February 1901

As Syracuse approaches the 75th anniversary of the elevation of the railroad tracks, this blog will revisit the history leading up to this most divisive decision. Call it (Dis)Union Station, if you will.

In all my trip in the West I saw no city situated as is Syracuse is in the matter of railroads. The railroads invariably along the line of the Southern Pacific, where the towns are new and the railroad controls the town, either did not go into the heart of the city or were raised or depressed. (Mayor James McGuire, quoted in Post-Standard, May 6, 1901)

Grade Crossing Elimination in Rochester, Sunday Herald, April 23, 1899

While Syracuse has been known for having some staggeringly long lead times for its municipal projects, perhaps none quite matches grade crossing elimination. By 1900, Syracuse had managed to build miles of sewers and paved roads, but could not remove grade crossings in the city, most notably on Washington Street. As pictures and postcards of the era captured, the New York Central Railroad ran down the center of Washington Street, sharing the road over the years with streetcars, horses, wagons, buses, autos and pedestrians. Syracuse wasn't alone as a city with dangerous grade crossings, but some of these other upstate cities, such as Rochester, had elevated their rail tracks by the turn of the century. Mayor James McGuire, referred to as "The Boy Mayor" due to being only 27 years old at the time of his election in 1896, made grade crossing elimination a priority. In 1899, the city hired a renowned engineer, Henry B. Seaman, to propose a solution to the city's grade crossing problem. In April 1899, the Evening Herald announced the news that Seaman had arrived at a solution for the abolition of grade crossings:

Engineer Seaman has proposed two plans after the exhaustive study of the conditions. One of these, which he regards as the most desirable, is known as the West Shore plan, because, while it sends no freight trains through the city, it contemplates the elevation of the West Shore tracks for the use of the passenger trains of the Central, the West Shore and the Chenango Valley roads. The other plan, which is based on the suggestion of William R. Hill, Chief Engineer and Superintendent of the Water Department, contemplates the bringing of the passenger trains of these roads, like those of the Rome, Watertown and Ogdensburgh road, into the city, from the north and the northwest by means of a loop from tracks north of the city, the West Shore tracks, as well as the Central tracks in Washington Street, being abandoned.

drawing from Henry B. Seaman's plan, Evening Herald, April 10, 1899

 
Granted, this would be no small undertaking:

The plans presented provide for a stupendous public improvement, and the accompanying estimates show the cost will be two and a half millions of dollars [sic]. According to the State law, one half of the expense of abolishing grade crossings is borne by the railroad companies, one-fourth by the State, and one-fourth by the city.  (Evening Herald, April 10, 1899)

Although Mayor McGuire mentioned the elimination of grade crossings in his speech accepting the Democratic nomination for re-election six months later, by 1901, not only had no progress been made, but the state proclaimed that it only had $100,000 to contribute to Syracuse for such a project:

The words of the annual report of the Board of Railroad Commissioners of New York State, as made public yesterday, are important in the grade crossing discussion. Referring to Syracuse, the report says:

The subject of the abolishment of grade crossings of the railroads in the city of Syracuse has been under consideration in that city. The board has had some correspondence with the city on this subject, and has had filed with it a general plan for the work.

It is evident, however, that the cost will be so great that the appropriation made by the State [$100,000], even though it were entirely apportioned to the city of Syracuse, would not be sufficient in any one year to pay the State’s proportion of the expenses. (Post-Standard, January 16, 1901)

One week later, when a Post-Standard reporter asked Edgar Van Etten, Superintendent of the New York Central Railroad, about the railroad’s assistance in grade crossing elimination in Syracuse, Van Etten asked why the railroad should even consider such a question:

“In the first place,” said Mr. Van Etten, “there is little reason why we should take active steps in this matter and spend millions of dollars as long as we have the right of way through Washington Street for nearly twenty-five years more. It will be remembered that not many years ago the New York Central paved and reconstructed its tracks from Pine Street to the station at Franklin Street. In round numbers this work cost about $150,000 and the new station which was constructed about the same time cost not less than $270,000.

I know of no corporation that is fond of spending this amount of money and then do the work all over again in the course of a few years at a still greater expense. When we placed the street in its present condition there was a contract drawn up giving us the right of way for twenty-five years.” (Post-Standard, January 24, 1901)

Mayor McGuire appeared undaunted by this revelation, still hoping to enlist the assistance of the New York Central in the grade crossing elimination project. This brief one-sentence news item appeared in the Feb. 3, 1901 edition of the Post-Standard:

Mayor Inquires About Grade Crossings
The Mayor has again written to S.R. Callaway of the New York Central to see if the Central is going to act in the matter of abolishing grade crossings.

One week later, the Mayor received his reply:

New York, Februrary 7, 1901

Honorable James K. McGuire, Mayor of Syracuse, N.Y.:

Dear Sir—I am in receipt of your favor of the 31st ultimo, with reference to grade crossings in your city. My absence from the city has prevented an earlier reply.

This company is extremely anxious to abolish all dangerous grade crossings as rapidly as possible and is constantly spending large sums of money for that purpose. The plans of the Board of Railroad Commissioners have uniformly had our approval and active-cooperation. We have also gladly united with municipalities for the same purpose in any improvement which could be made on fair terms, as in the case of Albany, to which you refer.

I have every reason to believe that the directors would authorize a similar course in Syracuse, but the expense would be so large as to constitute a considerable burden upon the city as well as a much larger one upon the company.

I therefore asked you, at the conference which I had with yourself and other representatives of Syracuse, to advise me what share of the cost, in your city, the city would consent to bear. I understand that you expected to take this inquiry under consideration and give me an answer, but I have not yet received one.

The answer to this inquiry is especially pertinent and important because the company has so recently incurred a large expense in satisfying what it believed to be the wishes of the people of your city.

Callaway continues on, explaining the right-of-way contract that had never been mentioned at the time of the 1899 Seaman plans, despite being signed only seven years earlier:

As you are aware, the right to use Washington Street was granted to the predecessors of this company many years ago. The meaning of some expressions in the grant was at times the subject of some contention between the city and the company, and as lately as 1892, when the city was desirous of having Washington Street repaved and the freight facilities of the company increased and a new passenger station built, the city and company, after much deliberation, entered into an agreement under which it paved Washington Street with first class stone pavement on a concrete foundation, according to the plans of your City Engineer, laid a new rail in the same street and agreed in the future to remove all snow and ice from its tracks so that the street should not be obstructed.

It also agreed to enlarge its freight facilities and within two years to construct a new passenger station suitable to the needs of the city. It has carried out this agreement in good faith and your people expressed their approval of the plans of the station which was soon after completed.

In consideration of this action on the part of the company, the rights of the company in the street were confirmed and continued and it was relieved from all obligation in reference to paving for the ensuing twenty-five years.

In these circumstances, if we consent, after a lapse of less than nine of the twenty-five years, to take up the question of eliminating the grade crossings, the expense of the change should be divided between the public and the company upon some fair terms, and I shall be glad to have you indicate what portion of the cost the city would be willing to bear. You are, of course, aware that under the State law, the company bears one-half, the municipality one-quarter and the state one-quarter.

As a matter of fact, the accidents on Washington Street have been very few, and are confined almost wholly to cases where people have attempted to jump on the trains.

Yours truly,
S.R. Callaway
(Post-Standard, Feb. 10, 1901)

The situation proved to be quite baffling. Had Syracuse really entered into such a contract in 1892, a full decade after Rochester had eliminated their grade crossings by elevation? Would Syracuse be stuck with a train running through the center of its city until 1917, at the earliest?  Mayor Jacob Amos, who had entered the contract with the railroad, wrote an article for the Post-Standard one month later on March 17, 1901, explaining how the deal came to be:

It has been customary for the different city administrations for a good many years to antagonize the New York Central Railroad Company and try to compel it to do certain things in a way that did not bring good results. They tried, even, to have the company plank between its tracks east of State Street, which it absolutely refused to do.
…
I discovered that we could not compel the company to make any improvements, as under its franchise we could only compel it to keep the street in proper repair. The phase “proper repair” is a misnomer and means practically nothing. That is a construction that was given to it in the high courts.
…
Mr. Vanderbilt and Dr. Depew came here on a special train to see me and I asked them not only to pave Washington Street to State Street, but to do so for the entire length of the street, also to erect a new station and make improvements in their freight yard and in their freight house.

After consulting with them a number of times, they agreed to comply with all these requests if we would release them from further paving the street for a term of twenty years, they to repair any part of the pavement that they might destroy. This I considered a good contract since we could not compel them to pave the street.

While Mayor Amos had accomplished much during his two terms as mayor, including completing the municipal water system (started under Mayor Kirk) and introducing a new sewer system into the city, his negotiating power could never have matched the first tycoon, Cornelius Vanderbilt. Yet this may very well have been a good contract in Mayor Amos’ view, as his main concern was paving Washington street, and not grade crossing elimination:

In relation to eliminating the crossings in the central part of the city, I do not think at this time there is any very great demand from the citizens of Syracuse to do away with the tracks and also with the new station. Attention has been called to that improvement, and I have no doubt in time it will be done, but how soon I cannot say.

He also, perhaps, did not want to be the mayor associated with elevation:

There is quite a question in my mind if the citizens of Syracuse would like an overhead structure over James Street that would last us practically during this whole generation. They might want to have that changed again in ten or fifteen years.

Mayor Amos concluded his editorial by informing the citizens of Syracuse that they were essentially powerless in the face of the relatively new entities of corporations:

I have come in contact in the past few years with very large corporations, and it has been my observation that little is to be gained by trying to force these large companies when the matter is beyond your control, as is the case with the New York Central.

As a citizen I take just as much interest in any improvements for Syracuse as I did when I had more authority. To use a homely expression, “You can catch more flies with molasses than you can with vinegar.” In this case, the New York Central cannot be compelled to do away with its grade crossings unless the city and state carry out their part as laid down by law.

The idea that the city could “catch more flies with molasses” led to slippery slope between acceptance and accommodation, as this editorial by Milton H. Northrup, former Syracuse postmaster and editor of the Syracuse Courier, clearly demonstrates:

The Central-Hudson Railroad owes much to Syracuse, it is true; but what does the city owe to the railroads which center here? What built up Syracuse to a city of an eighth of a million inhabitants at the close of its first half century? Was it the Erie Canal? If so, why do our citizens look with such complacency to the proposition to deprive us of the canal altogether, moving its line miles to the north?...Was it the salt works? They, too, were important factors but they have ceased to be regarded as essential to the city’s life and growth. Take them away altogether, along with the canal, and Syracuse would go on just the same.
But suppose the cities were to be stripped of its railroads: Suppose we had but one within ten miles, where would Syracuse be then? The railroads were the pioneers of our civilization and progress. They are the pillars on which our growth and prosperity rest. We can no more afford to antagonize them than could the members of the body, as described by Esop of old, afford to rebel against the stomach. The obligations are reciprocal, and no horseplay to the galleries should be permitted to array the two in hostility.
…
Some will ask what all this has to do with the change of grade of the Central-Hudson tracks, by elevation or depression. Nothing, I grant. That is a question sooner or later to be met—grade crossings must be abolished. But this will not be brought about by a policy of bulldozing or bluff. Whatever right to our streets comes by priority of possession belongs to the railroad corporation and not to the city. The railroad came first, and when the city came later it found the tracks already down and trains running over them. Under such conditions the Mayor’s policy of coercion seems unlikely to win. An appeal to the company’s sense of justice and good will might bring better results. (Post Standard,March 3, 1901)

While Mr. Northrup argued for the importance of railroads based on the obsolescence of earlier markers of Syracuse history, he failed to comprehend the same could be true for railroads in the future.  If the corporate railroads were the pillars of Syracuse, once they disappeared, Syracuse would be left with, well, pillars. (Or, in a related scenario, concrete bunkers attached to malls.)

***

Shortly after Mayor McGuire received his reply from the New York Central Railroad, he took a two-month leave of absence due to his health:

Mayor McGuire said last night that he would probably leave Sunday for Las Vegas hot springs, New Mexico  where he will remain two months for his health. The trip is being taken by the advice of his physician. The Mayor says he has never fully recovered from the illness he contracted while he was in the South. (Post Standard, February 22, 1901)

McGuire returned nine and a half weeks later (during which time, the president of the common council, Martin Yann, acted as interim mayor) and completed his term, but lost a re-election campaign to Jay Kline. Sadly, the “Boy Mayor” died unexpectedly of a heart attack in 1923, with grade crossing elimination still more than a decade away.

January 16, 1922

"Syracuse is one, division lines are done!"—Official Proclamation, October 23, 1924

The recent passing of former Mayor William Walsh once again brings up a defining issue of post-WWII Syracuse: urban renewal. While the history of that time period will forever be subject to interpretation (and now even more so, as many of the figures responsible for the decisions made during these years are no longer with us), one truth is certain: Syracuse has been a city divided since Walsh's time as mayor.

Of course, Syracuse had also been a divided city under Mayor Henninger: the elevated railroad (later I-690) had been bisecting the city during his leadership, as well as the Mead, Corcoran, Kennedy and Marvin administrations. Mayors Baldwin, Leavenworth, Hovey et al. also governed a split community, with the Erie Canal separating north and south at the heart of the city. Since its founding to present, Syracuse has been a "city united" only under two mayors, over almost ninety years ago. And much like the roaring twenties themselves, the celebration would be over by decade's end.

Official application will be filed with the State Department of Public Works at once by George E. Scherrer, commissioner of public works, for the abandonment of the Erie Canal through this city.

One of the first things Commissioner Scherrer will endeavor to accomplish will be the establishment of an automobile parking station in the bed of the abandoned canal through a section of the heart of the city. (Syracuse Herald, January 16, 1922)

from Syracuse Herald, April 16, 1923

As recently unearthed canals are now the focal point of activity in some communities, planning a week-long jubilee to commemorate the removal of a city's centerpiece in favor of a parking lot is disheartening from a current perspective. But for a city that was expanding rapidly—not to mention with a train running straight through the center—road and pavement held far more promise for the future growth of Syracuse than an abandoned waterway. Far from picturesque, the unused portion of canal became a frequent site of drownings and health hazards:

The Erie Canal between Salina and Clinton streets appears to be a favorite gathering place for scum and refuse. The wind sweeps papers, boxes, pieces of wood and other rubbish into this cove and leaves it there. The wind tends to clear the main channel of the canal of such rubbish, but does not affect such secluded places.

Weeds from the bottom of the canal have grown to the surface and add to the general unsightly collection. They gather the other refuse and aid in giving the canal the general appearance of a dumping place. Tuesday morning there was such a heap of rubbish just east of the Salina Street bridge that the railing was crowded with spectators.

The refuse remains—a menace to public health. (Syracuse Herald, July 13, 1921)

The canal also acted as a physical and psychological barrier to downtown shoppers. Dispelling the notion that streetcar era pedestrians were more inclined to walk a few blocks than today's drivers, merchants located in the 100 and 200 blocks of North Salina Street had to create a marketing campaign to lure potential customers from South Salina Street to their stores on the other side of the canal bridge:

"Shop on the North Side."

This will be the slogan of a campaign to be started immediately by the North Side merchants who have a definite project in mind to make the North Side as much of a business district as that south of the Erie Canal.

The North Salina Street businesses made what might have been the first specific appeal to suburban shoppers to come downtown:

Particular efforts will be made to attract buyers from the rural districts north of the city and adjacent suburban villages. Special inducements will be made to shoppers from Liverpool, Baldwinsville, Cicero, North Syracuse, Kirkville and other nearby places not to cross the canal on their shopping trips in Syracuse. (Syracuse Herald, July 28, 1921)

Though the villages of Salina and Syracuse had merged in 1848 to form the City of Syracuse, the canal remained a dividing line between north and south. Therefore, when the first handful of dirt was thrown into the abandoned Erie Canal on June 23, 1923, residents came together to witness "a day that will have a place among the important dates in the community's history":

A few pounds of earth, shoveled into the historical canal basin at Clinton Square by Dr. Frederick W. Betts, representing the South Side, and John Gang, representing the North Side, served to mark the high spot in the crowded afternoon's program. It symbolized, as Mayor John H. Walrath pointed out, "the erasure of a line that has divided the community and hindered its progress almost from the beginning."

"This," he said, "is an historic moment. The city has at last secured the possession of the old Erie Canal which has split the city in two so harmfully.

"We are today erasing a dividing line, imaginary as though it may be, which has impeded and obstructed the growth and cooperation of the community for many, many years. Today, on our municipal holiday, we hold it fitting to call upon a representative of the South Side and of the North Side to begin the work of blotting out this line.

"They are beginning an improvement which I promise you will progress as rapidly as is humanly possible." (Syracuse Herald, June 24, 1923)

Syracuse Herald, October 28, 1924

As the filling of the canal neared completion, the 100-200 block North Salina Street Merchants once again banded together in an advertising campaign:

The Wonderful Club is organized. It is composed of merchants and others doing business in the 100 and 200 blocks of North Salina Street and its tributaries.


The idea originated when a group of these merchants met the other day for luncheon. Nicholas M. Peters was elected chairman, George T. Schieder, vice-chairman, Wesley Markson, secretary, and W.W. Plumb, treasurer.  (Syracuse Herald, October 24, 1924)

Syracuse Herald, May 11, 1924

The final step towards unification came on October 28, 1924, when the Salina Street bridge was removed. The historic occasion merited a mayoral proclamation:

WHEREAS, To show their appreciation for the filling of the canal, the removal of the historic Salina Street bridge over the canal, the installation of the new street lighting system, and particularly the passing of the old line of demarcation between the North and South Sides of our city, merchants of North Salina Street plan a notable observance of the week of October 27 to November 1; and
WHEREAS, They have adopted as their slogan, "Salina Street is now complete" and "Syracuse is One, Division Lines are Done"—two rallying cries of undoubted appeal in view of the realization of the dreams of years; and
WHEREAS, they seek by elaborate decorations, receptions in their stores and a commemoratory parade on Tuesday evening, Oct. 28, to make the celebration all it should be—a demonstration that the city is in fact "One and Division Lines are Done"; and
WHEREAS, The event is one of even more than city-wide importance in which the co-operating business men, with a fine civic pride, want the entire community to participate; therefore,
I, John Walrath, as Mayor of Syracuse, officially proclaim the week of Oct. 27 to Nov. 1 as "All-Syracuse-for-One-Syracuse Week," and urge all our people to join fully and enthusiastically in the demonstration to mark this epoch in our city's progress. (Syracuse Herald, October 26, 1924)

Syracuse Herald, October 28, 1924

and a week-long celebration and parade, organized by the Wonderful Club:

It's gone forever.

The gash that severed the heart of Syracuse for 100 years is healed.

Even the bandage has been removed.

North and south are one.

Tonight, Syracuse merchants, north and south of what was once the Erie Canal join in celebrating the unification of a city divided psychologically by a ditch that brought prosperity, then natural barriers.

Nobody regrets the digging of the canal. Everybody rejoices at its passing. (Nicholas M. Peters, Syracuse Herald, October 28, 1924)

Syracuse Herald, October 28, 1924

Yet even while the city celebrated the canal being "gone forever," community members knew the unification between north and south could be short-lived, as discussions were already underway about building an elevated railroad through the city:

CONSIDER THIS, SYRACUSANS

Today, for the second time, THE HERALD expresses its satisfaction over the disappearance of the ancient canal boundary between the North and South Sides of Syracuse, which will be signalized by a big celebration and parade tonight.

In the course of our article on the subject in Saturday's issue we said:

Reflection on the situation which has been brought about by this improvement will bring a better realization of the present benefit and an estimate of that which accrues through ensuing years. With what might be termed a physical barrier eliminated there will come a rapid knitting together of what were essentially parts of the municipality. The process of unification, political, social and commercial, will be advanced naturally as the people of the city gradually adopt the new thought of unity.

We repeat these earnest words for the purpose of pointing a moral.

It seems incredible, but it is nevertheless a fact, that while our people are preparing for a carnival of jubilation over the reunion of North and South Syracuse, through the refilling of the canal and the removal of its bridges, certain citizens, led by the Grade Crossing Commission and the local attorney of the New York Central Railroad, are planning for another dividing city barrier far more formidable and forbidding than the old waterway.

Then we should have not only a North Syracuse and a South Syracuse, but also an East Syracuse and a West Syracuse, separated, one from the other, by a monstrous railroad barrier which would outlive the youngest of our inhabitants.

And this is the third decade of the Twentieth Century!

Just imagine what the people of other sane cities will think of Syracuse when they realize that we are actually debating the question of substituting a monumental and permanent nuisance and encumbrance for a lesser one from which we have now been happily delivered.

The public of our threatened city is informed that the matter will actually be submitted to the Syracuse Common Council at an early day. That it can ever go through is unbelievable, unless a majority of the Aldermen have gone daft. Heaven help the officials of our municipality who have anything to do with the appalling proposal! (Syracuse Herald editorial, October 28, 1924)

The Wonderful Club saw that their mission was not over:

The Wonderful Club is now a permanent organization. Hereafter it is to be considered whenever anything comes up that affects the interests of the merchants and businessmen in the district immediately north of where the Salina Street bridge formerly spanned the old canal.

The club objects to the elevation of railroad tracks through the heart of Syracuse. Its members voted at the organization meeting in Turn Hall last night that elevation of the tracks would be worse than the bridge that is now gone forever.

Nothing is to be retained that will indicate the existence of a "North Side" or a "South Side," if the Wonderful Club can prevent it. (Syracuse Herald, November 11, 1924)

Syracuse Herald, November 11, 1924

Some individuals in Wonderful Club became also became the force behind the Future Syracuse Committee, a group that advocated for the "northern route" for the railroad, which would avoid elevated structures in the city. When Mayor Charles Hanna (who defeated John Walrath in 1926 by 887 votes) called for the matter to be put to a public vote in 1927, the two sides debated each other in a series of newspaper editorials and advertisements, with the fight for elevation being taken up by the former mayor who three years earlier had "set fire to an improvised barrier [to] signify the passing of the city's demarcation forever" (Syracuse Herald, October 28, 1924), John Walrath.




"I feel and I think a vast majority of the people feel with me, that the construction of an elevated route through the heart of Syracuse would be a calamity—a calamity that would only be fully understood in the years to come." —Mayor Harry H. Farmer, Syracuse Herald, December 7, 1920

In discussions about the current I-81 controversy, the focus is often on post-WWII Syracuse development: the flight to the suburbs, urban renewal projects such as Upstate Medical and Presidential Plaza, the destruction of the 15th Ward. While these events provide relevant background for I-81 specifically, perhaps the more significant history to discuss in regards to an elevated highway is this: a divided city landscape has been an issue in Syracuse for 163 years. Elevated structures have been part of the conversation for nearly a century. The debate should be as much a part of Syracuse's collective psyche as snow. Yet what has slipped our memory are the leaders who were among the first to speak of these dividing barriers as not only the political matter of the day, but as a defining issue of Syracuse's future. Perhaps this is because these early 20th-century mayors passed away just as the city began to confront the post-war planning issues that led in part to the construction of the elevated I-81. Upon his death in 1957, Mayor Farmer's obituary barely made mention of his time as mayor, focusing instead on his military service and post-mayor career as Syracuse's first Traffic Court judge. But his words about elevated structures could not have been more prescient, as evidenced by a headline just a few inches below his death notice:

Post-Standard, May 2, 1957

***

Syracuse Herald-American, August 17, 1975

Oddly enough, just as the North Salina Street merchants formed a committee to save their businesses as downtown retailers would do thirty-five years later, they were also the first to experience urban renewal-like devastation. At the same time the monorail ran through Edwards, providing children with lasting memories that are now turned to as some sort of guiding force for downtown revitalization, the shops located in the 100-200 block of North Salina Street stared at a fenced-in, empty lot. The Empire House fire wiped out the west side of the 100 block in 1942, resulting in a vacant site until the Atlantic Building opened in 1950 (and then demolished in late 1960s to make way for the Syracuse Newspapers building). Many of the founders of the Wonderful Club had died by this time as well, with their stores going out of business or change of ownership shortly thereafter (although one original Wonderful Club merchant has survived both the Empire House fire and family generations, albeit now in a different location). In the early 1970s, two separate fires ravaged several of the remaining buildings in the 100-block. And in August 1975, an explosion and fire leveled the entire 200-block on North Salina & East Willow Street. The blast occurred the same week as the first SyracUSA festival, a week-long celebration that aimed to bring shoppers to South Salina Street. However, many of the attendees were drawn northward, to view the smoldering remains of the North Salina stores that had planned a similar event for their side of the street nearly fifty years earlier.

When it comes to historical dividing lines, we seem to think of downtown Syracuse as either the fabled glory days of yesteryear or the more recent decades characterized by misguided attempts to recapture that former magic. But we rarely revisit this unique period in Syracuse history: a time when downtown Syracuse was most unified, and yet most divided about its future. The lessons they offer are probably among the most relevant in Syracuse's history, as the city center stood at a crossroads while the (streetcar) suburbs expanded rapidly (with their promises to be located "away from confusion, noise and congestion of the city"), and a decision about an elevated structure that both sides knew would alter the landscape and the city's entire future.

January 1, 1882

In late 1880, the Sunday Herald began a series entitled "The Roads of the City of Syracuse." Written by "A Veteran Syracusan," the weekly column shared—in great detail—the history of all matters related to the Syracuse streets:

STREET SIGN BOARDS.
In the month of April 1839, an order was passed directing that the names of the several streets in the village should be placed on the corners, and this order was soon afterward executed. If present complaints are well founded, a supplementary order of this kind is now greatly needed, not only by strangers, but citizens also. (No. 17 in series, Sunday Herald, February 6, 1881).

In the young, growing city, the "Roads of Syracuse" may as well have been the Page Six of its day, naming the who's who of Syracuse in matters both "concrete" "macadam":

The last assessment ordered by the trustees [in 1847] for work done on the streets of the village, was that for paving Salina Street between Church Street and the Oswego Canal. The parties assessed were Joseph Bouielle, Thomas George, Henry S. Green, Grove Lawrence, Cornelius Lynch, Alexander McKinstry, James McBride, Sidney Stanton, John Townsend, John H. Tomlinson, George B. Walter, Doctor Yates, Congdon & Cary, the County of Onondaga, and the village of Syracuse—the latter for a lot occupied by a hook and ladder house. (No. 18 in series, Sunday Herald, February 13, 1881)

and fanciful:

A REVOLT AVERTED
On April 27th, 1846, the trustees passed an ordinance on petition of John Wilkinson and others, designating that part of Salina Street south of the Erie Canal as Main Street, and all that part of Genesee Street lying north of the canal as "Broadway," and also giving name to Butternut Street. The passage of this ordinance, so far as it related to Salina and Genesee Streets, created much feeling, and was derided as an act of folly, and at the end of two weeks the ordinance was rescinded, and a revolt averted. (Sunday Herald, February 13, 1881)

By early 1882, the "Veteran" had turned his attention to the history of the names of the streets themselves. On January 1, 1882, the 64th column in the series began to relate the stories behind the well-traveled streets in Syracuse. For the next several weeks, the author shared his knowledge of the Syracuse map, providing newcomers with a sense of place, and perhaps for the other "veteran Syracusans," nostalgia. Yet even as he detailed the shifting boundaries and markers of the city—a city that, in many ways, would become unrecognizable in another fifty years' time—the Veteran realized the permanence of the street names:

While the ancient name [of Delhi and Delphi Streets] [have been] applied to modern towns and hamlets, this fact affords no warrant for their introduction into street nomenclature here or elsewhere. It is a serious question whether in such cases as this the Council should not interfere and correct the errors of individuals who persist in giving to streets names that have neither significance or beauty. (Sunday Herald, February 5, 1882).

These streets have gone through many transformations in the 129 years since the publication of this series, but the names bestowed upon them provide lasting reminders of the history of Syracuse.

Click on the Google Map below to read the histories of the streets of Syracuse, as offered by the "Veteran Syracusan" in the Sunday Herald, January-February, 1882.

View The Streets of Syracuse in a larger map

(All information from Syracuse Sunday Herald: January 1, 1882, January 15, 1882, January 22, 1882, January 29, 1882, February 5, 1882, February 12, 1882, February 19, 1882)