of Pendelton and Olive streets in the Central West End, just west of the old Gaslight Square area. On Friday of last week, church members noticed that the original copper guttering was missing. Then, they noticed that the flashing and other copper pieces from the roof were gone, too.

With limited means and no insurance on the church, the congregation brought out the buckets to endure the weekend's rain. Hopefully, a more permanent repair can be made with the help of generous St. Louisans and the Lutheran synod.

However, no building will be very safe as long as metal recyclers are allowed an exception under city law that requires dealers of reused items to keep on file a photo ID card of each person who redeems items for cash. With metal prices high recently, thieves have been actively stripping buildings both vacant and occupied, with no end in sight. The Board of Aldermen needs to pass a bill requiring each metal recycler to obtain a photo ID from each customer before paying for their load of metal. That would guarantee that police officers investigating thefts can actually have a basis other than hearsay for investigation, and prosecutors can file charges against metal thieves. Honest scrappers who glean alleys and do gut demolition work would be unaffected. Metal dealers might experience a loss in profits, but would be more protected against charges ever being filed against them for accepting stolen property.

Theft of architectural items is as big a threat to the historic fabric of St. Louis as bad urban planning. St. Stephen's Church is seriously at risk of sustaining major damage until roof repairs can be made, and that may take awhile. Vacant buildings that have their guttering stolen don't even have half of the chance of surviving that an occupied building does. We cannot afford to lose buildings so that thieves and metal dealers can make a few bucks; the consequences will live on long after they spend the money.

St. Stephen's originally was St. George's Episcopal Church, and was built in 1891 from plans by Kivas Tully. Tully, who also designed parts of Christ Church Cathedral downtown, had conceived of this building as a wing of a larger sanctuary, but that plan was never built. The church is a key part of a pending expansion of the national Central West End Historic District drafted by Landmarks Association. This expansion basically restores the proposed original boundaries of the district north to the alley south of Delmar (but including Delmar Baptist Church at Delmar and Pendelton) and east to Pendleton.

Chairman Callow, Boring Buildings and a Denied Demolition Permit

At its Monday meeting, the Preservation Board elected a new chairperson: Richard Callow, the public relations consultant who edits Mayor Slay's campaign website. New board member David Richardson nominated Callow after Melanie Fathman nominated architect Anthony Robinson, a reasonable voice who would have done well in the position. Callow received the votes of Richardson, Luis Porello, Mary "One" Johnson (who presided over the vote rather clumsily), John Burse and new member Michael Killeen. Robinson received Fathman's vote, and the nominated parties abstained. Mary Johnson was the only nominee for vice chairperson, although she so quickly called the vote after her own nomination was seconded that observers at the crowded meeting wondered if there was a chance for another nomination.

Callow demonstrated the tenor of his chairmanship by conducting the meeting much more efficiently than usual, although hopefully his motivation is to respect people's time and not to glide over potential controversy. His customary pointed questions certainly enhance his chairmanship and give good direction to debate often marred by divergence and anecdote.

Is Callow's election a political move or a pragmatic one? While the Preservation Board's decisions can be overturned by less democratic bodies like the Planning Commission, the decisions often hold sway public perception of urban design and preservation issues. The approval of a plan or demolition permit by the Preservation Board can give proponents great backup for painting opponents as unreasonable. Time will tell what game, if any, is being played here.

One wonders if Mayor Slay will again write about the Preservation Board in his blog, given the new circumstances.

The Board unanimously granted preliminary approval to a bad new development project that would demolish the South Grand YMCA for a stale, wide block of Chicago-style tedium. Claire Nowak-Boyd registered an objection.

Another unanimous vote included final approval of the condominium building at Euclid and Lindell proposed by Opus Development, which although improved in design has a few problems with the scale of its base along Euclid and with the unmitigated expanse of its shaft. Alderwoman Lyda Krewson and politico Lou Hamilton were in attendance, presumably to monitor this vote.

The Preservation Board denied the Department of Public Safety's request to demolish the house at 5309 Cabanne. The denial seems superfluous given the approval of demolition of the YMCA Building, which seems better posed to find reuse in the near future than the house. Also, of course, denial of the permit will not stop water, wind and fire from taking their toll. However, I am glad that the Board and Cultural Resources Office staff still regard the integrity of Visitation Park as an important thing to preserve. That neighborhood stands to benefit from the creep of the Delmar Loop's success.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Blaze on Cook Avenue Last Night

From the website of television station KSDK comes the bad news that the two limestone-faced, turreted houses at the southeast corner of Cook and Spring avenues burned last night.

A glance this morning showed that the masonry walls are intact, while the roof timbers on each building were destroyed. The building on the west, 3658-60 Cook Avenue, has been owned by "Dion I. Cryer and Joe Witthaus LLC" since January 2006 while the building on the east, 3654-56 Cook, has been owned by the city's Land Reutilization Authority since 2000. Hopefully the owners of 3658-60 Cook have insurance, but it's unlikely.


Thanks to Shawnee Levrault for the tip.

Monday, August 28, 2006

Thinking About East St. Louis Vernacular Buildings

These past two evenings have taken me on business near East St. Louis. I have driven its rugged streets at twilight, passing modest brick and frame homes, scattered one- and two-story commercial buildings, broken factories and vacant land. The landscape today seems neither steeped in history nor carelessly updated; it hovers somewhere in between tenuously. East St. Louis has its proud center city and its large industrial districts, but much of the city consists of areas that lack the architectural elements that make for memory. The vacant land, much of it grown with scrub trees, certainly also works against the city's ability to present itself as someplace definite.

I wonder what sort of future lies in store for a city that lacks a strong character in real life yet carries a negative media stereotype that, however far from reality, is more likely to be digested by people than glimpses of frame bungalows and rough-brick storefronts.

What will become of a city whose lifeblood was industry and commerce when even the most optimistic prediction has it regaining only a shell of those forces? The modesty of the neighborhoods of East St. Louis may be in part due to the overwhelming style of its packinghouses, foundries and factories, which even in ruins are among the region's most impressive buildings. Downtown East St. Louis also was a place with buildings of great presence, like the Spivey Building and the Majestic Theater.

Nowadays, in an era where the notion of a city center is not even taken seriously by its supposed proponents but where exceptionality and deviation are required stylistic components for the middle class, the future of East St. Louis does not make visual sense. While its homes are sturdy and lovely and its neighborhoods comfortable, they don't possess what most people seek. At least not today.

After all, St. Louis city vernacular buildings were declared obsolete in 1947, but by the 1970s people were clamoring for brick tenements and townhouses. Now, these buildings rarely sell for less than $100,000 in the most desired neighborhoods.

Perhaps there is a time when appreciation of the East St. Louis vernacular will come full circle. The houses are smaller than many new homes, and offer large lawns without the excesses of the far suburbs, and much closer to what is at least one of the centers of the region, downtown. What may seem banal today may seem like a welcome retreat from giant homes and garish styles tomorrow -- if the East St. Louis common stock of building survives that long.

Louis Sullivan at 150


Louis Sullivan was born in Boston on September 3, 1856. Admirers have launched Louis Sullivan at 150, a series of tours, lectures and other events that celebrate the Sullivan sesquicentennial. The festivities happen in Chicago, although there is no stopping folks in cities with other Sullivan buildings of some importance of coordinating celebrations.

Part of the Sullivan at 150 program is a three-day symposium October 13-15; a tour of the interior of the Charnley-Persky House led by John Vinci, who oversaw the home's restoration; and, most impressive although mostly coincidental, the completion of the replication of the cornice on Sullivan's 1899 Schlesinger & Meyer Department Store Building (now the Carson, Pirie, Scott and Company Building).

Friday, August 25, 2006

Preservation Board Has Two New Members, Will Elect New Chair

While the agenda for Monday's Preservation Board meeting has not been posted online, two items are certain:

The Board will induct two new members recently appointed by mayor Francis Slay, one to fill an open seat and one to replace a current member. (The rumor is that Melanie Fathman has resigned.)

The Board will elect a new Chairperson.

The meeting begins at 4:00 p.m. Monday, August 28, in the 12th floor conference room at 1015 Locust Street.

"A"



One letter in the Famous-Barr sign on the Railway Exchange Building comes down last week. Photograph by Lynn Josse.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Macy's Letters Go Up, A Legacy Comes Down

Yesterday, crews arrived to downtown's Railway Exchange Building to begin installation of the giant Macy's sign that will replace the already-removed Famous-Barr sign atop the building. (Famous-Barr's midtown warehouse already sports new lighted Macy's signs, although at night the old signs show behind them and read "M--Y's and "MA---S" instead of a confident "MACY'S.") This passage of signage is the fulfillment of a year-long transition that ends the lifespan of St. Louis' last local department store chain. Famous-Barr was an original tenant of the Railway Exchange, built in 1913.

While the May Company had long allowed the downtown flagship to diminish in quality and allure, the store was a reminder that St. Louis was once a vibrant metropolitan city that had developed fine examples of the modern downtown department store. After the other downtown department stores -- notable Scruggs-Vandervoort-Barney in 1967 and Stix, Baer and Fuller in 1984 -- closed, the downtown Famous-Barr remained open and seemed like it would be open forever. Its hours cut back over the years, and its patrons were a small group toward the end. Yet the cultural value of its presence showed that downtown St. Louis still kept one tradition alive, and not in a second-rate fashion but in a particularly local way.

Now the downtown space will be occupied by one of the hundreds of Macy's stores, a fact that insults both St. Louis and New York. Both cities have lost the uniqueness of the brand identity, albeit slowly: the stores had long become chains, changed ownership and standardized merchandise long before Federated bought both Macy's and Famous-Barr. Now, the slump hastens and only the most culturally deprived shoppers will be enthusiastic to shop at Macy's, a name that now denotes only a department store rather than a certain sort of store.

Of course, the downtown department store itself is an endangered species, and has been close to extinction since the late 1960's. Now that downtown St. Louis real estate is highly valued again, perhaps the downtown store here is about to go extinct. The value of the Railway Exchange Building to Federated Department Stores exceeds the value of the store inside. With their move to cut jobs downtown, there will be empty office floors to remodel. The company is also planning to consolidate the store on the five lower levels of the building, vacating two floors used by Famous-Barr. Could it be only a matter of time before the store is liquidated and the building converted to condominiums? The crews working on converting the store have not been remodeling the space as much as putting a new coat of paint on surfaces. The work looks tentative, as does Federated's commitment to downtown.

Whatever happens to the downtown Macy's store, the period of the urban department store is effectively over in St. Louis. We have lost our last downtown department store, a passing that even forty years ago would have attracted more attention than it does today. With the combined factors of population dispersal, market dominance by discount and specialty retailers, the retail downtown centered on the Galleria shopping mall and the May Company's own treatment of the store, the downtown Famous-Barr is mourned by few. Contrast that with Chicago, where Federated is stamping the meaningless Macy's brand on the meaningful and loved downtown Marshall Field's store. This move provoked anger and a petition campaign, neither of which prevented the destruction there because neither caused any economic consequence to Federated's decision.

The cultural consequences of the loss of downtown department stores and of downtown commercial culture are pretty big, though. Still, as long as few people recognize those consequences (and people have had fifty years to recognize them), what difference does closing the the last local downtown department store make to all but a handful of people?

Monday, August 21, 2006

Carpenters Building Lives On (For Buyers Only)

Apparently, parts of the Carpenters Building live on, at a price.

Some person or persons doing business on eBay as "St. Louis Architectural Artifacts" (not to be confused with the upstanding St. Louis Architectural Art Company) has a "Terra Cotta atomic circle in a square" listed for sale. An annotation reads: "Terra Cotta atomic circle in a square 19 inches by 18 inches by 4 inches thick circa 1920's came from Carpenter's hall on Grand and Martin Luther King St Louis Mo."

Minimum bid is $600.00. Presumably, this person has had more pieces of the building, but most of them probably aren't in St. Louis.

Despite Some Flaws, MoDESA is Good for St. Louis

I'm definitely a supporter of the Missouri Downtown [and Rural] Economic Stimulus Act (MoDESA), which permits cities to take up to 50 percent of both state sales taxes and state withholding taxes generated by new development projects. The law gives cities up to 25 years to continue using this share of state taxes, and restricts use to infrastructure needs.

As someone who works downtown and who has been walking the streets of downtown since I was a child, I am excited at the prospect for infrastructure improvements downtown. Beyond Washington Avenue, most downtown streets could use anything from repaving to new sidewalks. All of downtown could stand new street, consistent lighting -- the current distribution of new, fancier lights around new projects gives the appearance that the city doesn't feel that the basics are important for all of downtown. Much of downtown infrastructure has deteriorated past the point of acceptability.

Of course, the city has not had the means to make big repairs. Much of downtown's current infrastructure dates to 1950's-era projects that were built when the city still had a residential population of around 856,000 people. The sort of public works consistency possible with that tax base is a distant memory nowadays, although completely necessary to attract new residents and business owners -- and retain existing ones.

MoDESA is akin to the State Historic Tax Credit in that it levels things financially for older areas of great cultural importance that have special economic troubles that may otherwise be exceedingly difficult to address. Like tax credits, the MoDESA money is not a subsidy but an allowance to apply revenue generated in these areas to improvement projects -- and since it applies to any area in the state that matches certain criteria, it doesn't unfairly benefit cities or small towns. It just gives them some help.

There are political problems with using the money, and St. Louis Mayor Francis Slay has already made moves that are suspect. For instance, the first MoDESA project was originally going to be based entirely on projects by the Pyramid Companies, and was revised to include one other project by another developer. However, this proposal will target the desolate Tucker Boulevard streetscape for improvements -- long overdue.

A disappointing move on the Mayor's part is his appointment of the local authority to oversee the MoDESA money. There are nine voting members and two non-voting members, including the mayor. The roster of the mayor's eight appointments consists entirely of longtime political players, five of whom are members of city development boards, one of whom works for St. Louis University, and one of whom is Downtown St. Louis Partnership head Jim Cloar. Most glaring is the absence of a single downtown resident. Isn't this the mayor who mentions downtown residents in every speech about development in the city?

MoDESA, however, is a good thing for the city and state despite the expected flaws in its application.

Friday, August 18, 2006

Simulated Dividers

Last night, on our way to a late-night snack at Atomic Cowboy in "The Grove," we happened upon a set of old doors in an alley off of Taylor Avenue. One of the doors was in great shape, and I loaded it into our truck. The other one was a fancy interior door, with twelve divided lights paired in two columns (this type is often called a "French" door). But I immediately noticed that the bottom four lights were missing their muntin dividers, and were replaced by a single pane of glass with thin firring strips nailed behind to simulate the look of the missing muntins.

It's one thing to look at a brand new factory-made window sash or door, and see flat simulated dividers tacked over a solid pane. The simulation never can replicate the depth of dividers on an authentic wooden sash or door.

It's another thing to see real dividers side by side with cheap replication on one old door. This really shows how ridiculous simulated dividers are, and how far from the authentic divider (a real muntin) they are.

Needless to say, we left the second door in the alley.

(Learn more about window and door terminology here.)

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Blairmont Goes to the Mall

The two-and-a-half-story, side-gabled house at 1416 Montgomery Street is Old North St. Louis is fairly nondescript. Its front elevation probably bowed years ago, and was taken down and relayed with a harder modern brick and newer fenestration. The rebuilt front wall is boring, although the side and rear walls show the house to be a late-19th-century house that could be restored to some more appropriate appearance.

But doing that work would take imagination, patience and a faith in the neighborhood' renewal. You see, this modest dwelling is right across the alley from the so-called 14th Street Mall, the two blocks of commercial buildings fronting a part of north 14th Street closed in 1971 to form a pedestrian mall. The mall conversion killed the vitality of the commercial district, and by the 1990s only a few stores remained open. Today, the only occupied storefronts on the mall are a hair salon and a storefront church. Every other first floor is boarded or broken in, and the upper floors of the multi-story buildings have been empty even longer.

All of this is set to change, though, as a major collaborative redevelopment project is in the works. Most of the buildings on the mall are now owned by a partnership between the Old North St. Louis Restoration Group and the Regional Housing and Community Development Alliance, two organizations whose work is often miraculous. Imagine what they might do with 1416 Montgomery Street if they had the chance!

All we can do now is imagine, because at a recent Sheriff's tax sale the house and its accompanying garage sold to one of the Blairmont companies. Although their purchases in Old North have slowed, they still wanted to buy a derelict building that needs to be included in the 14th Street project.

Perhaps Blairmont can rehab the building better and faster than the partnership. Perhaps I am a dog person. Perhaps someone will rebuild the buildings cleared for the Arch. Perhaps asbestos is actually a nutrient...

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Our last Cine 16 showing ever is tomorrow night.

It is with a heavy heart and watery eyes that I announce that tomorrow will be Michael's and my last Cine16 showing, ever. The series will continue, but we have chosen to cease our involvement. This was entirely our own decision. This blog entry is not the place to discuss why.

That said, I am honestly very excited about the program we have for you tomorrow (Thursday) night.

The theme is Wheels, Wings, Water & Air. The films are all about transportation. It's an interesting mix. We have Trader Vic's Used Cars, in which an experienced used car dealer explains the business. We have Fast Is Not a Ladybug, a charming film about fast and slow, full of the kind of the strange poetic quality that many 'basic concepts' films for very young kids have. We have Teddy Bear's Balloon Trip, in which a teddy bear takes a vaguely surreal trip around the world, visiting other countries and meeting other toys. We also have Flatboatmen of the Frontier and The Oregon Trail, showcasing (respectively) the accurate way and the downright corny way to film a historic reenactment. And we've got a couple of other fun films, too.

As always, the movies are at the Missouri History Museum at the corner of Lindell and DeBalivere in Forest Park (two blocks from the Forest Park Metrolink station). They will start at 7pm. The show is free, and booze and snacks will be available for purchase.

I'll post the full listing of the program below this, for the deeply curious.

My apologies on the short notice, but I hope you can make it.

____________________________________

Thursday August 17, 2006: Wheels, Wings, Water & Air: Transportation Films

Bike People Year: 1970 Director: Phil Kassel Length: 11:00. With a wry sense of humor, this film covers the basics of bike safety and security for teens.

Fast Is Not a Ladybug: About Fast and Slow Things Year: 1959 Director: Unknown Length: 10:00. This film adapts a children's book on the concepts of fast and slow. In ten minutes, you'll learn that a plane is faster than you, you are faster than a snail and a ladybug...well, the title gives that one away!

Trader Vic's Used Cars Year: 1975 Director: Charles Braverman Length: 10:00. Fascinating short study of a California used car salesman and his customers. Explores the psychology of salesmanship techniques.

The Teddy Bear's Balloon Trip Year: 1971 Director: Unknown Length: 13:30 . An animated film about a little German girl who sends her teddy bear up and away in a ballon-carried basket to deliver a gift to Chinese children. Quirky animation depicts the long, strange trip.

Flatboatmen of the Frontier Year: 1941 Director: Unknown Length: 11:00. This old documentary chronicles a recreation of the construction and use of a flatboat, the form of transportation used from 1790-1820 by farmers in the Ohio River Valley to take goods to market in New Orleans.

Transportation by Freight Trains Year: 1968 Director: Art Evans Length: 10:00. A summary of the particulars of freight railroad activity covers the types of cars, how tracks and yards are run and the types of jobs on the railroad. The film indicates that even since the 1960s the railroad has lost some prominence in American transportation.

The Oregon Trail Year: 1961 Director: Unknown Length: 25:00. This film shows a re-enactment of a Missouri family's travel westward. The
overarching Manifest Destiny theme seems dated by today's standards, and the actors often talk like they live in 1961 instead of 1839.

Buffalo Preservationists Offer Illustrated Dictionary, Architectural Center

Forget what a caryatid is? Can't remember if a dripstone and a hoodmold are one in the same?

Well, the exhaustive Illustrated Architecture Dictionary from Buffalo, New York, will answer your questions with its exhaustive list of architectural terms. Each definition is illustrated with an example from buildings in Buffalo.

The dictionary is part of a network of websites edited by members of the Landmark Society of the Niagara Frontier (which runs the Buffalo Architectural Center and the Preservation Coalition of Erie County. Thanks to the dedicated folks in Buffalo, there is more information about the history of Buffalo architecture on the Internet that there is about that of almost any other American city. And visitors to the city can partake of the many exhibits, lectures and tours offered at the Architectural Center. Through their inter-related projects, Buffalo architectural historians have created an interpretive model for other mid-sized American cities.

(Thanks to Lynn Josse for sending me the link to the dictionary.)

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Maybe Uncle Bill's Didn't Need More Parking

In the two years since Uncle Bill's Pancake House on South Kingshighway demolished the two-story brick commercial building to its north -- you know, the one with the weird braided polychromatic terra cotta columns -- for additional parking, I have seen someone park in the expanded lot area maybe three or four times. Mostly when I pass by, the cleared and paved lot is an empty black plain striped with white lines that would serve a purpose if ever more than one car parked there.

O.M.G.I.A.L.W.G.N.O.D. Syndrome: Not deadly, but it can make you look like a jerk

CASE STUDY #1

Back when I worked at the grocery store, I often had to be out at the bus stop before 6AM in order to get to work on time. I worked there through the winter, when it was dark at 6AM.

One Sunday morning, at 5:55AM, I was out at my bus stop as usual, on the corner of North Florissant and Saint Louis, in the dark, alone, when a truck drove up. Two white people were inside. They looked at each other with caution and hesitation, but then one of them rolled down their window and asked me for directions. I forget where they were going exactly, but I want to say they were looking for Natural Bridge and North Grand. Wherever it was, they were heading in the opposite direction of where they needed to be going.

I gave them flawless directions, replete with landmarks and with "If you pass blahblahblah, you'll know you've gone too far."

They thanked me. They were silent. They looked at each other again, and after what seemed like at least 30 seconds of silence, they asked me "Do you know where you are? Do you need a ride?"

The question seemed entirely genuine, and trust me, at 5something in the morning when I am out by myself on a deserted street corner, I assume everyone is out to get me. But they seemed to really be concerned.

These people had a textbook case of "OMG IT'S A LITTLE WHITE GIRL NORTH OF DELMAR!" Syndrome.

I assured them that I knew where I was, and that I live here, and that the bus would be there shortly. They drove away, still looking somewhat worried. I wonder how they thought I gave them those great directions if I didn't know where I was, hmm?

CASE STUDY #2

A couple of months later, I was waiting for the bus at the corner and about the same hour, and I saw a white camera man from FOX 2 filming. I went up to him and asked him what had happened, since it's good to keep tabs on the events of one's own neighborhood. He told me what the story was about, and I thanked him. I walked off to the bus stop at the end of the 14th Street Mall, realizing at that point that I'd missed the #74 Florissant and I'd have to wait for the #30 Soulard.

Before the Soulard bus showed up, the camera man drove up in his SUV and stopped at the end of the Mall. He asked me, "What are you doing around HERE, anyway?"

Responding to the man's tone, I snarked back indignantly, "I LIVE HERE! I own a historic house one block away from here!"

I forget what he said, but I do remember that he acted weirded out. He drove away, exhibiting a classic example of the cat-suddenly-gotcher-tongue symptom that commonly afflicts OMGIALWGNOD sufferers.

CASE STUDY #3

When I worked at the grocery store, we got free coffee if we brought our own mug to work. I often brought my Crown Candy mug, since it provided a nice little opportunity to mention Old North when people commented on it.

One day, a white woman came through my check-out line dressed head to toe in real fur. She told me something about how it was her twice yearly trip "into the city," and how she was totally surprised that Downtown was experiencing revitalization (Musta been a couple of years since the last twice yearly trip, huh?).

She noticed my mug, and made some little comment about it. I gave her the standard, "Why yes I love Crown's it's great I LIVE RIGHT BY THERE and I eat there all the time still. I thought I would have gotten sick of it since I LIVE IN THAT NEIGHBORHOOD!" cutesy spiel.

She looked taken aback.

She said, "I was going to ask how the neighborhood is, but I guess if YOU live there it's fine."

I was tempted to say a lot of things right then, but I knew if I opened my mouth I'd probably say something that would get me fired, so I just remained silent and let her walk out of the store. She was deeply, deeply in the throes of OMGIALWGNOD, anyway, and it probably would have taken considerable rehabilitative therapy to bring her back to a healthy state.

CASE STUDY #4

This past Saturday, I took a nice, long walk through ONSL, St. Louis Place, and Jeff Vander Lou. The course of my walk took me past the back of Vashon High School, where five or so black men were sitting on the dock and chatting.

When I walked by, one of the men shouted across the street to me in a sing-song manner, "DO YOU NEED A MAN OF MY COMPLEXION TO WALK WITH YOU FOR YOUR PROTECTION?"

I laughed. I looked over to the dock, and saw the man smiling in a non-threatening way. I shook my head no, but offered him a cheesy salute to show there were no hard feelings. He cracked up, and I was glad to return the laugh.

This was maybe the first time I ran into an OMGIALWGNOD sufferer on the street who was actually smiling. This man's case of OMGIALWGNOD was also unusual because he was perfectly blunt about the race-based reasons for his surprise at seeing me there, which most people seem to try to skirt around (i.e. it's "that neighborhood" or "safety," when it's obvious what people are really getting at.).

Interesting.

Even though my neighborhood is pretty integrated, I have a feeling I will be running into people stricken with sudden fits of OMGIALWGNOD Syndrome for years to come.

Carpenters Building Demolished



Never been to the Carpenters Building before? Well, you missed your chance, because a developer demolished the Preston Bradshaw-designed building last month.

You can take some consolation is being able to read about the building here.

Saturday, August 12, 2006

Stairs to Nowhere



The limestone steps on August 28, 2005. Photograph by Michael R. Allen.

Grandel Square, known in the 19th century and early twentieth century as Delmar Avenue, once was one of Midtown's populated residential streets. The Midtown area was settled as early as the 1850s, but was not subdivided with official streets until after the 1861 death of Peter Lindell, who owned much of the area. His Lindell's Grove was subdivided by heirs and became a fashionable and somewhat bucolic retreat for wealthy and middle-class families eager to escape the polluted and overcrowded inner city.

By 1875, when Compton and Dry published Pictorial St. Louis, Midtown streets were lined with dense clusters of mansions on streets like Lindell and West Pine and stone-faced townhouses in Second Empire, Romanesque and Italianate styles on streets like Delmar, Olive and Westminster. Delmar's residents were upper-middle-class to wealthy, building townhouses more lavish than those on neighboring streets but more restrained and smaller than the largest houses in the neighborhood. The wealthier residents used limestone to face their homes, while others used sandstone. The house at 3722 Delmar, built in 1884, was among the neighborhood's most impressive townhouses, with an ornate Italianate style, pale limestone face and a three-story height.

The fashionable blocks of Midtown changed by 1900. Just as residential growth spread outward from downtown, so did commercial growth, Streetcar lines made it easy to live in Midtown -- and to work there. Some of the older houses were purchased and demolished for new office buildings on Grand and Lindell, and the neighborhood's character changed. Some observers saw Midtown becoming a second downtown, and the wealthiest residents began to flee further west.




A photograph from the Heritage/St. Louis architectural survey, taken around 1972, shows the house at the top of stairs. Apparently, it had recently caught fire and was in use as the "Grandel Square Hotel" in its last years.

By the 1930s, the neighborhood was scene to office buildings, hotels and the "Great White Way" of movie theaters. People crowded the streets day and night, even as the Great Depression's arrival spelled the end of dramatic growth for the city. Houses remained, but many were converted into multi-family apartment buildings or rooming houses. The house at 3722 Grandel Square was one of the old townhouses that were carved up into a hotel. The other likely fates of the day -- demolition, alteration by storefront addition -- were actually worse. Even by the time of this house's demolition, many other houses of this type in Midtown were long gone.

The house burned around 1970, and was demolished by 1975. The staircase from the sidewalk to the front door was not removed, though and remains to this day. The limestone steps have cracked and settled, making the once-elegant proposal of ascending an earthier endeavor. Those who climb the steps stand on a rugged lawn, no doubt still containing parts of the house pushed into the foundation during demolition.

Next door to the east, the Meriwether House -- built by Elizabeth Avery Meriwether, a descendant of Meriwether Lewis -- survives as one of the dozen or so single-family dwellings remaining in Midtown. (Around 1900, there may have been as many as 250 such buildings.) The Meriwether House, almost demolished in 1999, closely resembles the house that stood at 3722 Grandel Square, giving those who see the stairs to nowhere a good idea of where they once lead. The owners of the Merriwether House are completing a restoration and condo conversion that will brings its appearance and use full circle.





Now is again a good time for the Meriwether House. Photograph by Claire Nowak-Boyd (August 28, 2005).

The stairs next door, also owned by the Meriwether House's owners, aren't as likely to return to their former life. They may remain tentatively in place, but no more shall they lead to a Gilded Age manor. However, perhaps the stairs will bring awareness to newcomers that the Merriwether House is no singularity, and that Midtown once was something far from the sun-baked plain of asphalt and grass that it has become.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Our Dirt



What is shown in this photograph? Does someone in Old North St. Louis own an incontinent elephant? Are Mississippians returning? Is this a previously-unknown north side mountain?

The answer is mundane: It's a pile of fill dirt in our yard that will be used to level out sinking foundation cavities from buildings that once stood on the lots next to our house. Once leveled, the lots can become a staging area for our mason as he begins the masonry work needed on our house.

The dirt is completing a cycle: it comes from the excavation of a foundation for a new house in Old North St. Louis on North Market Street.

How Not to Patch a Hole in the Wall



Here is a piece of a cardboard package containing a mesh drywall patch. The cardboard was mounted as a patch and covered in drywall joint compound...



...right here, on a wall in the former first floor kitchen at the rear of our house. A fire damaged the first floor in 2003, and the owners made repairs. Many of the repairs are rather shoddy, as you can see. Here, it seems that they removed the old outlet box by making a big hole in the wall. After installing a new outlet box, rather than make proper repairs to the drywall, they hastily patched the mess with this curious method. (The new wiring, by the way, was done well.)

When recently removing tiles and sub-floor in this room, I decided to finally get rid of the bad patch. I will remove more drywall and "patch" with a properly cut piece of drywall.

Wednesday, August 9, 2006

Young Smart St. Louisans: Where Do They Go?

St. Louis has a lot going for it in terms of attracting smart and creative young people who don't mind having to make their own way in the world. There are lots of young people here who don't care that there is not a Starbucks on every corner, or an inner-city Whole Foods, or new buildings as far as the eye can see. They see opportunities in the cultural and physical fabric of the existing city that are seductive enough.

But the question that begs asking: Does this city keep those young people around? Does it give them the economic means (good jobs) to bolster their efforts to make this city work against the odds?

After all, when a smart young person gets sick of being a clerk at the hip grocery store or a low-level non-profit functionary, any city can seem like a cold place. Especially one that seems to say to the young person that starting a career has to happen elsewhere.

Chad and Trixie stay on Washington, sure, but what of the young with less money and more ideas? Do they still fly to Chicago, Memphis, San Francisco and Portland? Or do we retain them nowadays?

The answer to that question is a good bellwether of St. Louis' future as a culturally important place.

One from None - nice caption, & nice photo.

While snooping around for some info on a Granite City ghost sign, I inadvertently came across a nice, tiny little blog post from Shreveport, LA.

This explains, very simply, a lot of the reasons why I am fascinated by vacancy, and why I think it's an interesting time to live on the North Side, and what I'm thinking about when I'm walking down the 14th Street Mall.

Tuesday, August 8, 2006

Cook County Hospital To Be Partly Saved Under New Plan

County Hospital is worthy of historic listing, city says - Johnathon E. Briggs (Chicago Tribune, August 4)

Now the Cook County Board of Commissioners (finally sans John Stroger) seems unanimously in favor of preservation of abandoned Cook County Hospital, with one major exception: the rear pavilion wings. Perhaps the board saw the example set in St. Louis by the unfortunate selective demolition of parts of City Hospital; perhaps they felt the need to cave to that gloriously commanding myth, Reality. Whatever they have done, the Board's preference shows a willful ignorance of the hospital's architectural importance, which lies almost as much in its innovative layout and massing as it does in the design of its primary elevation.

Then again, when many preservationists are inclined to think of buildings first in terms of their facade designs, how many lay people going to make informed opinions on buildings like Cook County Hospital?

The odd thing about the Board's new stance is that one of its members, Mike Quigley, has offered a nomination of the hospital to the National Register of Historic Places that apparently tries to separate the main building from the wings. The city's Landmarks Commission has approved the nomination with instructions to leave the wings out of the nomination, a command that seems contrary to the standards of the National Park Service regarding connected structures. Those standards dictate that buildings that are interconnected have to be nominated together, even if the criteria for significance is something other than architecture. I don't envision the Illinois State Historic Preservation Office or the National Park Service eager to approve a nomination that is predicated on the planned demolition of an addition that is obviously a contributing part of a complex of buildings. Of course, the wings can be listed and then demolished, but tax credits may not be available.

If a conversion to residential space is contemplated for the hospital, the more square footage preserved increases profitable space. That seems like an obvious fact with Cook County Hospital, just as it did with City Hospital. Then again, big buildings always instill big fears in developers, architects and politicians.

Permit No Nuisance



A ghost sign emerges from a blocked-in loading dock cavity at the alley side of the former Scruggs-Vandervoort-Barney warehouse building at 917 Locust Street. This is the building where I work, and I can state with certainty that any truth to this phrase has faded along with the paint of the sign.

Thursday, August 3, 2006

The Heat Wave of July 1966

While I am inclined to believe that recent weather in St. Louis is related to global warming, I also take small comfort in the fact that it is nothing new for St. Louis. In fact, things were a lot worse forty years ago during the heat wave of 1966. In July, a three-week heat wave started that claimed 69 lives and saw frequent power outages. On July 14, the St. Louis Globe-Democrat reported that the day was the fifth consecutive day of over-100-degree temperatures, a state terrifying to a region where 200,000 had not had electricity in two days. On July 11, when air conditioners were tapping out available electricity in the area, Union Electric Company (now AmerenUE) started selectively choosing areas for two-hour black-outs to avert a general blackout. The next day, though, a general outage began that took several days to reverse and cost lives.

Thousands of people slept in the city's parks for weeks on end, and many businesses were effectively shut down. Even then, the news reported that some families who sought air conditioning in their cars were thwarted because their cars were parked inside of garages that could only be opened with electric openers.

At an August meeting on the Missouri Public Service Commission that investigated the utility company's performance during the heat wave, Union Electric President Charles Dougherty admitted that the power crisis was caused by the inability to complete the new Portage Des Sioux power plant before the summer. Dougherty blamed the contractors who were building the plant for the delay in completion.

Wednesday, August 2, 2006

Statement on Government Hill

At a special meeting on July 31, 2006, the Preservation Board of the City of St. Louis considered preliminary approval of a redesign of Government Hill in Forest Park. The Board unanimously approved a revised proposal submitted by Forest Park Forever. I submitted this statement.

I want to offer some comments about the Government Hill proposal being considered by the Preservation Board today.

On June 30, after the Preservation Board decided to defer consideration on preliminary approval a radical revision of Government Hill, Mayor Slay wrote in his blog that "there's time" for more consideration and public input on the redesign.

When the Preservation Board agenda for the July meeting was released, myself and others were relieved that Government Hill was not on the agenda. It seemed that Forest Park Forever had heeded the call of the Preservation Board and the Mayor to give such a major proposal regarding a much-loved landscape ample time for revision and comment.

Then, last night when I read the mayor's campaign website, I saw a notice that there would be a special Preservation Board meeting today at 4:30 p.m. to consider the matter of a revised proposal from Forest Park Forever and others for revisions to Government Hill. While there may have been some warning elsewhere, it was the first I had heard of the meeting and I had less than 24 hours to review the plans and provide commentary.

Earlier, I had assumed that myself and others concerned about the matter -- including members of the Board -- could study the issue and provide measured testimony at a future hearing. Apparently, that will not happen. I am disappointed in this hasty process, and disappointed that I cannot attend today's meeting due to previously-scheduled appointments. Had I know sooner, even on a week's notice, I would have made plans to attend the meeting.

As it is, I can barely offer commentary on the new proposal based on the abstract plans contained in the report of the staff of the Cultural Resources Office. The plan seems to be more respectful of the original design, but since no renderings are enclosed it is nearly impossible to tell.

The existing landscape, designed by noted local landscape architect George Kessler around 1911, is a stunning example of the "City Beautiful" era of Beaux-Arts formalism. Some of the landscape designs from that period have not held up well as gathering places, due to aesthetic programs that look better than they function. Not so with Kessler's Government Hill design, which seems to get more popular as time goes by. His grand staircases, central fountain and terraces amid sloping hills create an inviting context with a scale that is respectful of both the World's Fair Pavilion and the users of Forest Park.

The only flaws in this landscape are the lack of universal accessibility and the lack of maintenance. The new proposal seems to take a good step in addressing accessibility without intruding on the existing landscape. The plan unveiled in June was little more than a giant zigzag ramp, based on intriguing medieval designs but totally inappropriate for the site. In terms of restoration, it seems that the new plan is more sensitive to the Kessler design but still aiming to remake it according to modern designs.

That's where the first plan for rebuilding Government Hill is better; if something new is going to happen, it should be complementary to the landscape of the park and a compelling and original design in itself. The proposal being considered today is not compelling or original, but the Kessler design even in its decay remains so.

I urge the Preservation Board to deny preliminary approval, and to urge Forest Park Forever to consider funding the restoration project that the wonderful Government Hill landscape deserves. If they seek a grand gesture or some other imprint on the park, they need not worry. Their restoration work to date has been one of the grandest civic gestures in recent history, and a sensitive restoration of Government Hill would be an excellent capstone.

Government Hill

At a special meeting on July 31, 2006, the Preservation Board of the City of St. Louis considered preliminary approval of a redesign of Government Hill in Forest Park. The Board unanimously approved a revised proposal submitted by Forest Park Forever. I submitted this statement.

I want to offer some comments about the Government Hill proposal being considered by the Preservation Board today.

On June 30, after the Preservation Board decided to defer consideration on preliminary approval a radical revision of Government Hill, Mayor Slay wrote in his blog that "there's time" for more consideration and public input on the redesign.

When the Preservation Board agenda for the July meeting was released, myself and others were relieved that Government Hill was not on the agenda. It seemed that Forest Park Forever had heeded the call of the Preservation Board and the Mayor to give such a major proposal regarding a much-loved landscape ample time for revision and comment.

Then, last night when I read the mayor's campaign website, I saw a notice that there would be a special Preservation Board meeting today at 4:30 p.m. to consider the matter of a revised proposal from Forest Park Forever and others for revisions to Government Hill. While there may have been some warning elsewhere, it was the first I had heard of the meeting and I had less than 24 hours to review the plans and provide commentary.

Earlier, I had assumed that myself and others concerned about the matter -- including members of the Board -- could study the issue and provide measured testimony at a future hearing. Apparently, that will not happen. I am disappointed in this hasty process, and disappointed that I cannot attend today's meeting due to previously-scheduled appointments. Had I know sooner, even on a week's notice, I would have made plans to attend the meeting.

As it is, I can barely offer commentary on the new proposal based on the abstract plans contained in the report of the staff of the Cultural Resources Office. The plan seems to be more respectful of the original design, but since no renderings are enclosed it is nearly impossible to tell.

The existing landscape, designed by noted local landscape architect George Kessler around 1911, is a stunning example of the "City Beautiful" era of Beaux-Arts formalism. Some of the landscape designs from that period have not held up well as gathering places, due to aesthetic programs that look better than they function. Not so with Kessler's Government Hill design, which seems to get more popular as time goes by. His grand staircases, central fountain and terraces amid sloping hills create an inviting context with a scale that is respectful of both the World's Fair Pavilion and the users of Forest Park.

The only flaws in this landscape are the lack of universal accessibility and the lack of maintenance. The new proposal seems to take a good step in addressing accessibility without intruding on the existing landscape. The plan unveiled in June was little more than a giant zigzag ramp, based on intriguing medieval designs but totally inappropriate for the site. In terms of restoration, it seems that the new plan is more sensitive to the Kessler design but still aiming to remake it according to modern designs.

That's where the first plan for rebuilding Government Hill is better; if something new is going to happen, it should be complementary to the landscape of the park and a compelling and original design in itself. The proposal being considered today is not compelling or original, but the Kessler design even in its decay remains so.

I urge the Preservation Board to deny preliminary approval, and to urge Forest Park Forever to consider funding the restoration project that the wonderful Government Hill landscape deserves. If they seek a grand gesture or some other imprint on the park, they need not worry. Their restoration work to date has been one of the grandest civic gestures in recent history, and a sensitive restoration of Government Hill would be an excellent capstone.

Downtown St. Louis Soon Won't Have a Drug Store

The Walgreens store in St. Louis Centre will close August 15, leaving downtown St. Louis without a drug store. Many businesses downtown rely on Walgreens for office supplies (it is really the only source of such downtown) and photo development while shoppers within downtown and on the near north side depend on this store for medicine.

There are no plans for relocation of the store, although there should be.

I suppose that I love home furnishing stores, but I would rather have office supply and drug stores downtown. Myself and many others who work and shop downtown need the basics covered here -- otherwise, what advantage is there to having an office downtown?

How many other US cities of comparable size do not have a large downtown drug store?