July 8, 1910

After I sort through all of the ridiculousness that is Destiny USA, I find myself asking one simple question:

Did Syracuse really think that a Dave & Buster's was its ticket to economic fortune?

As someone who currently lives 15 minutes (walking distance) from a Dave & Buster's, I've never heard of anyone visiting my city solely because of the possibility of playing skeeball at a Chuck E. Cheese for grownups. The fact that Dave & Buster's chose to be here suggests they view this city as a viable market, but they certainly aren't the backbone of its economic or tourism prospects. Therefore, I always find myself a bit confused when I read some of the entries on Post-Standard Store Front Blog. I understand perhaps wanting a Cheesecake Factory or Cabela's in Syracuse for the sake of personal convenience, but in discussions regarding Carousel Center/Destiny USA, there still remains this sentiment that having Dave & Buster's or any other number of retailers would draw visitors to Syracuse from far and wide:

"Anyway, we've watched Pyramid grow over the years, borrowing things it created in its mall "lab" at Carousel and taking them to their projects downstate and in Western New York. Then doing cooler things at those locations.

"Let's start with Buffalo, and its Walden Galleria. They had a rather smooth transition with an addition. So what do they have that Carousel doesn't? This: Bachrach, Bar Louie, Bravo Cucina Italiana, Brighton Collectibles, The Cheesecake Factory, Christopher & Banks, CJ Banks, Giorgio Brutini, Hugo Boss, Hyde Park Steakhouse, Jos. A. Banks, Tim Hortons and Urban Outfitters, to name a few.

"How about Palisades Center? Granted, it is the 10th largest mall in the U.S. parked in West Nyack, minutes from Manhattan. Still, Carousel was the prototype for Palisades. Why not share the wealth? That includes Armani Exchange, Barnes & Noble, BJ's Wholesale Club, The Home Depot, Brooks Brothers, Buffalo Wild Wings, Chili's Bar & Grill, Dave & Buster's, Desert Moon Cafe, Jessica McClintock, LEGO, Lucky Strike Lanes, Outback Steakhouse, Palisades Ice Rink, Q'doba Mexican Grill, Thomas Kinkade Galleries, United Colors of Benetton, White House / Black Market.

"I haven't done the math, but all of those combined and some others I didn't include would nicely fill the expansion, don't you think? Pyramid already has these folks on board. Why aren't there any leases for the expansion here and if there are, why not shout those names from the expansion's rooftop?''

Sure, these stores could fill the expansion, but then what? The most unique feature of Syracuse is that it has a central location for all the chain retailers that you can find in thousands of other cities, not to mention online? The fact that both Outback Steakhouse AND Chili's chose to locate at Destiny meant Syracuse had finally arrived? What I still can't get my head around: if the expansion had been fully leased, and even brought in shoppers "as far away as Canada and Pennsylvania," would it all be okay? Would a giant mall be the centerpiece of Syracuse postcards, and is this the picture of Syracuse that would be sent out to all corners of the world? Syracuse as a destination solely because of "destination shopping"?



"Parks form the most permanent investment a city can make. Other things wear out, parks remain indefinitely." - George Kessler, in an interview with the Post-Standard, July 8, 1910


Long before the Syracuse Chamber of Commerce invited visitors to its website to Explore the Exciting Wonders of...China




they were far more interested in exploring the exciting wonders of...Syracuse:

The Committee on Home Ownership of the Chamber of Commerce last night took up the question of a system of boulevards and parks and recommended that the Board of Directors secure legislation necessary for the naming of a Boulevard and Park Commission to provide what the city needs in that line.

Members of the committees expressed it as their belief that the city had arrived at a point in its career when a general plan of boulevard and park improvements should be mapped out. In the matter of natural advantage, namely, the lake to the north and the hills to the south with a stream connecting, Syracuse is far ahead of most cities of the country. (Post Standard, October 13, 1905)

A movement for park development had started in large cities some fifty years earlier, with an emphasis on securing open spaces for city dwellers to take a break from the chaos of urban life. Reflective of the transcendentalism ideas taking hold in New England at the time, parks—and the nature they provided—were viewed as necessary for human development:

Now, if urban scenes and influences can make that which is best of the human body, mind and heart, then the whole problem might be solved by widening our streets into convenient promenades. But experience has proved in the past, and it is probable that it will remain true in the future, that purely urban conditions cannot produce that which is best in mankind: that only through country freedom and country influences can the best in man be developed. Therefore, parks are absolutely essential to city life, if those who are born and bred in the city are to be kept free from degenerating. (from the wonderfully-titled article Trend of the Park Movement: The Superintendent of Parks of Hartford, Conn Has Led in the Movement to Humanize Public Parks in America—He Is a Rebel Against the Old-Fashioned Ideas Which Would Run a Park With as Little Life in it as there Is in Plush- Covered Parlor Furniture or in the Potted Plants of An Undertaker's Shop, by George A. Parker, reprinted in Syracuse Herald Magazine, February 24,1907)

Syracuse appeared less concerned with spiritual or moral issues when it came to their own park development, and more driven by the need to play catch-up:

SYRACUSE MUST FALL IN LINE

As we have repeatedly said, the strongest practical argument for an enlightened and systematic policy of civic improvement in Syracuse is found in the fact that the most prosperous and progressive cities in the country have already adopted it, and that in every instance it has been justified by results...

One of the cities that have made large expenditure for park purposes is Philadelphia. Yet it is far from being content with what has already been accomplished, and it is now discussing the advisability of a heavy loan for park extension. In giving its editorial approval to the project, the Public Ledger of that city says:

"There is nothing upon which Philadelphians can congratulate themselves more heartily than upon the foresight that preserved Fairmount Park and the Wissahickon valley and such other green spots and open spaces...Appreciation of the great value of parks and pleasure grounds came to us but slowly. Ever since our gradual awakening we have allowed many opportunities to pass, and each year these opportunities grow fewer." (Syracuse Herald editorial, Sept. 24, 1906)

Syracuse had apparently made its own attempt to pursue park development in the past, but perhaps because it was the (18)80s, they suffered from Wacky Wall Walker Syndrome:

"To prove that the present system is wrong, take Burnet Park. Work there was started nearly twenty years ago and the park is not half completed. Instead of completing the park the city started on Onondaga Park and expended about $10,000 on it. Onondaga Park work was given up and about $7,000 was then spent on Round Top Park. Only a little has been accomplished in this park. Before the work on Round Top Park began about $6,000 was put into Lincoln Park. This work was also abandoned. Not one of the larger parks has been finished. We should have at least one park that we could take pride in." (David Campbell, superintendent of parks, quoted in Syracuse Herald, Jan 15 1906)

The Chamber of Commerce, as well as other city officials, including Mayor Fobes, felt that the best way to pursue park development would be the establishment of a Park Commission. As David Campbell, superintendent of parks, explained:

"The great advantage of a park commission is that in case of a change in administration of the city affairs the commission will continue in service and carry out the plans as formulated. Even with the amount of money appropriated here now parks improvements would be apparent if we worked in a practical and systematic way. And more could be accomplished. As it is now money is scattered all over the city and the people cannot see any direct benefit. And they can see little improvement. A park commission will take up one park and finish it instead at dabbing all over the city to suit certain localities or individuals." (Syracuse Herald, Jan 15 1906)

As independent of the mayor, the commission would have final say in all decisions regarding "the parks, squares and trees. It can employ expert advisers to study Syracuse and its environment and map out plans for the development of parks, squares, parkways and playgrounds." (Syracuse Herald, May 7, 1906) The commissioners were to serve terms of one to five years, and receive no compensation.

After formally approved by the state legislature, assembly, governor and finally Syracuse common council, Mayor Fobes appointed five individuals to the Syracuse Parks Commission on July 27, 1906. The commission, led by James Pennock, met that day for an "informal talk" and in a scene that I can only dreamily re-enact in my head, promised to bring good design to Syracuse:

"Mr. Pennock, speaking for the work of the commission, said that one of its first duties would be to interest itself in the bridge to be built on North Salina Street and see if the state could not be persuaded to make the bridge an ornament to that section of the city and at least to prevent such an ugly structure as that over the Oswego canal on James Street. Bridges can now be built so that they will be ornamental as well as useful, and it is hoped that the new bridge will be made an illustration of this fact." (Syracuse Herald, July 27, 1906)

Of course, opinion will only get you so far, and the park commissioner felt their first priority was to hire a world-class landscape architect to plan a park and boulevard system:

It is the opinion of the commission that the right way to go about its work is to place itself under expert guidance and determine what Syracuse should strive to accomplish in the next ten years in the matter of park and boulevard building...it intends to bring to the city a landscape architect of experience and acknowledged ability to determine this question (Syracuse Herald, August 3, 1906)

Uh-oh, this sounds familiar: pay for studies from outsiders that lead to, evidently, a boarded up concrete prison as the first visible Syracuse landmark to any visitors from train, bus or Thruway Exit 36. Yet a century ago, there was a transparency to the process from the start. Pennock anticipated opposition regarding this move, and addressed these concerns from the outset:

"The first thing we must do is to engage a man who has made systematic municipal improvement his profession, who has acquired wide experience in this line and who has demonstrated by results that he can do what we want. The members of the Park Board are businessmen, who know that a thing of this kind should be done by a man who makes it his profession, and they have after deliberation decided to engage such a man. Nothing further will be done until we have procured a satisfactory expert." (Syracuse Herald, Aug 6, 1906)

While the directness of Pennock is admirable, so too is the cynicism of Alderman Walter Hinkley:

"From what I learn through the press," said Alderman Hinkley, "I understand that this expert is to receive $3500 for the first year just for thinking the matter over, and the following two years he is to produce plans. Perhaps to those who understand such things this may seem good business, but I can't see it that way. I would require something more substantial than thoughts for that $3500, because the thinker might stop thinking for a long time...it's the old story: A prophet has no honor in his own country. An outsider who is unknown except what we hear from him from afar can get anything he wants and we ask no questions." (Post Standard, September 18, 1906)

These days, these two speeches go hand in hand. It is understandable that Syracusans can't believe in before and "after" pics of 81:



when they are faced with this "after" and after:




Yet early 20th century Syracuse was a city where architects like Archimedes Russell were setting the design standard. James Pennock himself was considered a pioneer in the real estate development of the East Genesee Street section of the city. Syracuse pride didn't mean cheerleading any new project that came along:

But there's more to this story than a mall. Carousel Center is the centerpiece of a development that will have a profound impact on the kind of city Syracuse will be well into the 21st century...

...To be sure, Congel stands to make a great deal of money from this project, but what's wrong with making money? That's how things have been getting done in this country since it's been a country.

And there will be money for a lot of people to share — Carousel Center and Franklin Square will bring it here. (Syracuse Herald-American editorial, October 14, 1990)

but rather, putting its best face forward to the world, and knowing that this responsibility rested solely with Syracuse itself:

The decision of the Park Commission to recommend that George E. Kessler of Kansas City be engaged to map out a system of parks and boulevards for Syracuse means that this important part of the work will be done...by a landscape architect who stands as high in his profession as any man in the country. Mr. Kessler has given evidence of his ability in many cities, and as landscape architect of the World's Fair at St. Louis his work attracted widespread attention...

It will be understood, of course, that all Mr. Kessler can do here is suggest. He can study the city and its environment, the tendency of its growth and its resources, and out of his experience tell us what we should aim to do. He can give encouragement, no doubt, by pointing out the material benefits which other cities have reaped from courageous and energetic work of this character. But when he has done all that he can do and said all that there is to be said it will remain for Syracuse to decide for itself whether it will continue to drift, improving itself in haphazard fashion as the whim or fancy strikes some municipal administration, or whether it will grasp the situation boldly, masterfully, and determine to have a hand in the shaping of its destiny. (Syracuse Herald editorial, Aug 14, 1906)

George Kessler made his first official visit to Syracuse on January 8, 1907. Although his contract was to last three years (and three years salary), the city ran low on funds after the first year. Rather than demand payment, Kessler "willingly agreed to release the city, stating that he had an abundance of work in many cities of the country which had caught the park and playground spirit. He said he would enter the employ of the city any time there was actual need of his services." (Syracuse Herald, April 4, 1909) (He was engaged by the city once again in 1909 for additional consultation.) However, in this brief time, Kessler made a monumental impact on Syracuse, providing the city with plans for the Frazier Playground, Onondaga, Lincoln and Schiller Parks, and suggestions for Burnet Park. He was instrumental in negotiating the purchase of Kirk Park, and spurred the Park Commission to pursue the acquisition of Thornden Park. The New York State Fair Commission sought his insight about redesigning the Fairgrounds; he visited Syracuse University to see if the campus could be worked into his park and boulevard system. Not only did he inspire Syracuse to act, but long after he received his final payment, he continued on as an unofficial public relations official for the city, as the city now became part of his portfolio. Syracuse hosted a city official from Dallas, Texas, who was "attracted to Syracuse parks by reason of the fact that George E. Kessler [was] soon to be engaged in a similar advisory capacity in Dallas." (Post Standard, July 1, 1910). Kessler gave an interview to the Kansas City Star, praising the natural landscape of Syracuse:

"Syracuse is already a beautiful city, resting in a pocket surrounded by hills," said Mr. Kessler. "It has something we can never have, of course, a pretty lake on the north, which can be seen from the higher levels. Tree planting began many years ago. Now magnificent elms line the streets and make canopies with their branches. In this respect Syracuse has at its maturity what Kansas City hopes to have several years from now." (reprinted in Syracuse Herald Magazine, February 24, 1907)

On one of his later visits to Syracuse to view the city's progress, he once again emphasized the point, this time stating that Syracuse had the potential to become a great travel destination:

"Syracuse should capitalize its natural advantages and attract thousands of visitors as a result of adequate expenditures for park improvements," said George E Kessler."Denver has given the cities of the country a great object lesson in the winning of material benefits by the beautification of the city and development of its park system. By this policy it attracts thousands of visitors and these visitors make extended stays there...Syracuse has fine natural advantages and a splendid location...it should be made a stopping point rather than a mere passing point for travelers. There is much which is attractive about Syracuse at present. With a finely developed park system I believe the city would win wide fame and draw hosts of visitors. The money expended in this manner would not be for the visitor alone. Syracuse's own people would enjoy the benefits all the time." (Post-Standard, July 8, 1910)

In the early 1900s, Kessler looked at Syracuse as a blank slate, focusing on nothing but its natural landscape. One hundred years later, everything that Kessler saw is still there. Sure, that "pretty lake to the north" is polluted thanks to the actions taken back then (even Kessler himself suggested "the refuse of the Solvay Process Company could be used...in filling in the sections [of shoreline] which would be desirable for park lands, after which a covering of two or three feet of earth would be placed over the refuse"- Post Standard, April 8, 1907), but one ugly mall has done nothing to affect the appearance of the parks that Kessler envisioned. This is not to say that the landscape hasn't changed, however:

What surprises the English writer H.G. Wells, who has been traveling about America and writing up his observations and reflections in Harper's Weekly, is the way the American city calculates so confidently upon the certainty of growth. "All cities," he urged..."do not grow. Cities have sunken."
...His doubts fell on stony ground. All America knows is that every favorably located city must make preparations for increasing population....The day isn't far off when the progressiveness of a growing American city will be estimated by the intelligence it shows in laying out the area of its future...
Before Mr. Pennock's term as commissioner expires it will doubtless be seen that the work of our newly created Park Commission has a wider meaning than the beautification of the city as it is, namely, the laying of the plans for the Greater Syracuse of 1950. (Post Standard editorial, July 21, 1906)

What the Post Standard editorial writers, or Mr. Pennock himself, could not have imagined was that as Syracuse grew exponentially in the 1950s, the city center itself would sink. The park system which they felt held the key to the city's future would not only fall victim to this phenomenon, but also to Syracuse abandoning the promise of recreation for re-creation.

COMING SOON: PART 3 (of 3, I think)
August 2, 1956
Movin' on up to the (Far) East Side!

June 25, 1910/June 25, 2009

"I'm going to glue rhinestones on my eyelids, bitch!" — Adam Lambert, Rolling Stone, issue dated June 25, 2009

Yes, we're back to Adam Lambert. When I wrote about my own obsession last month, little did I know that the existence of this obsession would itself turn into an obsession. Countless articles and blogs have been written about the strange, peculiar hold that Adam has on previously unassuming women in the thirties and up age range. There are the Cougars for Adam, of course, as well as happily married mothers for Adam (and their ever-popular Babies for Adam), grandmothers for Adam. We are a nation that filters all real life discussions via reality shows, so plenty of theories have been presented, ranging from androgynous power to embracing our inner outcast (and the simple explanation that he is an amazing talent). One explanation that I find interesting—no surprise—is that it all relates to our past: "According to [psychoanalyst Dr. Gail] Saltz, buried deep inside all of us is the childhood desire to be able to have everything and anything, whenever you want. So part of our fascination with Mr. Lambert is that we may want to be like him...[Lambert] is the poster child for having it all."

Adam Lambert is, as one blogger says, [a master] of both feminine and masculine traits: people pleasing smile and emotional connection, but utterly strategic, articulate and focused. The blogger goes on to state her belief that "easy mastery of both male and female skills is a hallmark of advanced evolution."

So perhaps it is no wonder that when I think about this guy:


I am also reminded of this one:

First, it should be said that there was no question as to what team he batted for, as "he was the best second baseman the Syracuse High School ever had." (Post Standard, January 3, 1904)

Nor did he wear guyliner or nail polish:

He is a plain dresser and while neat in his personal appearance his clothes do not indicate that he spends much time studying the latest fashion plates. One of the most familiar features of the last local campaign...was a rainy-day coat which many young men of half Mr. Fobes' means and social prominence would have scorned. (Post Standard, January 3, 1904)

His vocal talents were not encouraged:

This time it was different. He could not sing himself into the mayor's office. It would not have been considered quite correct even if it were possible. It would have been almost a violation of political etiquette. (Post Standard, November 8, 1903)

And though I can't be certain, I'm going to take a guess and say that a psychedelic experience with certain funguses didn't lead to his decision to run for mayor in 1903. Rather, much like Adam's "knack for quickly assessing the best way to work everybody he comes across," Mayor Alan Fobes "like[d] to meet men face to face and study their characteristics for himself." (Post Standard, January 3, 1904). While he may not have referred to it as being "unrepentant about flirting with both sexes," Mayor Fobes knew the power of "that famous smile of his, which one of the men who managed the Democratic campaign said won him more votes than all of Police Justice Thomson's speeches won for him." (Post Standard, January 3, 1904)

And both knew the importance of taking risks and wowing crowds with the results.

I should note that I realize comparing mayors from the early 20th century to the early 21st century based on a few newspaper articles alone is an endeavor perhaps as ridiculous as comparing a 1909 mayor to a 2009 American Idol contestant. And yet, how can we not, when this is one of the more remarkable buildings constructed during Mayor Fobes' time in office:


As compared to this, under the current mayoral administration:


This alone makes Fobes—or, really, anyone who didn't support this monstrosity—automatically worthy of praise. But North High School was just one of Fobes' many achievements:

(click to enlarge)

While the above is a campaign ad, (limited) research shows that not only do Fobes' listed acts appear true, but in some cases merely scratch the surface. When the ad states that "Mayor Fobes has gone further than anyone before him to protect the city's valuable water supply from possible contamination," he's not exaggerating: from throwing on "high rubber boots and old clothes...[and] wad[ing] through the slime and water of Onondaga Creek under the Erie canal yesterday afternoon on a trip of inspection" (Post Standard, July 27, 1904) to "enjoy[ing] the experience of riding through a portion of the Fourth ward tunnel sewer" under construction (Post Standard, May 1, 1906), Mayor Fobes routinely toured Onondaga Creek and growing sewer system:

Onondaga Creek is not suited to navigation. The scenery is not charming, and the odors are not inviting. Yet the Creek Commission and several other city officers made the trip from Kirk Park to Onondaga street yesterday afternoon. in a miniature scow...During the first part of the voyage Mayor Fobes, Commissioner Edward Joy, Engineer Beech and Inspector Maloney took to the bank of the stream, but later all but Mr. Beech took their chances on the craft. (Post Standard, August 6, 1904)

(And just to be clear about the traveling condition of Onondaga Creek at the time:

People who reside or have places of business in the vicinity of Onondaga Creek say they cannot recall when the creek was in as bad condition as at the present time. The stench arising from the sewerage, which has settled in stagnant pools, is being complained about blocks away from the creek...There has been so little fresh water in these streams that they resemble open sewers. The conditions show forcibly the need of intercepting sewers, the plans for which are nearing completion. (Syracuse Herald, Aug 11, 1908) )

Fobes seemed to be a man about town during his mayorship, inspecting school bathrooms ("'The sanitary condition of the closets at Porter School,' said Mayor Fobes after his return, 'is very bad, and I would be in favor of putting in a new flushing system in place of the dry air system...I think also that the closets should be heated'"—Post Standard, February 5, 1904), city sidewalks ("Mayor Fobes has turned his attention to the care of the sidewalks throughout the city and the number of negligence actions brought against the city on accounts of accidents alleged to result from defective condition of sidewalks"—Syracuse Herald, March 29, 1904), and the quality of coal purchased by the city ("'The city is paying for first class coal for use in the schools,' said the Mayor to a Herald reporter. 'And the city is entitled to good coal. I shall see the dealer who furnishes the coal and talk with him. He ought to furnish better coal, and I am going to tell him so.'"—Syracuse Herald, February 3, 1904). One year into Fobes' first term, a Post-Standard editorial noted the changes in the city:

No one having even casual knowledge of affairs at the City Hall can fail to be impressed with the present quiet and decorum of all official procedure as compared with conditions that existed under the old McGuire regime...Now all is changed and the business of the municipality, whether in larger or smaller affairs, whether in the Mayor's office or in the departments, is carried forward on businesslike lines—quietly, quickly, sensibly and efficiently. And the crowning feature of the situation is that everybody having pride and unselfish interest in the city's welfare is satisfied and gratified at having things as they are now...The municipal work of Syracuse as a whole has never been as well done as it is being done at the present time, and the people of Syracuse never got as much for their money as they are getting now. (Post Standard, January 25, 1905)

Honestly, as you read through pages of the Syracuse newspapers at the time, you start to think that if you weren't plagued with scarlet fever (diptheria, typhoid, tetanus, etc.), drowned in the canal (lake, river, pond, etc.) run over by a train (trolley, car, horse, etc.) or subject of any of the other thousands of gruesome death stories that dominated at least three-quarters of each edition, the first decade of 20th century Syracuse was a pretty rockin' place to be:

The picnic season, which ordinarily does not open actively until the first week of July, is now in full blast...At the office of the Beebe system the general passenger department has been obliged to devote almost exclusive attention to the pressure of business of this character, so great has been the demand for special travel to the several resorts along its various lines.

The opening of the Valley Theater on Monday last, a week ahead of the regular time, has made the pretty little hamlet nestled between the hills south of the city the Mecca for hundreds of pleasure seekers, who find the two hours of vaudeville entertainment at the al fresco playhouse, sandwiched between two trolley lines, a pleasant way of spending a warm evening.

Syracuse persons are especially fortunate in the picturesqueness of the country immediately surrounding it, and in the number and the diversified features of the resorts— lake, river, sylvan and pastoral— easily accessible for a day's outing or for an afternoon or evening's rest and recreation. Suburban trolley lines are constantly revealing new possibilities in this regard, solving the problem of how to spend a pleasant summer for the tired business man and others who are unable to take any extended vacation trip.

Boarding a car late in the afternoon when business is over, one can reach inside of an hour any one of a score of pleasant resorts, where dinner can be obtained and a couple hours spent in quietude or in various forms of amusement...Long Branch, Baldwinsville, Onondaga Valley, Skaneateles, Edwards Falls, South Bay, Frenchman's Islands, North Syracuse, Fayetteville, Manlius, and Jamesville are among the places which offer pleasing possibilities for dinner outings. (Post Standard, June 25, 1910)

Syracuse was on a major upswing in the early 1900s ("The Census Bureau, in a bulletin issued today...puts the population of Syracuse June 1 [1903] at 114,443 as against 108,374 in 1900"— Post-Standard, April 8, 1904), and Fobes placed an emphasis on the importance of unity necessary as the city tried to achieve star status:

Of all the subjects which might be assigned [for a speech at the North Side Citizens Association dinner], "Our City" is perhaps the easiest, because the most familiar. Well called the Central City, located in the very heart of the richest state in all the rich United States, it is served by the greatest railroad In the country. It is within a short distance of the greatest seaport of the continent. It is within striking distance of one of the greatest of inland lakes and even now work is beginning upon a canal, one of the engineering models of the world, which will lay at its feet the raw product of the vast West...

Although I am a North Sider it is not as a North Sider that I must face the problems that come to me for solution. I said many times last fall that there should be in the determination of public policies no North Side or South Side, East Side or West Side, but that every section of the city should be treated fairly and justly, having in view the interest of Syracuse and not of any particular section of Syracuse. (Fobes speech reprinted in Post Standard, May 19, 1904)

These days, it seems that the city administration and related groups tend to view Syracuse as the sum of its parts: surely everyone can find something that appeals to them in the 60 or so images crammed into this 30-second video. A century ago, Syracuse considered itself one entity: every element of its being contributed to its overall look and presentation on the world stage. When you have limited time and means to do this, like Adam Lambert in the few minutes before his finale performance with Kiss, you glue rhinestones to your eyelids. Or if you're Mayor Fobes, competing to make a name for Syracuse in a rapidly changing United States, you focus on the emeralds before your eyes.

COMING SOON: PART 2
July 8, 1910
Syracuse: An American Idyll?

June 9, 1997

Dear Syracuse B-4,

I've been reading your blog for a year now, and I sure could use your advice!

I am a hamlet about five miles outside of the center of Syracuse. In my youth, I was a sight to behold, if I do say so myself. If you don't believe me, here's what was written about me at the time:

[The village] serves as a center for three classes of people. There are the real farmers, who stretch out into the country for miles. There are the Indians, who come to the village in droves for soda-water, and there are the city folks who have built expensive homes on the upper road and who live there the year round solely because they like the village...It is neither a real country village nor yet a city suburb, but it smacks a little of each." (The Syracuse Herald, September 1, 1918)

People were so eager to see me that Syracuse actually extended a trolley line to make me their final stop! Trains ran every half hour, and on summer days, every 15 minutes. (Post-Standard, May 11, 1902) And once the city residents had the opportunity, they came to visit in droves:

The grove at the Springs attracted great crowds yesterday, who partook of the cold spring water with eagerness. In fact the people could not get to the new resort fast enough, and it is believed that the number would have been augmented had there been the two switches in place at the terminus so that more cars could have been run. (Post-Standard, May 19, 1902)

You have to understand: by this time, I had been discovered. Everyone wanted a piece of me; the paper said I was a community "progressing by leaps and bounds" (Syracuse Herald, August 14, 1911). But before this, back when I was just the outsider to Onondaga Valley, I met a gentleman—let's call him "Hine." Hine became completely enamored with 20 acres of my farm land and decided to settle down with me! He built a red brick Italianate home right along South Salina Street. After he passed, his children stayed in the house and were of such great assistance to me (and Syracuse): for example, after the Syracuse Common Council refused to give the Syracuse Amateur Hockey Club (composed mainly of WWII veterans) a place for skating in the city, Hine's son—who then worked as Town of Onondaga supervisor—turned some of my land into a skating rink, and opened it up to all the kids in the area as well (Post-Standard, Nov 29, 1947)! I don't recall them making any fuss when their new neighbors, McDonald's, moved in next door in early 70s. Or Kmart or Fay's in their backyard shortly thereafter. Even when I started to age and lose my luster, Hine House just stood there faithfully, a reminder of my glory days.

But as much as Hine looked the same, I did not age gracefully. Buses replaced the trolley line in June 1940, six months before the final end of all trolleys in Syracuse (Syracuse Herald-American, June 30, 1940). P&C had split by the early '90s; Kmart left in 1995. My longtime neighborhood drugstore—let's call him "Ned," sweet, quirky Ned—abandoned me in 1995 as well. But there was Hine House, looking every bit the same as it did in 1847. Hine and his pals "Hutchinson" and "Gridley" would actually throw open their doors every so often for historic home tours. Not so much historic town tours, as apparently Hine was one of the few connections left to my past. Granted, I may have let myself go over 100 years, but did I rip up the trolley tracks? Did I build the suburban shopping malls? Did I create the exurbs that replaced my longtime reputation as the last stop on the line?

Needless to say, I was feeling rather low and vulnerable when a new suitor—let's call him "Aldi"—came to town a dozen years ago. He was nothing like Hine—no charm, no character— just a concrete box selling discount groceries. But I heard through the grapevine rather quickly that he was interested in me. Usually his type goes for the younger ones—Cicero, Clay—the ones that have taken away so much from my existence. But this time, there he was, asking about me! Wanting me!

He had his conditions, though: lose Hine. Knock him down, pave him over, forget he ever existed.

An 1847 landmark...would have to be demolished under a proposal made by Aldi Inc., the no-frills supermarket chain.

The company's plans surfaced during the past week as Aldi began seeking permits from the town of Onondaga...to build the store. (Syracuse Herald-Journal, June 9, 1997)

Now, Hine wasn't a threat, of course. Aldi could have moved in the old Green Hills Plaza, where Kmart and Fay's sat vacant, or Ned's old place, or the empty P&C. I mean, I had so much other space available for Aldi, but he only wanted the one place where Hine had always occupied:

The ideal location, [Louis] Kibling [director of real estate for Aldi] said, was between Route 173 and Green Hills Plaza. The Hine site is beyond that, but only by a little.

Kibling added that he did not choose a site with the idea of causing a major uproar.

"If it is (not wanted)," he said, "we'll take our money and go where people want us." (Post-Standard, July 24, 1997)

So he wasn't Mr. Right, but he was obviously Mr. Right Now, and I needed him:

"I've been thinking about this for weeks," [Onondaga Town Councilor Suzanne] Belle said. "The area certainly needs a shot in the arm, certainly needs revitalizing. Perhaps this can be the start."

Town Supervisor Thomas Andino said he was aware the community was concerned about traffic and the house, but added, "I'm looking at the property down there, and it appears this property will not alter the character of the neighborhood."

Councilor Charles Petrie agreed, saying, "I don't see any options."

Councilor Donald Hamilton said, "It would help the tax base of the town of Onondaga."

He added that he visited an Aldi store in Cortland and found it to be clean and inexpensive.

"On the day I was there, they had 10 loaves of bread for $1. I was amazed," Hamilton said. (Syracuse Herald-Journal, Sept. 16, 1997)

So, yes: 150 years of history with Hine and I traded him for an amazing 10-cent loaf of bread.

I tried to save him. I thought maybe we could move him to one of the spots Aldi had deemed unacceptable—I mean, Hine wouldn't care, being as he was all about the house, anyway. Aldi said that would be fine, as long as I paid for it:

[Louis Kibling] said Aldi would allow a community group to take possession of the Hine house and move it, if the group provided proof it could pay the cost of moving it. Kibling said he would accept proposals for 30 days. (Syracuse Herald-Journal, Sept. 1, 1997)

Outraged residents who knew of our long relationship tried to save Hine, claiming he was, of course, historic. Before the Aldi plans were approved, the Town of Onondaga Planning Board was required to respond to an environmental impact statement which asked, "Will construction affect any site of historic interest?"

Board members unanimously approved a document that concluded the proposed Aldi Inc. supermarket...would not have a negative environmental impact.

On the advice of planning board chairman Marc Malfitano, board members answered "no" but added, "The home on the site is of interest to the community but of no historic significance." (Post-Standard, July 24, 1997)

Now, Mr. Malfitano may have had an interesting interpretation of homes with "historic significance," as one month after making this statement, his own home dating back to the late eighties—the late nineteen-eighties—was included on the Onondaga Historic House Tour (Syracuse Herald-Journal, August 21, 1997). But board members also consulted with Town Historian L. Jane Tracy, who later said "of course, it's of historic interest and it is on Onondaga County list and the town's list of historic buildings. But, we can't find any reason to say it would even be eligible for the state registry." (Post-Standard July 24, 1997) Of course, maybe they could have found a reason if they actually contacted the appropriate office for such designations, as a concerned citizen finally did:

Kathy Madigan of Ruhamah Avenue wrote to the New York State Office of Parks, Recreation and Historic Preservation.

Mark Peckham, a program analyst, wrote back, saying "Based on our review of these materials, the 1847 house and its dependencies appear to be eligible for listing on the state and national registers of historic places."(Syracuse Herald-Journal, August 28, 1997)

The Office said "the two-story brick house is significant because it is an example of a traditional mid-19th-century farmhouse, detailed in the Italian village style with gabled roofs and an arcade front porch." (Post-Standard, September 19, 1997). But the Planning Board had already heard what they wanted to hear a month earlier, and Planning Board Attorney Kevin Gilligan stated "the letter does not change the board's decision about its historic status but is something to consider." (Syracuse Herald-Journal, August 28, 1997)

Hine may have been nothing more than a Gothic Revival, but what about the land beneath? The environmental impact question asked if construction would affect any site of historical interest:

The archaeologist who is president of the Preservation Association of Central New York told the Aldi Corporation something it didn't want to hear Thursday.

The old farm where it wants to build a new store...is part of a documented village of the Onondaga Nation and may have to be surveyed before the project goes forward...

[This] discovery prompted Onondaga Nation Chief Paul Waterman, whom [Preservation Association of CNY representative and chairman of the anthropology department at Syracuse University Douglas] Armstrong had contacted, to meet with Armstrong and [area] residents.

"I'd like to do all I can to help you," Waterman said. "It's part of our culture there." (Syracuse Herald-Journal, November 14, 1997)

How could it be that Onondaga Town Board forgot about the Onondagas, and that I lived next door to the present-day Onondaga Indian Reservation? Town code enforcement officer Ron Ryan stated "We had no documentation on the Onondaga village." (Syracuse Herald-Journal, November 14, 1997) Did they need the Aldi's built to sell them a map?

Well, you couldn't really expect a store that "specializes in canned produce, snacks, paper products and frozen foods" (Syracuse Herald-Journal, June 9, 1997) to care much about culture: by November 23, 1997, within a span of ten days, every last trace of Hine—the home, smokehouse, icehouse and barn that stood respectfully on a former Onondaga Indian Settlement for over a century—was gone.

So now I've been with Aldi for 12 years, and I guess he's okay. He sells discount groceries to shoppers, which is more than Hine ever did. What did Hine do, anyway? Remind people of a past that is long gone? I mean, that just makes people feel bad, right?

But my problem is that nothing has changed. Truth be told, giving in to Aldi just gave me a reputation of being somewhat cheap, as three months later my Town Board approved construction of a Save-A-Lot in the old Fay's location, and one year later, a Family Dollar store into the old Kmart space, with Town Supervisor proclaiming Charles Andino proclaiming "That's great...it means more economic growth for the Nedrow area." (Post-Standard, November 26, 1998). And then came a Dollar General in the former P&C! Yet, there is no economic growth, no shot in the arm. What exactly did I think Aldi was going to do for me? Bring more big box stores? Dueling drugstores? My true heyday was when I was a summer picnic area: empty wilderness people came from city on trolley to enjoy. Now I'm empty for entirely different reasons, and shunned for it. And all the while, my one link between past and present is gone.

What should I do now?

Signed,
End Of The Line



Dear End of the Line,

Perhaps if you were going to pin your future hopes on loaves of bread, you should have held out for a bakery. They are cute, comfortable, and the extra care and expense that goes into the product is what makes them cornerstones of a community. Why buy into a town where you can get the bread for nearly free?

That said, you are still a hamlet with much to offer: affordable houses, park, a main thoroughfare leading straight to downtown, a grocery store within walking distance (on sidewalks!) that's local and independent to boot. Do you know how much some people—say, those living in metropolitan areas along the East Coast—would have to pay to get all these amenities? About as much as downtown Syracuse is charging for their renovated condos!

Both you and downtown Syracuse want to bring the magic back: the youthful vitality that you once had, when there could be a "record-breaking day for the street railroads of Syracuse. From 10,000 to 15,000 people rode on the cars of the three roads, beginning in the morning and continuing through with heavy traffic until late at night" (Post-Standard, May 19, 1902) Downtown Syracuse thinks that the way to achieve this is to attract a bunch of young, hip, and apparently, wealthy folks to buy condos with historic exteriors and rather generic-looking interiors, and use the extra cash they have left over after the $365,000+ purchase (or $1,450/month to $1,600/month rent) to eat, drink and shop downtown as well. And if they can't find the retail business they are looking for downtown, well, they should scrape together a few more bucks and hours of their time and open it themselves.

You want change? Well, so do millions of those young people that you are desperately trying to recruit. They don't want the same apartment living: shared walls, less privacy, rules and restrictions. This is not to say they want a circa-2007 McMansion in the exurbs, either. This is where you come in. Though you were once considered the end of the line, you are now an inner-ring suburb, with a fairly urban experience. You are walkable, you have both green space and areas for commercial growth. You have economical houses—circa 1920s-1950s—with yards for dogs and barbecues, not how-TruGreen-is-your-lawn competitions. Enough young people move into your town, and you become the reason for a new trolley or light rail system. Just think: your condo friends can take it out to your home for a breather after single-handedly saving downtown.

Let me leave you with a little story. Once upon a time, there was a girl—let's call her "Syracuse B-4"—who lived not too far from you. She rode a bus from her house every morning to you, and your elementary school. It was there that she first learned about local history: the Onondagas, the early settlers of Syracuse, a tale about how you got your name. Now she rode through the capital of the Iroquois confederacy every morning on the bus, and she fed the ducks at Webster Pond countless times, but the naming tale seemed a little contrived. Yet when she sat down to write this response to you, the girl came across the very account she had been told, time and time again, in a 1918 Syracuse Herald article written mere months after you had received your official name:

But to get back to the name of the village, ask George Ash how Rockwell Springs came to be Nedrow.

"You see we got a postoffice here (George, by the way, is also postmaster) and there were so many Rockwell Springs around the country that the Post office department wouldn't let us have that name. So we sent down the name of Worden, after the man that one owned all this tract of land hereabouts. But there was too many Wordens in the book, and they told us we would have to get another one or go without the post office. So we just spelled the name Worden backwards and see what you get? That's it, Nedrow. And a mighty pretty name, too. It may not mean anything to outsiders, but we know what it means in the town, all right." (The Syracuse Herald, September 1, 1918)

What it means is this: the first time, you aimed for historical significance. When that failed, you just went with a simple, yet unique, alternative. Ninety-one years later, here you are Nedrow. Ready for your second chance, again.

April 22, 1972/May 14, 1982

"I remember realizing that he was thinking in terms of the view of the river, the view that the motorist would have—he was thinking in terms of the motoring public, of automobiles," [William] Exton says. "Well, a motorist spends a few seconds at a spot and maybe he can't even look at it; maybe he has to be looking at the car ahead of him. But the pedestrian spends a long time at a spot. He can sit down and look at it. So it's the pedestrian we should be thinking of." - from The Power Broker, regarding Robert Moses' decision to construct the Henry Hudson Parkway through Inwood Hill Park and Spuyten Duyvil in Riverdale, despite less destructive alternatives

For every marathoner, there is a moment that makes running 26.2 miles worth it. For most, that moment is probably the finish line. For me, it is the highway run. In the several half- and full-marathons I've raced, there has always been a part of the course that is run on a temporarily closed-off highway. If it comes early in the race, the scene looks like nothing short of a pedestrian revolution—a pack of thousands of runners taking over the streets. If it comes at the end— and you are a back of the packer, like myself—the feeling is something much more post-apocalyptic: solitary, slightly dazed runners making their way across abandoned interstate overpasses. Either way, as a car-free person for 17 years, I realize at that moment that I had to pay a $75 entry fee, train six days a week for 18 weeks and commit to completing 26.2 miles on foot to see the same sight that millions of drivers see from the comfort of their car every day.


I've lived in four cities since my childhood in Syracuse, and in every one, I only know the landscape from a street-level view. Which is to say, while the actual area I am familiar with in these cities is usually limited in scope, I know every last detail of the homes and building—sight, smell and sound included—because I've walked them all on foot. Quite the opposite is true for Syracuse: while I can drive 81 and point out the hospital where I was born, I have never walked Adams Street or Irving Ave. All my years at Fairmount Fair and I've not a clue about the surrounding neighborhood other than the street signs and homes I've seen from the car window. In the context of Syracuse, this isn't particularly shocking—it's not so much a question of where would I go on foot, but why? Given that everyone needs a car in Syracuse to get from their home to any destination, only the brave would attempt to "explore" around any given location:

Beggars, if any, as well as horse drawn vehicles, baby carriages, bicycles, Henrys, push carts and foot passengers, must now not only stand aside on the main highway, but must thereafter advance cautiously, with one eye in the back of head to see what is approaching from behind. The main highway, interesting as it is for those who sit beside it, as Will O the Mill did in Stevenson's great story, provides poor picking for foot passengers (Syracuse Herald, September 5, 1920)

Of course, the situation becomes a little more disconcerting when the reality is that I've never even walked the roads in my own backyard:

We who go afoot have been crowded off into the back roads, but that is not a real privation, for the explorer of back roads finds plenty of adventure and reward...Onondaga Hill, not the highest, but the most interesting elevation in this part of God's green earth, is covered with back roads...Here's the information...about a few walks across and upon Onondaga Hill...

Go by Auburn trolley to Olney's, 2 3/4 miles south to Wellington's Corners on the old Genesee road, now called the Seneca turnpike. Turn towards Onondaga Valley for half a mile, then take the road south through Cedar Vale, one of the loveliest glens in Onondaga. At foot of the glen turn left and follow Pumpkin Hollow road to Marcellus, a walk full of interest every step of the way...If 13 miles is better than 7 1/2, turn to the left instead of the right at the foot of Cedar Vale and return by way of South Onondaga, Budlong's Corners and the Indian village to Rockwell Springs. The Hog's Back hill is within reach of South Onondaga, and Hitchings' orchards are only a mile from Budlong's Corner." (Syracuse Herald, September 5, 1920 and September 12, 1920)

Growing up, the roads described above—the roads of my neighborhood—might as well have been considered tributaries to Killer Creek: stand too close to the edge, and risk getting sucked into the wake of a speeding automobile. Nature meant scenery, a pretty backdrop for home and car windows. For this reason, I am grateful that of the many suburban/rural areas of Syracuse, I grew up in the one that is—as commented above—the most interesting elevation in this part of God's green earth. I mean, if the only time you can ever leave the perimeter of your property involves getting into an enclosed vehicle, you might as well have a nice, sweeping view.

And yet, it was only when more houses were built on the back roads off Seneca Turnpike that I got an opportunity to walk unencumbered along them. Although Syracuse now refers to any new building as green because it has choose-your-own-flush toilets, back in the '70s, similar developments were viewed as a threat to the very low-tech green innovations Syracuse already had to offer:

"The natural beauty of Onondaga County is in danger of being destroyed by real estate development, commercial enterprise and paved highways. Will you help us promote the preservation of a 'necklace of green' in the county?"

This plea, sent out by Onondaga Audubon Society member Karen Slotnick in 1972 to school children throughout Syracuse, served as the initial launch for the Walk to Save the County, a fundraiser designed to "raise funds for the purchase of lands to keep areas of the county forever green and a natural haven for bird and animal wildlife...[to create] a 'necklace of green' to serve as a buffer against air and water pollution and to preserve and protect the natural habitat." (Syracuse Herald-American, April 27, 1980). The first year, students were asked to walk one of four routes "12 to 15 miles long" (Syracuse Herald-Journal, April 22, 1972), with secured pledges from sponsors who promised to pay at least 25 cents per mile completed. Participants were also given bags for litter pickup along the way. The event would be held rain or shine, and on Earth Day, 1972, despite a "cold pouring rain that at times was mixed with hail and snow," (Syracuse Herald-Journal, March 1, 1973), over 3,000 school children and their parents showed up at one of the four starting points: Van Buren Elementary School in Baldwinsville, Jamesville Elementary School, the Bear Road Elementary School in North Syracuse and Marcellus High School. The large majority—2,000 of the 3,000 total—walked the Marcellus route. The following year, the walk was moved to a new date in hopes of better weather, and over 5,000 walkers turned out on a sunny day in early May. Once again, the greatest number of walkers showed up on the Cedarvale/South Onondaga route, the new route for Southern Onondaga County schools. Throughout the '70s and early '80s, the walks were an annual success; by the mid-80s, the walks had raised over half-million dollars, and 630 acres of land had been bought and preserved for public use, including Baltimore Woods in Marcellus, Beaver Forest Wetland in Cicero, Old Fly Marsh in Pompey and Carpenter's Pond in Fabius. (Post-Standard, May 2, 1986). Though there are plenty of cause-related 3Ks and 5Ks these days (which led to the decline and eventual end of the Walks in 1997), there is something remarkable about several thousand students giving up their entire Sunday afternoon to walk ten miles to raise money for the rather abstract idea of "saving the county." Maybe it was the sense of competition: the Golden Boot trophy was awarded to the school with the greatest percentage of student participation (my district, Onondaga Central, won the award for several years; in 1975, for example, one-third of the student population walked (Syracuse Herald-Journal, July 8, 1975)). Or maybe it was because for the first time, kids—with "crossing guards, uniformed policemen, adult supervision, trained first-aid personnel and medics" (Syracuse Herald-Journal, April 17, 1972) as protection from passing traffic—could explore the very roads they had lived on all their lives. Maybe it's as simple as Karen Slotnick wrote in a letter to the editor to Herald-Journal on August 18, 1980: "We do not delude ourselves that all students know, or even care, why they are walking. Some just have a wonderful time."

Or maybe it was the Slotnicks themselves:

"When you go into your first marathon it seems like it's an unattainable goal to run 26 miles," Slotnick reminisced. "But when you complete it — well, there's no feeling that can duplicate what you feel after running a marathon...There is a great deal of exhilaration, a feeling of euphoria. Something happens to you psychologically and emotionally after running that far. I realized it at that finish line in 1971, and I knew there was no turning back." (Post-Standard, December 14, 1978)

At the same time Karen Slotnick was organizing the Walk to Save the County, her husband Mel Slotnick—lawyer and son of the founder of Slotnick Enterprises (owner of Carrols Restaurants and several movie theaters, including Lakeshore Drive-In and Cinema North)—played a vital role in drawing attention to Syracuse as a potential running mecca.

In 1970, Syracuse hosted the first annual Salt City Marathon. While the marathon only drew 40 entrants, most notable was that it was one of the few marathons in the world at the time that welcomed women participants—a year earlier than the Boston and New York Marathons opened their fields to women. (In fact, the amateur rules at the time prevented women from running for more than a mile and a half in competitive races.) Syracuse had reason to be progressive: Syracuse University student Kathy Switzer had been the first official woman runner at the Boston Marathon three years earlier, having entered the race under the name "K.V. Switzer." Though Boston attempted to literally pull her from the race, Syracuse welcomed her with open arms, and she was the sole female runner in 1970. The race—run along a loop route from Liverpool to Baldwinsville and back again—took on new sponsorship the following year (First Trust and Deposit Company, now Key Bank), and the number of entrants more than doubled to ninety-six. After this race was termed "an artistic success by competitors and officials," the North Area YMCA, coordinator of the marathon, and Mel Slotnick, YMCA volunteer, "made [plans] immediately to bring a world-class event to Syracuse" the following year, extending an invitation to the National Amateur Athletic Union to hold their 1972 Marathon Championship in Syracuse (the winner of which would gain a spot in the Olympic Marathon Trials)(Post-Standard, May 10, 1971). Not only were they successful in this campaign, but the Championship race also turned out to be the first in which the NAAU recognized women as competitors, drawing even greater attention to the race and Syracuse. The marathon registered 200 runners (including four women)—another 100 percent increase in participation.

Throughout the 1970s, the marathon continued, although with various changes in sponsorship (most comically, the 1978 and 1979 Burger King Marathon—though this may have also been a Slotnick connection). Entrant totals increased, with a few notable runners toeing the line: Kathy Switzer (who ran the race several times), Pete Pfitzinger (ran the course as part of the National Sports Festival) and former Syracuse City School Superintendent Lionel "Skip" Meno, who ran the inaugural race. Other races and promotional events were held in tandem with the marathon: mini-marathons for county schoolchildren, 1 and 5 mile runs, 10K road races, a 30K and 50K cycling competition. In 1981, the course hosted three separate marathons during the course of the summer: the newly-sponsored Milk Run, Empire State Games and National Sports Festival. Once again, Syracuse was on record pace to becoming the "national amateur sports capital."

And then they hit the wall.

In 1980, the American Dairy Association and Dairy Council assumed sole sponsorship of the Syracuse spring marathon (the North Area YMCA was a co-sponsor with varying corporate sponsors from 1971-1977). Based on the successful 1981 season, Dr. Donald Maron, a local podiatrist who had served as one of three selected podiatrists for the 1980 Olympic Marathon Trials, suggested to Race Director and Dairy Association employee Christine Hubbard to submit an application to The Athletic Congress (an outgrowth of the Amateur Athletic Union and then- governing body for the sport of track and field) to bid for the TAC National Championship. Just like a decade earlier, Syracuse was chosen to play host, selected over cities such as Cleveland and Ottawa that also ran marathons at the same time (and still do). Unlike 1972, the sport had undergone many political and financial changes. Although runners did have corporate sponsors, much of their income came from prize monies or appearance fees. The top runners of 1982, such as Alberto Salazar and Bill Rogers, had nothing to gain from running a championship race where the prize was the mere honor of winning (and a "trip to the Catskills," the prize for the top four male and female finishers); at the time, Salazar had just won the Boston Marathon a month earlier, and was world-record holder for the fastest marathon time (run six months earlier at the New York Marathon). Without the appearance of these runners, the championship was just that in name only, and would not draw any national attention to Syracuse.

From the beginning, Hubbard insisted she would not pay big name runners to enter.

"My main concern is for the average runner—they're happy to break 3:30—not for the person who can run 2:15," Hubbard said. "This marathon is really for the average runner." (Post-Standard, May 14, 1982)

It's true that Hubbard had a very prescient point—recent commentaries have called into question the necessity of appearance fees for elite marathoners, as there is not necessarily more money to be made by doing so, and the increased popularity of marathons for various other criteria reduces or eliminates the need for elite marathoners for publicity. However, at the time, Hubbard had placed a bid for a national championship, and then publicly championed runners who could barely run three and half hour marathons. Needless to say, Maron, who pushed for the bid, voiced his anger:

"We couldn't have gotten a Salazar, I know that," said Maron, "but we could have gotten world-class in here...she had nothing (advertised) in Boston. She had nothing in Buffalo. All of it is an embarrassment to a lot of people, even the city of Syracuse. She made this thing into a nothing." (Post-Standard, May 14, 1982)

Hubbard's response:

"I'm going to do what I always do, which is run a good race. I'm providing the arena for a championship event, but I don't feel it's up to me to go out and recruit the runners." (Post-Standard, May 14, 1982)

Both then and now, it actually would be the job of the race director—Hubbard's title—to recruit the runners, even those of average status. A race director would have difficulty gaining corporate sponsors—Hubbard's other title—if the runners weren't there to make sponsorship worthwhile. And yet, Hubbard was both race director and corporate sponsor, which meant that as soon as corporate sponsorship disappeared, so too would the race. So when Maron "promised..to bring the marathon championship back to Syracuse next year, preferably on a different date with a different sponsor...going to try and talk Budweiser into sponsoring it next year," it's not surprising to learn that after the results (won by 24-year old federal employee Joel Menges, in 2:32:37, approximately 24 minutes slower than Salazar's Boston Marathon time), there is no further mention of a Syracuse spring marathon in the newspapers.

As we know, notable races did not disappear entirely from Syracuse: the Mountain Goat Run, started during the late '70s running boom, continues to this day, as well as many local shorter distance races. The week following the May 16, 1982 marathon debacle saw the inaugural running of the Dynamis 15K, a road race held in Manlius that featured Dick Beardsley, one month after his second-place finish in the Boston Marathon, and winner Herb Lindsay, who was on pace to finish in American record time, until—in what only seems appropriate for car-centric Syracuse—a tanker truck allowed to travel along the race route forced Lindsay to stop and let the truck pass. In a complete twist from the Milk Run scenario, Dynamis was willing to spend $5000 for top runners (the reported appearance fee for Bill Rogers for the 1983 race)(Post-Standard, May 20, 1983), but Manlius fought holding the race in the town, citing concerns of "vandalism" by spectators (Post-Standard, April 29, 1982). The race reached national status as one of Runner magazine's "top competitive men's master races," but was discontinued in 1985, due to lack of funding.

In the 1970s, when the city looked arguably worse (there was a gaping hole in the ground, for goodness sake!), Syracuse celebrated the outdoors. Yet as the willingness to pay disappeared, so too did the opportunities. Not the payment of cash to elite athletes or neighborhood schoolkids for walks or races, but payment of time, risk and comfort to get a pedestrian (runner, cycling, etc. friendly) community. Just as school kids didn't walk 10 miles without giving up their Sunday afternoon, or marathoners didn't run 26.2 miles without giving up every day but their Sunday afternoon, Syracusans may have to give up some commuting time and take down the elevated 81 in order to get a thriving downtown. Runners risk injuries from minor muscle strains to major stress fractures just to cross the finish line; Syracusans may have to risk a bad hair day by walking in a shopping environment that is not climate-controlled. But maybe to get to that Syracuse of tomorrow, we have to hold a walkathon or marathon on the streets of downtown Syracuse—including the elevated stretch of 81—today. At the very least, it would guarantee an annual cleanup of the streets (after all, you can't expect thousands of cars to drive over discarded water cups the next day). Most importantly, it would allow people to fully experience the street-level views of Syracuse, both good and bad. To appreciate what works, and as for what does not—well, there would be 26.2 miles of running and walking to think of what could be.

May 6, 1979

Well, this infection certainly came out of nowhere, didn't it? Frightening that this one rarity has come to dominate the lives of previously unsuspecting millions, yourself included. Suddenly you're spending countless hours scouring the internet, finding out about its history, its movement, studying past behavior to predict its future. Calling toll-free hotlines late at night because the question of safety is at stake. Despite talk of pay freezes and furloughs at work, you don't think twice about spending money on every item that's associated with this worldwide fever. Yes, if there is one thing Adam Lambert has taught this country in the past few weeks, it is that obsessions are recession-proof.

This has certainly always been the case in the world of sports. Neither swine flu nor a troubled economy has kept Fenway Park from continuing to hold the major league record for consecutive sellouts (476 since May 15, 2003). 55,000 Patriots fans continue to wait for the opportunity to pay up to $169 per seat per game for season tickets. And in Downtown Syracuse, 800 runners showed up every Saturday this spring to train for the Mountain Goat Run, which drew almost 2000 runners to Clinton Square last Sunday. As a runner myself, I witnessed a similar phenomenon also this past Sunday in Providence, as 3300 runners (and hundreds more non-running relatives and friends) gathered in an otherwise sleepy Downtown Providence at 8 am for the 2nd annual Providence Rhode Races. If you build it, they will come, and perhaps nowhere is this more true than running. (Except for baseball stadiums, of course.)

Unfortunately, Syracuse has long been obsessed with a national pasttime that is about as tired as American Idol sans Adam: the enclosed shopping mall. You might say that I'm obsessed with the topic myself, being as I've touched on it many times before, but I can't help to contemplate why it is that 36 years after Syracuse leaders suggested building a glass roof over Salina Street as an improvement for Downtown, current Syracuse residents are still suggesting building a glass roof over Salina Street as an improvement for Downtown:

[suggestion for beautifying Downtown on the CNY Speaks Arts & Aesthetics agenda]
1) Enclose a portion of a downtown street with a roof similar to the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele in Milan or downtown Las Vegas.

And let's not forget, in 1979, when a Syracuse architect expressed his own unique vision for the revitalization of downtown:

"Picture it: You're in a two-level mall running the length of Salina Street. Sunshine streams in through a glass roof...This enclosure would cover Salina from Water Street to Fayette; Fayette to Jefferson; Jefferson to Onondaga and include the floor area across the street."

Yes, much like a snowglobe, where everything that's shaken up always settles exactly the same, Syracuse has long been obsessed with enclosing the city with glass.

In spring 1979, major retailers were abandoning Downtown Syracuse at a rapid pace. One year earlier, both Woolworth and Kmart announced their plans to leave downtown as soon as their leases were up. Witherell's closed their downtown store on January 31, 1979. In the May 6, 1979 edition of Empire Magazine, a supplement to the Syracuse Herald-American, architect David Ashley discussed his proposal to stop this retail hemorrhage : the Syracuse Regional Shopping Center.

"Walkways on the upper level are as wide as the sidewalk, with cross-overs at "street corners" and in the middle of blocks...Existing sidewalks on the lower level would remain but the street portion, about 50 feet wide, would be split into retail areas similar in size, but not in character, to the Center of Progress Building booths during State Fair week. Plans call for 50,000 square feet of such mini-mall space for hundreds of tenants, artists, craftsmen, food dealers, even shops selling insurance or snowmobiles, adding variety and interest. The upper deck would double the available street level store front area and would allow retail development in empty second floors, even third floors--which might also be turned into high-price apartments."

Sound familiar? No, not the mall and office complex downtown that promised to be "the focal point for the entire region, particularly because of the quality of its design...the design includes a large glass enclosed area "(Syracuse Herald-Journal, December 23, 1981), nor the DeWitt mall with "the glass, 26-foot cathedral ceilings will make you feel like you're walking through an open-air market" (Advertising Supplement to the Post-Standard, August 22, 1991). Ashley believed this downtown shopping center would "turn Syracuse into a major tourist attraction, luring visitors in unprecedented numbers," stating "'cities such as Toronto, Philadelphia, Salt Lake City and Boston have reversed a trend. The major downtown redevelopment projects there have been more successful than some of the suburban centers.'" One of the mall projects featured prominently in a sidebar in the article is Philadelphia's Gallery:

In Philadelphia, a long-range, $500 million project will transform five blocks of run down, century-old structures into a new shopping-office-hotel district.
The Gallery Shopping Complex is the first step in the plan, consisting of a four-level enclosed mall anchored by two large department stores, with landscaped courts and specialty shops. Since the Gallery, a $55 million project, opened, nearly 100 percent of its space has been rented.
"It certainly is bringing a lot of revenue into the city of Philadelphia," noted Frances Paciotti of the Greater Philadelphia Chamber of Commerce.
Paciotti is convinced downtown malls will become more and more popular in the future.

The Gallery was originally anchored by two downtown department stores (Strawbridge & Clothiers and Gimbels), which ultimately meant disaster for the mall:

I probably don't NEED to reiterate what so many have said here, but hell, it's fun, and I want to offer my take. This is about as bad as downtown Philly gets, which to me is actually saying quite a lot. As soon as you step foot into The Gallery, you instantly feel like you need a shower. It just has that imposing grimy feel to it that you can't quite place, but you know if you held one of those groovy UV lights up in it when it was all dark, you'd see the most disgusting proof of humanity's existence splashed all over everything.

Sure, there are stores like Old Navy, Burlington Coat Factory, and Kmart (see accompanying review for that turd as well), but you don't really want to go into any of them at The Gallery. All the versions of those stores at this weirdo excuse for a mall (really it seems more like the reality of some lousy urban planner's lunch that he vomited up one day) came straight from Hell. If you've ever seen the movie Jacob's Ladder, you'll instantly know what I mean. This place is just skeevy beyond belief.

The only reason I'm usually at this place is because one of the trains I take plops me off at Market East Station, which is featured in the very bowels of The Gallery. But it's actually the nicest thing there, because you know you'll be getting away from there soon when heading outbound.

While Philadelphia's Gallery currently has a large number of vacancies and considered a notorious hangout for teenagers, it does continue to serve one important purpose: Market East Station, a SEPTA regional rail station, opened at the mall in 1984. The station serves as a transfer point for several local trains, as well as NJ Transit buses. The Philadelphia Greyhound Bus Station is also located just north of the station. Similarly, architect Ashley envisioned the construction of an "ultra-modern transportation system" as critical to the success of the Syracuse Regional Shopping Center:

[Ashley] suggests a rapid transit bus center. This would service express buses from suburban "park and ride" lots, complete with small heated stations. It would be easily accessible and have an enclosed connection, via moving sidewalk, to the mall...In addition, existing rail lines on the west side of downtown could lead into a new rail transportation center, creating a regional rapid transit system with possibilities for future expansion...A suspended cable car system, similar to those at many ski areas, would start at the south end. It would go to the Syracuse University area with stops at the hospitals...('It would be a big asset for the domed stadium," Ashley said.)

Although David Ashley's Syracuse Regional Shopping Center vision never came to pass, it is interesting to note that Ashley is now the in-house Director of Environmental Design at Ashley McGraw Architects, and referred to as "godfather of green design" in Central New York. His firm highlights their experience in sustainable design, with one of their major projects being the new Syracuse Center of Excellence building. While I honestly don't know much about the Center of Excellence, I do understand that it is a centerpiece of Syracuse as the Emerald City. What I don't understand is why every discussion of the green initiative in Syracuse always mentions Carousel Center addition/Arendi/DestiNY USA.

"We have DestiNY, which is focused on building the largest green shopping mall in the country. Or the world?" Schumer said.

The senator peered out into the crowd seeking the answer, but got no help.

"Anyway, it's very big and very green," Schumer said to a round of laughter.

No new enclosed malls have opened in the country since 2006, but Syracuse is not only celebrating whatever is currently being built at Carousel Center, but then acting as if this is on the forefront of environmentalism as well. Even thirty years ago, Ashley realized "the mall with sophisticated public transit link-up will be more attractive as the energy crises forces motorists to cut back on auto travel." Nowhere on the current DestiNY green initiatives list do I see any mention of a link-up with railroad tracks or the Regional Transportation Center, although there are those 60 special green parking spots for those with enough disposable cash to buy a new hybrid car. And the 19,000,000 kWhs of electricity coming from renewable sources at the Carousel Center--apparently equivalent to taking more than 2,300 cars off the road for one year--which is especially significant, given that the vision of DestiNY USA is to be "a place some 130 million people can reach within a single day’s drive." (But perhaps some of the trash thrown from the cars from those millions of visitors onto Interstates 81 and 690 can be recycled into renewable energy!)

Why is it that a city that chose to pursue green technology because it identified environmental and energy systems as its strongest regional assets still wants to spend its leisure time under a glass roof? Is it the obsession, or have Syracusans been in enclosed malls for so long that they can no longer think outside the box?

COMING SOON: PART II
May 14, 1982
The Road Race Less Traveled

April 26, 2009

Update to last June's June 30, 1949 entry:

I received an email from the Onondaga Historical Association's Dennis Connors on Friday that the time capsule has been found!

Dennis said that although they did not have luck finding it before demolition of 321 South Warren Street started, it was spotted on Friday by a demolition backhoe operator, when the building was about 80% demolished. Apparently the capsule is still sealed and the OHA is going to ask the public via a Post-Standard opinion poll whether it should be opened now or if the original intent should be honored and wait until 2050.

While I suppose there may be some honor in waiting until 2050, I frankly don't see it. The capsule was buried with the intent that it would be opened on the 100th anniversary of the bank. The bank itself was gone less than a decade later due to mergers, and now, the city has demolished the building as well. What exactly would be celebrated upon its opening in 2050? A structurally sound building that was destroyed 41 years earlier for a parking lot? It would be like holding on to a time capsule buried in one of the urban renewal casualties and opening it today.

Of greater concern is that according to the original list of items put in the capsule (as printed in the Post-Standard, January 22, 1950), there are "special films donated by WSYR and WHEN showing the progress of local television and local news highlights of 1949." Another article (Syracuse Herald-Journal, January 17, 1950) states the WSYR film is "several hundred feet of a 15mm movie film showing progress of WSYR-TV's construction to date." Shouldn't these be removed now, so they can be digitized? The capsule was (and apparently still is) sealed, but it was in a basement, and it's possible that the films may have degraded already. I would hate to think the city is losing valuable resources just to keep a nostalgic promise (especially considering the many others that have been broken).

April 9, 1967

Last I heard, Syracuse needed a job. Tens of thousands of them, in fact. This being the case, has Syracuse taken a look at its resumé recently?



First, if Syracuse wants to be the cutting-edge green technology "Emerald City," (and it doesn't, according to this webpage, but rather "A City for All Seasons"), why is its web site design exactly the same as it was five years ago? Even five years ago, it looks like something that had been created five years earlier. Script typeface? And three different ones, at that? What, was Comic Sans not available?



There are approximately three dozen significant community and neighborhood parks in Syracuse. Perhaps we should not allow just one of them to own a whole department. Or just hope that not knowing how to correctly use apostrophes doesn't reflect badly upon the city school system.

And the "Community Videos" page:



Really? It took more than two dozen business sponsors, seemingly upchucked on the page, to fund this series of videos, which YouTube or Vimeo could host for free? Certainly it couldn't be the production costs, as it appears that the same dozen or so clips are used in every video. (Not to mention the exact same series of videos—with Rochester images—are on the Rochester, NY website, except their "Welcome Message" is "Coming Soon.") And about those pictures: you might want to go a little less literal and more metaphorical when discussing Syracuse as "the crossroads of New York." Aerial photographs of elevated highways bisecting a downtown in six different directions haven't been a selling point for cities since the Cold War.

Speaking of cold, eleven videos about the Syracuse community and not a snowflake in sight? Besides the need to play to one's strengths, honesty is important, Syracuse—you don't want to be hired and get caught in a lie.

Despite 172 municipally owned and maintained parks, fields, inactive cemeteries and medians/traffic islands, Syracuse has frequently missed the forest for the trees. A bizarre rebranding campaign that seems to celebrate the literary pride of Chittenango instead of picking up a copy of Ithaca's own Strunk & White. 1.5 million dollars to install new benches downtown, to sit among litter that still lines the streets. And in 1967, when Syracuse was preoccupied with tearing down historic buildings in hopes of revitalizing downtown, city leaders not only missed, but openly mocked, a simple opportunity to promote Syracuse during a six-month period of time when over fifty million people drove right by their doorstep.

In April 1967, the city of Montreal was about to open the doors to Expo '67, the first World's Fair following the 1964 New York World's Fair. Much like the New York fair, Expo '67 featured an emphasis on future technology, centered around the theme "Man and His World." Buckminster Fuller built the geodesic dome that served as home for the US pavilion (similar to what he later designed for Disneyworld's EPCOT center). Syracuse University Industrial Design students were personally invited to the Expo to show the full scale model of the all-electric car they had designed for the "neighborhood of tomorrow." The car, named "Shuttle 1984," carried two to four passengers and was powered by a fuel cell, designed by students "to eliminate pollution...work[ing] on the assumption that by 1984, this type of car might be the only one allowed in certain communities." (Post-Standard, April 1, 1967). Crucible Steel was used in the creation of Montreal's subway system: "look for it when you ride the Metro—it's in the escalators, the turnstiles, the trains, and even the signposts." (Post-Standard, April 26, 1967).

Early estimates assumed that over 30 million visitors would make the trip to Montreal between April and October 1967. Needless to say, cities along the driving route—and especially within a day's driving distance—were thrilled about the potential marketing and tourism opportunities. Plattsburgh, as the nearest American city to Montreal, kept their Chamber of Commerce open 16 hours a day, and offered "courtesy nickels" to cars parked overtime at meters, stressing this is Plattsburgh's "first — and perhaps the last — opportunity to meet five million persons in such a short time, and to impress them so that they will want to see [the city] again" (Post-Standard, April 19, 1967). St. Lawrence County Chamber of Commerce launched "Expo-sure," a series of courtesy workshops and orientation programs for all county employers, as "the county can not afford to miss this once in a lifetime opportunity." (Post-Standard, April 29, 1967) Vermont went all out, placing full-page ads in newspapers such as the Syracuse Herald-American (February 26, 1967):



Syracuse, located a five-hour drive from Montreal, and directly along the route of any Expo visitors traveling from the South, had its own tourism campaign:


Rochester—a full day's drive away from Montreal—tied in its Lilac Festival with Expo '67, Cortland appointed a special committee to see how they could attract Expo visitors, and Syracuse, apparently too busy with razing the Wood Hotel, one of the first poured concrete structures in the city and headquarters for many of the vaudeville actors who played at Keith's and Loew's (Syracuse Herald-American, April 9, 1967), didn't really see the point in taking advantage of gaining the attention of any of the 50 million visitors that eventually attended Expo '67. According to an April 9, 1967 article in the Syracuse Herald-American, the Syracuse Chamber of Commerce had done little to lure Expo visitors to stay in the city's hotels, shop at its stores, or enjoy any local attractions. How little?

Fulton: several thousand brochures telling about Oswego County were placed for free distribution at the state pavilion at Expo 67 (Post-Standard, April 28, 1967)
Syracuse: According to Spencer Wallace, president of the local Hotel-Motel Association, the group put up "a new bulletin board at the Thousand Islands side of the international bridge which invit[ed] people to come to Syracuse."

Auburn: The Auburn Chamber of Commerce pooled its resources with several other local Chambers, including Canandaigua and Seneca Falls, to hire a man to visit places where they think Expo travelers will stop and distribute information about the Finger Lakes Region
Syracuse: According to Leslie Parnell, executive director of the Syracuse Automobile Association, "We are not doing anything but our overall organization is routing some traffic through here...[we are] taking care of [our] members by booking travelers into trailer parks in Canada."

Buffalo: Buffalo Area and Convention Bureau's mailing envelopes printed with information about the Expo and reminding travelers of Buffalo's proximity to Canada
Syracuse: According to Chris Paskalides, Syracuse Convention Bureau manager, Syracuse had "advertise[d] in several Canadian magazines"

Ithaca, Oswego, Auburn, Massena, Malone and Utica: set up special information booths along their thruway and/or highway exits providing visitors with materials on Expo as well as what to do and where to stay in each city
Syracuse: According to Syracuse Chamber of Commerce Publicity Director Richard Grimshaw, when asked about what the Chamber is doing to attract visitors in Syracuse: "well, we are not running an advertising campaign in Ohio saying while on your way, stop in Syracuse."

In fact, the only Expo related signage in Syracuse in 1967 was taken down after Governor Nelson Rockefeller signed a bill changing the name of the Exposition (itself an officially abbreviated version of New York State Agricultural and Industrial Exposition) back to the New York State Fair (Syracuse Herald-Journal, April 12, 1967).

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While discussing how to "sell" Oswego County to Expo visitors, the Oswego County Tourism Council came to an important realization:

Most of last night's discussion, however, centered around local promotion as the council's objectives—and ways and means of achieving them—began to crystallize. It was pointed out that before the county can be sold to tourists from outside, local inhabitants have to be made aware of the attractions in their own back yard. (Post-Standard, April 28, 1967)

It should be no surprise that Syracuse did not promote itself during Expo '67, as 1967 Syracuse did not have a clue as to its identity. The landscapes of both downtown and suburban Syracuse were changing on a daily basis, with both seemingly fighting to control the destiny (no pun intended) of the city. The April 12, 1967 Syracuse Herald-Journal featured a half-page photo of the Onondaga Interchange under construction, titled—no joke—"Can of Worms":

The giant "can of worms," as it is called by construction workers, is rapidly changing from engineers' drawings into functional, fast-moving, complex highway system. Looking west from Syracuse's Catherine Street-Erie Boulevard West area, road at bottom of picture is Route 81 northbound. It will hook up with Route 690 eastbound. Directly above that span is Route 690 ramp connecting with Route 81 southbound. Curved steel at upper left is hookup from Route 81 to Route 690, and span going across top of picture is Route 690 east and west. All spans are part of the Onondaga Interchange.

Syracuse had no idea where these roads led to in 1967, and forty-two years later, we are still trying to escape the maze. Just as the remnants of the US Pavilion at Expo '67 are still visible in Montreal, with the framework of the geodesic dome serving as a environmental sciences museum called Biosphère, the remnants of Syracuse '67 can be seen in a focus group formed to critique a draft agenda created by another focus group formed to discuss downtown revitalization. Although we missed an opportunity to promote Syracuse at Expo '67, let's not miss an opportunity to use Expo '67 when figuring out how to promote Syracuse:

While attending Expo '67 and upon my return, I keep hearing remarks from people who attended the Expo to the effect that the United States exhibit was a big disappoinment and in the next breath praised the Russian exhibit to the high heavens.

The United States' building is beautiful in its structure and in the simplicity of the exhibit. We presented our folklore and our way of life with the displays of Indian lore, cowboy lore, political campaigns, Raggedy Anne dolls and so forth.

When you stop to analyze it, most everything that Russia displayed is something that most every nation has. They have tried to impress the world with the preponderance of their exhibit whereas the United States exhibit has gone to the lighter side and has tried desperately to present and follow the way of life in America.

This, to me, is the real purpose of the World's Fair, and I just could not sit back without voicing an opinion.

Needless to say, I am proud of our exhibit and whoever planned it should be congratulated.

(letter to the editor, sent to both Syracuse Herald-Journal, August 7, 1967 and Post-Standard, August 8, 1967)

While I appreciate the idea behind CNY Speaks, the reality is that focus groups on how to fix Syracuse will always result in a list of opinions as random and distracting as the city's website. Is Syracuse white collar or blue collar? High tech or manufacturing? Town or gown? The current Syracuse promotional videos apparently want to avoid any of these conflicts, and therefore present a city with "something for everyone" (or, as the city website states, a "city for all seasons"). Problem is, by presenting itself as a city with all things for all people, Syracuse has lost focus on what makes it unique.

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In four years, Montreal built artificial islands to serve as the Expo site, constructed 850 pavilions and buildings, and completed the Metro system (as well as the Expo Express, the first fully-automated rapid transit system in North America, and the monorail that ran within the Expo site's parameters). In four decades, Syracuse has built endless wish lists, such as build a permanent bus transfer station:

"The Central New York Regional Transporation Authority and the Urban Development Corps (UDC) are ironing out details for a study of a proposed transportation center in downtown Syracuse... The Authority and UDC currently are firming up an agreement to begin the study, according to an attorney for the authority. Each will kick in $15,000 to pay for it...Frank said the study will update a previous one done by the City-County Planning Commission two years ago...Exactly what the proposed center would include is not yet known. It could be a Greyhound or Trailways station, a downtown or suburban Centro center or a high-speed center to areas such as Syracuse University or Hancock Airport..." (Syracuse Herald Journal, September 16, 1974)

A city center teeming with arts and culture will help attract new businesses and visitors:

"A $3 million development of the pavilion area in the Community Plaza concept, coupled with similar development of Near East Side urban renewal project Sites 1-a and 1-b, yesterday was disclosed by Mayor Walsh...Included in the proposal for the plaza pavilion..are two restaurant facilities, while a theater-restaurant and a movie theater are planned for Sites 1-a and 1-b, immediately south of the plaza...[Commissioner of Urban Improvement George B.] Schuster said I.M. Pei, architect who designed the new Everson Museum of Art that is to be built at State and Harrison Streets adjacent to the plaza pavilion, is to be engaged as design consultant for the dual restaurant center....Schuster said Pei also will be engaged as design consultant for a prestige movie theater and theater-restaurant in Sites 1-a and 1-b of the urban renewal area under the revised plans. This would assure a continuity of design within the general area......first rights for the operation of the theater portion of the site redevelopment [will be offered] to RKO Keith's and ABC-Paramount. Both of these theaters on South Salina Street are to be removed to make way for Sibley's Department Store..." (Post-Standard, April 18, 1965)

Find strategies that would make other forms of public transportation feasible in Syracuse:

"Could the 96,000 people who commute into downtown Syracuse each day use a modern, comfortable and air conditioned monorail train? The monorail at the [New York] World's Fair is for sale at a bargain $1.1 million. It is estimated it would cost another million or more to install the train here. But the train cost $5.5 million when built. Total cost for a modern 21-mile-long mass transit system for Greater Syracuse: Perhaps $2.1 million." (Syracuse Herald-Journal, September 15, 1965)

Perhaps it is time for Syracuse to focus on projects that will have an immediate and tangible impact on revitalizing Syracuse. For example:

Beautiful weather. Kids out of school. Parents looking for something to keep them busy close to home...They all came together last week in Central New York, creating a crush at local parks...The parking lot was full every day at the Rosamond Gifford Zoo at Burnet Park. But that didn't stop people...Some parked on the street and made the long walk. [emphasis added]...The Beaver Lake Nature Center had to use its overflow parking lot, said Bruce Stebbins, the park director...At Onondaga Lake Park, kids were lining up for turns in the skate park to bike, inline skate or skateboard, said Dale Grinolds, the park superintendent. (Post-Standard, April 20, 2009)

Did anyone think to take some pictures and post them on the city's website?