William
2007-10-01 02:36:50 UTC
Heres some food for thought for all you anti-history people out there
http://www.startribune.com/562/story/1452935.html
Linda Mack: Making history
To appreciate the impact of the preservation efforts made in the last
30 years, imagine what Minneapolis and St. Paul would have looked like
without them.
--------------------------------------------
With its elegant bronze fountain shaded by giant oaks and the porched
and turreted houses surrounding it, St. Paul's Irvine Park is such a
pure piece of Victorianna that it's hard to believe it hasn't always
been there. But this charming corner of the city fell on bad times.
The fountain was removed in 1927, the 19th-century houses were carved
up for rooms, and by 1969 the city planned to raze the area and
replace it with public housing.
Thus was St. Paul's historic preservation movement born. Outraged
residents and the Minnesota Historical Society joined forces to save
the houses and the park. It wasn't an easy victory. One summer, after
four of the houses were torched, Tom Lutz of the Minnesota Historical
Society slept in the park to prevent more arson. But by 1978 both the
houses and the park had been renovated, and residents celebrated by
installing a replica fountain, once again the centerpiece.
Irvine Park is one of the Twin Cities' most dramatic historic
preservation victories and one of the many places that some 2,000
preservationists will visit this week when they attend the annual
conference of the National Trust for Historic Preservation. They'll
also hear Garrison Keillor expound on St. Paul's quirks, and they'll
tour both cities' riverfronts, visit historic Native American sites,
canoe down the Minnesota River and take a candlelight tour of Summit
Avenue houses.
Rightly enough, the conference is based in St. Paul, which embraced
preservation earlier than its more economically ambitious sibling.
(While St. Paul saved the 1902 Old Federal Courts Building as Landmark
Center, Minneapolis razed the 1889 Metropolitan Building and the
oldest 30 percent of its downtown.) But Minneapolis' recent
preservation successes, including the F&M Bank's revival as a Westin
Hotel and the massive Sears building's rebirth as the Midtown
Exchange, will be on the agenda as well.
To appreciate the impact of historic preservation over the last 30
years, imagine what the Twin Cities would look like without it.
The Quadriga, the four horses on the State Capitol, would be
tarnished. The St. Paul Cathedral would look dingy, and its roof would
leak. Summit Avenue would be tawdry, as it was in 1970, and some of
the houses would have been leveled. Lowertown's muscular brick and
stone warehouses would be gone, replaced with ugly 1970s buildings--or
nothing at all. The Dayton's Bluff neighborhood east of downtown would
be run down.
On the University of Minnesota East Bank campus, Jones and Nicholson
halls would be gone rather than beautifully renovated, and the
historic Knoll, the oldest part of the campus, would be decimated.
Coffman Union would still look like it did after an unfortunate 1970s
renovation, and it would still turn its back on the Mississippi River.
Along the Mississippi in Minneapolis, the appealing brick buildings
that gave birth to Pracna on Main and St. Anthony Main would be gone,
as would the West Bank mills that now house lofts, office space and
the Mill City Museum. The Stone Arch Bridge would still be encased in
chain link fence. No one would live on Nicollet Island.
Upriver, the friendly tower of the Grain Belt Brewery would be absent.
The Warehouse District would have been razed, and hundreds of houses,
parks and libraries in both cities would convey no sense of the city's
past.
Preservation hasn't solved every urban ill. Historic properties such
as the Hamm's and Schmidt breweries and the Upper Post at Fort
Snelling still daunt developers. Development and preservation still
clash, as they have on Nicollet Island over plans to install a
football field on city parkland or as they have in St. Paul over plans
to build a massive complex called The Bridges across the Mississippi
River from downtown.
But what's happened in the last 30 years is remarkable. Developers
have come to love older buildings for the character they offer.
Preservationists have come to welcome sensitive development. Residents
of the Twin Cities have come to value historic environments for their
human scale, their ties to the past and their livability.
Thirty years ago preservation seemed to focus on the past. Today it is
fueling the future.
http://www.startribune.com/562/story/1452935.html
Linda Mack: Making history
To appreciate the impact of the preservation efforts made in the last
30 years, imagine what Minneapolis and St. Paul would have looked like
without them.
--------------------------------------------
With its elegant bronze fountain shaded by giant oaks and the porched
and turreted houses surrounding it, St. Paul's Irvine Park is such a
pure piece of Victorianna that it's hard to believe it hasn't always
been there. But this charming corner of the city fell on bad times.
The fountain was removed in 1927, the 19th-century houses were carved
up for rooms, and by 1969 the city planned to raze the area and
replace it with public housing.
Thus was St. Paul's historic preservation movement born. Outraged
residents and the Minnesota Historical Society joined forces to save
the houses and the park. It wasn't an easy victory. One summer, after
four of the houses were torched, Tom Lutz of the Minnesota Historical
Society slept in the park to prevent more arson. But by 1978 both the
houses and the park had been renovated, and residents celebrated by
installing a replica fountain, once again the centerpiece.
Irvine Park is one of the Twin Cities' most dramatic historic
preservation victories and one of the many places that some 2,000
preservationists will visit this week when they attend the annual
conference of the National Trust for Historic Preservation. They'll
also hear Garrison Keillor expound on St. Paul's quirks, and they'll
tour both cities' riverfronts, visit historic Native American sites,
canoe down the Minnesota River and take a candlelight tour of Summit
Avenue houses.
Rightly enough, the conference is based in St. Paul, which embraced
preservation earlier than its more economically ambitious sibling.
(While St. Paul saved the 1902 Old Federal Courts Building as Landmark
Center, Minneapolis razed the 1889 Metropolitan Building and the
oldest 30 percent of its downtown.) But Minneapolis' recent
preservation successes, including the F&M Bank's revival as a Westin
Hotel and the massive Sears building's rebirth as the Midtown
Exchange, will be on the agenda as well.
To appreciate the impact of historic preservation over the last 30
years, imagine what the Twin Cities would look like without it.
The Quadriga, the four horses on the State Capitol, would be
tarnished. The St. Paul Cathedral would look dingy, and its roof would
leak. Summit Avenue would be tawdry, as it was in 1970, and some of
the houses would have been leveled. Lowertown's muscular brick and
stone warehouses would be gone, replaced with ugly 1970s buildings--or
nothing at all. The Dayton's Bluff neighborhood east of downtown would
be run down.
On the University of Minnesota East Bank campus, Jones and Nicholson
halls would be gone rather than beautifully renovated, and the
historic Knoll, the oldest part of the campus, would be decimated.
Coffman Union would still look like it did after an unfortunate 1970s
renovation, and it would still turn its back on the Mississippi River.
Along the Mississippi in Minneapolis, the appealing brick buildings
that gave birth to Pracna on Main and St. Anthony Main would be gone,
as would the West Bank mills that now house lofts, office space and
the Mill City Museum. The Stone Arch Bridge would still be encased in
chain link fence. No one would live on Nicollet Island.
Upriver, the friendly tower of the Grain Belt Brewery would be absent.
The Warehouse District would have been razed, and hundreds of houses,
parks and libraries in both cities would convey no sense of the city's
past.
Preservation hasn't solved every urban ill. Historic properties such
as the Hamm's and Schmidt breweries and the Upper Post at Fort
Snelling still daunt developers. Development and preservation still
clash, as they have on Nicollet Island over plans to install a
football field on city parkland or as they have in St. Paul over plans
to build a massive complex called The Bridges across the Mississippi
River from downtown.
But what's happened in the last 30 years is remarkable. Developers
have come to love older buildings for the character they offer.
Preservationists have come to welcome sensitive development. Residents
of the Twin Cities have come to value historic environments for their
human scale, their ties to the past and their livability.
Thirty years ago preservation seemed to focus on the past. Today it is
fueling the future.