Yup – a cool billion.

As you can imagine, the howls of disbelief and anger in Rochester and Syracuse are deafening. These three cities, the Moe, Larry and Curly of upstate New York urbanism, are nearly identical in rates of poverty, crime, joblessness, screwed up downtowns, massive sprawl, infrastructure no one can pay for, municipal budget deficits, crummy schools, and any other metric you might imagine to measure cities in crisis.

All three cities are a mess, with huge challenges ahead. All three cities have a rich and deep store of narratives, and all three were once gorgeous, vital, robust, bustling, and unique. All three cities have systematically choked themselves with inner loops and outer loops and loop-de-loops, sending  jobs and institutions and families out of town, and fast. All of which got me to thinking.

Maybe the fact that our city didn’t get the dough is actually a blessing. Maybe we can put our heads together and figure out just exactly what we would do with that kind of money, so next year, or the year after, when we here might win the Governor’s massive lotto game, we can get started right away. Let’s think about this for a minute.

(Of course it could take years to get an agreement in any of the Stooge Cities as to how to spend a $1 million windfall, much less $1 billion – but onward).

Here’s what we should do (with thanks to Edward Glaeser and his wonderful, problematic book, “Triumph of the City”): City, County, and area leaders and institutions should come together to harness the extraordinary energy and innovative talents of our region – our people – and especially our young people. Doing all that they can to foster a spirit of invention and entrepreneurship, our leaders should commit to a central locale for a potent, new, and powerful economic engine: our central city. By bringing the energy of our most gifted citizens together in a dense urban setting, collaboration and the free sharing and transfer of ideas and invention will yield new jobs, real growth, and a new vitality for Rochester and its surrounds. History teaches us that innovation and invention benefit most from close quarters – cities.

Where should we create this new regional economic engine room? Well, there are a bunch of recently cleared blocks in downtown Rochester where an old enclosed shopping mall used to be. It was called Midtown Plaza, and it was at Main and Clinton – our city’s historic crossroad intersection. Now it’s big and empty, and will be for the most part for the foreseeable future. A great spot for our power center.

From the Democrat & Chronicle.

At the moment, RIT is building the Golisano Institute of Sustainability out in the suburbs on their windblown campus. Of course this kind of Center should be downtown, since no human settlement is more sustainable than a dense, walkable city. Maybe we could allocate a few dollars to move the building to Main and Clinton.

Our local Community College, Monroe Community College, is about to enlarge their downtown presence substantially – probably in former Kodak buildings over by our ball yard. So they will be downtown.

University of Rochester is spread out all over the place here. They began downtown – maybe we could lure them back with a portion of their facilities.

So we gather the best and the brightest – well at least some of them – and we get them to go to work inventing a useable future for our region. Meanwhile, we take whatever is left over in the $1b grand prize and we give it all to our urban infrastructure, social and physical. Many of my fellow Rochesterians may not agree with me, but it seems clear that the health and viability of our region is inextricably tied to the health and viability of our city.

And in late-breaking news, we learned Friday that Rochester has won a kind of booby prize in the state’s urban lotto. The Governor has awarded us $100 million so that we can improve an interchange on one of our loop-de-loop expressways. Everyone here seems to think this is a fabulous development. At the risk of being lynched, I say: NUTS!

The intersection in question, I 390 at Kendrick Road, is a southern point of access to U of R and their medical campus. Sandy Parker, of the Rochester Business Alliance says: “All of that area is extremely congested, so without this project coming into being, it would restrict further expansion of the U of R and RIT.” Take a look at this extreme congestion.

Joel Seligman, President of the U of R, declares that the project will be “transformational to the region’s economic future….” State Assemblyman  Joe Morelle says that this project will “help take us to the next level.” All of them should be ashamed. This project is a massive make-work that is a total and absolute dead end. Basta.

As it happens, I know this intersection very well. In the spring, summer, and fall, I am here multiple times a week, at many different hours of the day. This place is many things, but “extremely congested” is certainly not one of those things. This is just the kind of defective thinking that is leading us further and further from a useful urban future.

A truly ridiculous project, whose time has come and long gone, and yet cheered on by our regional and institutional leaders. Do we really still believe that road building is what we should do to preserve and protect our community? I wish I could laugh – it is laughable – but I can’t. There are 100 million better things we need to be doing here. Expressway interchanges are nowhere on that list.

Sigh.

In this aerial photo, the building they will be reusing for their tasting room and visitors center, 25 Cataract Street, is to the left of the footbridge (once the Platt Street Bridge, now called the Pont de Rennes, in honor of a Rochester Sister City) on the eastern banks of the Genesee River. The landmark buildings they propose to demolish are to the right of the bridge, in that triangle of land against St. Paul Street that is part building and part parking lot.

The best of the landmarks is 13 Cataract Street – that’s the one casting the longer shadow in this image. (Scroll down to see our earlier blog entries showing all these buildings, if you’d like). It dates from the late 1880s, and was designed by the noted brewery architect A. C. Wagner (also the architect for the Stegmaier Brewery in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, thankfully preserved and reused, and now on the National Register of Historic Places).

The other building, 7 Cataract Street, is a two-story masonry construction built in the early 20th century. It was the bottling house.

Okay. Now since the Genesee proposal went public, there has been an outcry from some local residents here that goes like this:

“It’s their property. They can do what they want – let them tear it down. If you historical fanatics want to save these buildings, then why don’t you buy them?”

Two important facts refute this kind of rubbish.

First, we did buy them, in a way. All of us citizens.

When the NYC equity firm called KPS purchased Genesee Brewing in 2009, the City of Rochester gave them over $9 million in forgiven loans, water bills and taxes. Around Genesee Brewing, KPS created the North American Brewing Company, now the 8th largest brewery in the country. We’re glad for all their success, and all the jobs saved and created, but we do have more than a bit of skin in their game.

And second, there is a little thing called the law. In Rochester, in order to destroy buildings designated of historic value, an applicant must meet certain standards. This applicant fails to meet these standards. Here’s why.

Section 120-195B(4)(b)of the Rochester Zoning Ordinance says:

(b) An area variance shall be granted only if the applicant establishes the existence of each of the following conditions:

[1] Benefits. The benefit to the applicant if the variance is granted outweighs the detriment to the health, safety and welfare of the neighborhood or community by such grant.

No problem here, since the applicant gets the benefits and we get, well, nothing. There will be no neighborhood left when they are done. Fail.

[2] Essential character of the area. No undesirable change will be produced in the character of the neighborhood or a detriment to nearby properties will be created by the granting of the area variance.

You decide this one. Would you call removing the neighborhood undesirable? Would you call a giant empty parking lot a detriment? Would you call losing two landmark buildings in favor of – nothing – an undesirable change? Fail.

[3] No other remedy. The benefit sought by the applicant cannot be achieved by some method feasible for the applicant to pursue, other than the area variance.

As we heard during the ZBA hearing on this matter, there are many other remedies still available. Some of them are being pursued even now. The applicant could yet: work out some kind of  a deal for the buildings; stabilize the buildings for reuse as their success continues to brew; donate the buildings to a variety of interested groups. Too soon to tell about possible remedies. Fail.

[4] Significance. The requested area variance is not substantial.

Seems pretty substantial. Fail.

[5] Physical and environmental conditions. The proposed variance will not have an adverse effect or impact on the physical or environmental conditions in the neighborhood or district.

Look at the aerial image of the neighborhood or district. Imagine the physical environment without the landmarks, and with more parking spaces. We hold certain truths as self-evident. Fail.

[6] Not self-created. The alleged difficulty was not self-created, the consideration of which shall be relevant to the decision of the Board of Appeals but shall not necessarily preclude the granting of the area variance.

When KPS bought Genesee Brewing, they knew that the buildings were designated as of historic value. They had been left uncared for, and after their purchase they continued to be uncared for. Now we hear that they are in such a deteriorated condition that they must be destroyed (this is patently untrue, by the way). Can’t have it both ways, brewery guys. Either you could have solved this “difficulty” by caring for the buildings, or you can solve this difficulty now by caring for these buildings. But if they are too deteriorated to save, exactly who else could have created that problem? Fail.

So there are six standards under our law by which to test any desire to demolish the Cataract Street neighborhood. The applicant fails to meet all six standards.

Next case.

And so, herewith, an invitation to the incantations.

What: Zoning Board of Appeals, Thursday, December 15, 2011.

Where:  City Hall, Rochester, NY (a wonderful landmark structure). Council Chambers, 3rd floor.

When: Their meeting begins at 9:00am. We are told that there are 5 items on the agenda, and 13 Cataract Street is 5th. So if you’re there by 10:00 or 10:30 a.m., there should be plenty of time for you to see and hear the action.

It would be great to have the room full of those of us in opposition to this flawed and sad proposal. Come prepared to speak out if you’d like – 3 minutes maximum – or just come to offer moral support to the cause.

It would be wonderful to see a crowd of neighbors. Join us.

As we continue in our efforts here to save 13 Cataract Street, things are really brewing. First, an article written by Rochester activist and urban advocate Joel Helfrich, which you can find at the always extraordinary Rochester Subway site, produced by my intrepid and tireless colleague Mike Governale. Here’s a link:

http://www.rochestersubway.com/topics/2011/12/genesee-brewery-they-paved-history-and-put-up-a-parking-lot/

If you haven’t already, you might want to take a closer look at Mike’s site to see his Photoshop magic, as he gives us a few glimpses of what’s possible at this essential location at High Falls.

And then today, in our local paper, the Democrat and Chronicle, came this piece, by Rochester historian John DeVolder:

http://www.democratandchronicle.com/article/20111210/OPINION02/112100302/Don-t-destroy-another-treasure?odyssey=mod|newswell|text|Home|s

Now we know who designed 13 Cataract, Philly brewery architect A. C. Wagner, and we hear again why we must save this building. Thanks, Mr. DeVolder.

And in very late breaking news (late this afternoon), our local community college, Monroe Community College (MCC), voted this afternoon to move the long considered expansion of their downtown campus (they moved to the suburbs decades ago) to vacant space at Kodak HQ. This is bad because they are now housed in the historic Sibley’s department store downtown, and their large presence there, near the Eastman School, would have really given a boost to that part of downtown. I pray we don’t end up having to rally to save this artifact of our downtown’s past. Our mayor wisely urged them to stay at Sibley’s, but they chose otherwise.

Sibley, Lindsay & Curr, on the left in 1948.

But the good news is that their decision will now put thousands of (beer drinking?) MCC students two blocks from the High Falls, and three blocks from 13 Cataract Street. Genesee Brewing – opportunity knocks even more loudly.

More as news develops. Onward.

And since I am the beer holder this evening, let’s talk about a real beauty, 13 Cataract Street. 

This wonderful old and sadly neglected building is 13 Cataract Street, here in our city. The folks who own it plan to tear it down. A bunch of us, the “historical fanatics” as we’re known to some of our neighbors, want to see it stay with us. It is, after all, older than our grandparents – over 110 years old – and it would be a true folly to lose this wonderful trace of our fast receding past. Who wants to tear down their grandparents?

Originally, in the 1880s, 13 Cataract Street was without the giant metal carbuncle which now obscures its southwestern face. In a city plat from 1918, the building’s footprint looked like this:

Our subject is underneath the W and the A in ATWATER, and was then a part of the Standard Brewing Co. campus. As you can see, in those days there was a kind of courtyard to the south, facing the river, and no carbuncle.

In a 1935 plat, we can see that 13 Cataract Street has been joined by another building, to the east. By then additions had been made to include an enclosed platform for loading and unloading from the adjacent railroad tracks. Like this:

Standard Brewing had become Cataract Brewing. The new building to the east of 13 Cataract Street, also a landmark here and also slated for demolition, is narrow and very deep, running from Cataract almost 200 feet south to the railroad.

So to begin to get at the beauty of Cataract Street, we need to get rid of all the crappy additions, and get back to the original fabric of the historic structure. All the stuff in the foreground, including the giant box at the left in this view, can go.

And voila! 13 Cataract Street would have terrific views of the High Falls and the river, and would be a shining beacon at the eastern edge of the pedestrian bridge, the Pont de Rennes, which spans the river and offers incredible views of the Falls and all of the surrounding city.

Then we could go back and create a wonderful esplanade along the eastern banks of the river, from the city’s park to the south of 13 all along the river,

terminating in a great public plaza at the foot of the bridge. Here the historic structure that is planned to remain, and 13 Cataract, could frame a new gem of a space in the city’s public realm. Here:

Perhaps you can get a better sense of the possibilities by taking a look at this aerial image from the late 40s or early 50s:

In those days, the bridge still carried vehicles. The fulcrum of space between 13 Cataract and its neighbor to the north is located at the right middle of the image, near the bottom.

Maybe it is easier to see the pivotal location of a restored 13 Cataract Street in this 1982 aerial:

And oh, the beauty we can now beer-hold! 13 Cataract Street and its neighbors can now take their place in a larger vision for High Falls that includes the work already completed on the other side of the river, the soon to be redeveloped RG&E Beebee Station, the GardenAerial on the bridge, the trails looping the falls, the city park, the reused Gorsline Building, and all the other terrific and valuable things going on in this part of our city.

In the last few weeks, we have been talking here about precious historic resources, the possibilities that a great old building represents, the very real value this building can embody for its owners and for the city, and the role that this place can play in enhancing our public realm. There are so many good reasons to save 13 Cataract.

Cheers!

The High Falls here, on the Genesee River. At the Falls on the left, the wonderful Gorsline Building in a much edited version, thankfully saved and reopened in 2000. It was once a much larger building, but between neglect, collapse, and fire, only the portion abutting the Falls remains. In the old days, during some spectacular weather, the building looked like this:

In the middle of the panorama, and in the distance, is Kodak Tower. Immediately right of the tower, and on the riverfront, is the RG&E Beebee Station, where the last turbine will take its last whirl in February. The station will then be shuttered pending some future redevelopment. Something will happen here.

That’s the Pont de Rennes bridge (nee Platt Street bridge) crossing the river in the middle of the view. This is the bridge that a group here wants to convert to a Rochester version of Manhattan’s High Line. They call it the GardenAerial, and you can learn more at www.gardenaerial.org.

It once looked like this in 1917 (note the Gorsline building behind the bridge next to the Falls):

And at the right in the panorama below is the Genesee Brewery, and the historic structures at the foot of the Pont de Rennes bridge. 13 Cataract Street – threatened with demolition – is the ochre colored, taller building.

Here’s a view of the brewery from the bridge.

The masonry building on the left is proposed to be the new brewery visitors center. On the right is the threatened 13 Cataract Street. Please note that the brewery folks say that they selected the building on the left  for their center because it has views of the Falls. Hmm. Stay with me on this one.

It’s hard to see 13 Cataract because of the much more recent metal buildings which surround it to the west and south, and which should be removed. But the original building is pretty spectacular, and dates from the late 1880s.

Remember what 13 Cataract looked like once upon a time. Yes, there are windows at the gable end at the right side of the building that look right out on the High Falls.

The Library image was printed backwards. Thanks to a reader, now corrected.

On the left of the image above is another building on the brewery campus, also designated as historic, built probably in the 1930s, and also slated for demolition. “Cataract” is carved in the limestone portion of its parapet.

So let’s recap. First there is the spectacular High Falls themselves - a place we Rochesterians take visitors for a stroll, and stroll ourselves. Then there is the High Falls district, with its offices and restaurants and residences in all the old restored mill buildings and new construction:

Just further west of the district (a couple of blocks) is Kodak HQ, and Frontier Field, home to our AAA Red Wings.

Then there is the RG&E campus, now no longer used for power generation and to be redeveloped for….?

Then there is the bridge, which may yet become Rochester’s Hanging
Gardens, with its attendant proposed trail around the gorge at the High Falls.

Then there are the precedents set by the Potosi Brewing Company in Potosi Wisconsin, the American Brewery in Baltimore, Maryland, the Pearl Brewing Company in San Antonio Texas, the Pabst Brewing Company in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, the Tivoli-Union Brewing Company in Denver, Colorado, the Brooklyn Brewing Company in Brooklyn, New York, and others. Some of these historic breweries still make beer. Some don’t. But all have been restored, and are playing important roles in each of their locales. Look them up.

So let’s not tear anything down here. Let’s figure out how to make the whole big picture work. So much energy and vision and money has been spent in this part of our town, and so much more will be spent. Tearing buildings down – especially really significant ones – is worse than a damaging, destructive waste. Demolition now robs us of our history, it’s true, but robs us of real future value as well. We are awash in the heady foam of possibility.

Perhaps we can recall the now banned watchwords of British brewer Courage and Company (the Brits banned the motto because they were worried about the implied connection between drinking beer and having courage – you decide):

I’ll have another, now, I think.

But I do want to offer an update on the ongoing conversation here about the fate of the landmark 13 Cataract Street building.

From Albert Stone, 1917. To the left of center, with the steam, is 13 Cataract Street. On the right, immediately adjacent to the railroad tracks, is the former packaging center.

I have been in an email exchange with the staff of the building’s owner, North American Breweries (NAB). They have indicated that they have for some time intended to restore one building on their beer campus, that they assessed various possibilities based on size, space, cost, and location, and they did not select 13 Cataract Street, but instead chose another old building, the former packaging center. I am not sure why they decided to select just one building to save, but they did. NAB, the 8th largest brewing company in the U.S., decided that they would only preserve one of the historic structures on their campus. Seems a bit parsimonious at first inspection. But onward.

The lovely old packaging building.

13 Cataract Street, a historic landmark.

Having made their selection, they put 13 Cataract up for sale, and “dozens” of developers toured the hapless building.

They tell me that “serious” buyers concluded that the rehab costs were prohibitive. They peg these costs at $2 million to stabilize and $5m to $8m to adaptively reuse. I have not seen estimates or drawings of any kind, so I can’t assess whether this is right or wrong. But remember, there is a 40% tax credit for rehabbing historic properties. This would certainly reduce the project costs, by millions.

Then their explanations get a bit problematic, I think. They say that the reuse of the former packaging center “hinges on the abandoned buildings being removed.” Hmm. Not sure why – I suppose to make way for a parking lot. Why does their project “hinge” on the demolition of 13 Cataract? Have they asked the city about using a bit of the adjacent park to help them with their plans?

And the use of the word abandoned is odd. They are the ones who abandoned 13 Cataract. It’s their building, not an absentee landlord’s. If they think of the “abandoned” building as a liability, they might consider donating it. In an instant, the building would be saved, their liability would disappear, and the costs associated with stabilizing and reusing 13 Cataract Street would vanish.

And finally they tell me that they have a budget of $2.6 million, and that is the end of that. Okay, then.

They have also let me know that the brewery staff are folks of good will, trying to do a good thing for themselves and the larger community.

Okay again. Even people I admire enormously have made wayward decisions. I don’t know the beer folks at all, and I have no reason to doubt that they are good citizens. But I say again – tearing down 13 Cataract Street is not a good idea.

Another reason demolition, instead of the creation of a broader beer campus and area plan, is not a good idea surfaced Tuesday morning in our newspaper, when we learned that our gas and electric utility, RG&E,  is decommissioning their facility immediately across the river, in preparation for some as yet unspecified future redevelopment. For this entire portion of our city, this is a moment rich with possibilities.

Finally, NAB suggests that we should not think that they are rushing to get this done, rushing to demolish 13 Cataract Street. Well, I wonder.

They filed an application Monday to tear down 13 Cataract. In the Tuesday paper was the usual threat: if we don’t get immediate approvals, “then it’s a different question altogether.”

But I have a solution, I think. I invite NAB to really reach out to the entire community, the city, the county, RG&E , and others for help in shaping a larger vision for the beer campus and High Falls. And let them ask us all for help in finding funding for a phased stabilization and adaptive reuse of both buildings.

And to find immediate extra dollars to get this done I propose something simple. They seem quite set on a budget of $2.6m. But if we could help them raise a few million more, we might be able to assist in saving 13 Cataract too. You know, a kind of beer version of a region-wide pass-the-hat bake sale for NAB and their landmarks.

All of you go along to your local pub this long weekend. Have a Genny or a Labatt’s Blue or a Magic Hat (NAB owns all of these). No, have several (designated drivers, please). The increased revenue from all this jovial beer drinking goes to the 13 Cataract Street Fund. We should be able to raise a pile of dough with just a little effort – bend an elbow or two, or three.

Save the Cataract. No, save both Cataracts. This blindness is curable.

As if to conclusively prove Professor Einstein correct, we stand to lose yet another wonderful part of our particular urban narrative here in favor of  – wait for it – another parking lot.

I will be brief. I simply want to say yet again that one of the surest foundations for our best urban future lies in our rich, textured, and meaningful past. Tearing buildings down has rarely made any place better, and especially when the razed building is replaced by asphalt and yet more cars. We really must stop doing this.

Here’s the potential next victim in Rochester’s sad but ongoing effort to erase its past:

The library’s print was backwards. Now corrected.

The building, at 13 Cataract Street here, is part of the Genesee Brewing campus. Its owners, who say the building is in bad shape (they own it of course, so why are their problems now our problems? Take care of your damn assets, already) want to demolish it so that they can build a visitors center and tasting room in another of the old buildings on their beer campus.

The building, and the campus, are immediately adjacent to one of our most astonishing physical assets – the High Falls of the Genesee River, seen here in 1925.

This is High Falls. The brewery campus is to the left of the falls, adjacent to the horseshoe in the river.

Another view, this time from 1917.

13 Cataract Street, our endangered subject, is the building at the far right of the picture, with steam emanating from its roof.

To get a better idea of the High Falls, take a look at this:

The brewery is out of the picture to the left. I invite you to go and look for other images. This is an amazing place, freighted with the origins of this city.

This is where our city began, in the 18th century. Ebenezer “Indian” Allen built a mill not far from the High Falls in 1789, on what was known as the 100 acre Tract. It looked like this:

Later the High Falls themselves would run an assortment of mills as the growth of the city began in earnest.

And much more recently, the city and private developers have worked diligently in the 100 acre tract to restore and revitalize the High Falls area as a kind of campus – not just one building, but a collection of landmarks.  Like this:

Restorations, new infrastructure, streetscaping. It worked at first, sagged for a while, and now is reviving. The buildings pictured above look across the river at the brewery, and our endangered subject. Lots of public and private money has gone into this place. Leverage that investment? I guess not.

So here are a few reasons why demolishing 13 Cataract Street is kind of stupid:

1. The building’s owners know nothing about preservation and reuse, or repairing neglected buildings. They make beer.

But if they did know anything about preservation, they would not be able, with a straight face, to say this building is too far gone to save. Hah. Many of us who have saved buildings in so much worse shape know that their claims are just laughable, and a perfect illustration of their ignorance. Take a look at this:

Interior of 13 Cataract Street, photo by thecolorblindphotographer.com.

Dirty? Yes. Needs attention? Yes? About to fall down? Emphatically no.

2. There are people who want to save and reuse 13 Cataract Street. The Landmark Society of Western New York has stepped in to offer help, and to offer expertise in saving old landmarks. They stand ready to help further, given a chance.

There is a group working to create an Aerial Garden, (www.gardenaerial.org/) a kind of local version of Manhattan’s wildly successful High Line project (you can look it up) on the pedestrian bridge across the river at the High Falls. They would be happy to get involved. Their plan connects the High Falls neighborhood with the beer campus. It makes clear sense that the two sides of the river will increasingly work together.

There are others. But with the announcement on Friday that the brewery is moving forward with their very flawed plan, it looks like the time to talk to them in reasoned tones about real alternatives is over. They make beer.

3. If their plan was part of a redevelopment that included the brewery tasting building in another old part of the campus, offices, residences, a visitor’s center for the Aerial Garden, and other uses, would the brewery benefit? Yes. In fact, drawings of this better possibility have been made, some time ago, and they are really pretty wonderful.

Would the city benefit? Yes. Would the redevelopment act as a balancing counterweight to the work on the other side of the river? Yes. Would the brewery need to find partners? Yes. Have they reached out to find such partners? They say yes, I say no.

They’ve tried to sell the building, it’s true. But have they really dug in to figure out how to make something better really work? No. They make beer. They don’t do historic preservation. But some here do, and I guess since the owners have said they are moving ahead with plans for demolition, our collective ability to help will go unused.

There are folks here who understand that the key to these kinds of redevelopments lies in utilizing the tax credits available for saving and adapting historic structures. Have they been invited to help get this done? Nope. On we go, rushing towards another legacy mistake, in this city filled with legacy mistakes.

4. In Chicago, where I grew up, one of the most enlightened of all of that city’s citizens was a beer baron, Charles Wacker. It was Wacker who was charged with building Daniel Burnham’s 1909 Plan of Chicago. And he did. He reached out to every corner of the city for support, got it, and built much of the plan, making Chicago great then, and greater now. He made beer, he made sense, and he made a great city.

Enough. Any of you who visits us here often knows by now that this was once an incredible city, crafted by the enlightened and otherwise, filled with character and texture and a particular kind of vitality. And now, again, we are doing what we can to wreck our legacy, our heritage. This is happening in every city in this nation, but less in some places than others. And every time we lose yet another landmark, we sadly prove Dr. Einstein right.

Alas. God save the Cataract.

Witness this:

July 13th, 1913. The automobile is a Franklin. That’s Jimmy Feeney at the wheel – service manager for Franklin. City Sealer John Stephenson is about to pour a measured gallon into a glass container. Officials look on – after all, it’s a National Efficiency Demonstration.

And the answer: 57.2 miles on one gallon of gasoline.

Franklin Automobiles went out of business in 1934.

Staib’s Saloon, Blossom and Winton, 1913.

Of course it was an imperfect arrangement. Streetcars in cities were an important, even critical, part of early 20th century urban life, but like any human conception, not without the occasional flaw.

Like the one above, when a streetcar crashed through the front door of Staib’s Saloon. Perhaps the motorman was thirsty….

One of the biggest challenges was keeping autos and streetcars separated. As on Main Street, below in 1919, officials experimented with a variety of controls to assure that the transit modes stayed clear of each other.

Which of course they didn’t.

Parsells Avenue, 1915.

Monroe and Crosman, 1923.

And often the sudden presence of a car or truck on the tracks would induce various kinds of mayhem.

On St. Paul in 1922, a truck bumped a streetcar off the tracks, and it promptly hit a fire hydrant, causing a small tidal wave.

Not sure how this next one  happened right downtown, but it sure drew a crowd.

Methinks somehow a rubber-tired vehicle was involved….

Streetcar workers occasionally went on strike (as railway companies found ways to operate the trolleys with fewer employees, for example), but the show had to go on. And it did.

I can hear OSHA inspectors nationwide groaning at this image. But hey – it worked.

Judging by all the smiles, everyone was having a pretty good time in spite of the work stoppage.

Main and Fitzhugh, 1910.

So mishaps and hiccups notwithstanding, the streetcar city worked pretty well.

Moral of the tale: cities are for feet, then rails, then cars.