Countdown to Main Street

Orange Nostalgia illuminates Main Street

2012-01-16T18:34:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I went to the Orange Nostalgia event at the YWCA on Main Street in Orange. I got my junior and senior life saving certificates at the Y when I was a teen, but I haven't been there in decades. It was delightful to enter the building, which has so many memories, and share an afternoon with Orange historians. Organized by Tony Monica, an avid chronicler of the Orange scene, it was a time to be surrounded with sights and sounds of a place, echoes from many eras that gave our small city a dimension of IMPORTANCE. Tony had brought an aerial photograph of Orange before the freeway was built. It allowed to see the streets I used to walk in their fullness and effectiveness. Donna Williams had brought her uncle's high school yearbook. His classmates included Councilman Ben Jones, for whom a street is named not a 100 yards from the Y. Another classmate was Monty Irvin, who went to become one of the town's very famous sons and for whom the park was named. I brought my Tremont Avenue School 7th grade cooking notebook, with all the Orange Public Schools recipes and instruction pages. Karen Wells brought maps, books, newspaper articles and artifacts from her magnificent collection. Edward Marable brought a flyer advertising home lots in Seven Oaks. "Look at that!" we all said to each other, startled by some face, or notation, or bit of information. Historian Sarah Kirshen wandered through and nodded sagely. "Archives. The raw stuff, the real stuff that helps us understand the past."

"Radical Camera" and attention to the city

2012-01-14T17:02:00.000-08:00

Molly waved me over to see a great photo. "Isn't that just like Ralph Fasanella?" she said, referring to the artist whose paintings of a dense and busy New York captured the city's motion and vivacity. And I replied, "And aren't those balconies packed with people like the balconies we saw in Marseille?" referring to a set of buildings we visited whose balconies were like living rooms with a great view of the Mediterranean.

This conversation took place today at the Jewish Museum. As part of my study of Main Streets, I am a participant-observer with several organizations, including the University of Orange. Today I went on a UofO fieldtrip to see the exhibit, "The Radical Camera," about the New York City Photo League. This was an extraordinary group that promoted a new kind of photography, one that took the evidence of daily life seriously, and raised up the minute-to-minute existence of people. They created "documents," sets of photos focused on one or another neighborhood in the city, often their own neighborhoods, but also others that where people were to be found. Harlem was in the later category.

Paul Manning's showstopper photo depicted a mass of people filling the fire escapes of a building to watch the 1938 Elks Parade go by. That photo was used in an article in Look magazine exploring how Harlem produced Bigger Thomas, and 244,000 other "native sons." The ironies are too many to list, but it's useful to start with the fact that Harlem did not produce Bigger Thomas, he was a fictional character invented by Richard Wright. And, just for fun, let's remember that the 244,000 residents of Harlem weren't all sons. Some were daughters. It's important that that rich photograph of city life, as it is lived at its best moments, was used to depict pathology. It is that distorted thinking, that crowds of people are somehow in poor taste, that led to the desertification of the America's cities, not to mention the clearing of Zuccotti Park.

If we go back to Paul Manning's photo with eyes open to seeing the city on its own terms, we can learn to see the riches of city life, which include many shades of suffering and an equally complex amount of joy.

It is an extraordinary exhibit, and one all urbanists should see.

Frankie Is King

2012-01-08T19:25:00.001-08:00

Tonight I had the privilege of seeing a special benefit reading of King Lear at Luna Stage, my neighborhood theater. At a new production of a well-known play, there's always the possibility that one will learn something new. In this production, starring Frankie Faison as King Lear, what I learned was how King Lear went mad. I have been thinking about madness a lot in recent weeks, as I am writing a chapter of my new book called "Crazy cities and mad plagues." But it was not just that I was thinking about madness. It was also that director Rob Clare and an incredibly able cast dissected the process with heart and attention. Each actor added a unique piece, from the fool's rap to the servant's calling Cordelia to wake her father. By the end, the toll of betrayal had worn us all down. "That was tragic," concluded my niece Jaden, and I was in complete accord.

Mitzvah on Main Street

2012-01-07T14:02:00.000-08:00

Well, if you can find the Messiah on Main Street, you can surely find a mitzvah there, too. And we did! On December 31st, New Year's Eve, we celebrated the Bat Mitzvah of my granddaughter, Lily Pearl Johnson, at Luna Stage on Valley Road, my own neighborhood Main Street. It was a touching and wonderful ceremony, followed by a big party, also in honor of her 16th birthday. It was delightful to see all the teens show up in their New Year's glam outfits.

As events go, it was a smash! But what made it great was the generosity of our neighborhood. Luna Stage was very generous in sharing their beautiful space with us. And no party can be great without great food! Our event was catered by Vinnie Mazzarisi, who's the owner/chef of Mazzi Dogz, the hot dog place right next door. Mazzi Dogz was the best decorated place on Valley Road, giving the whole area a shot of Christmas spirit. Vinnie even put a tree on the roof of the building. Its lights could be seen for blocks. But first and foremost, Vinnie is an outstanding chef. We had roast beef, chicken francaise, salmon, baked zitti and salad. Wonderful! We also had a midnight supper for the teens with hot dogs and sliders.

For the cake, we went just a little ways over to Main Street in West Orange, to Supreme Bakery. Wow! What a cake! Lil choose red velvet, and they recommended the icing and the filling -- it was so good. I highly recommend you just rush over and get one for yourself.

That's not all, of course. Rabbi Fred Dworkin and his wife Cheryl, who live over on South Orange Avenue -- Main Street, South Orange, that is -- prepared Lily for the ceremony and led the beautiful service.

Many friends and family members showed up to help us set up and then clean up. India Kaufman, my son Ken's wife, did a wonderful job decorating -- she has a genius for that.

Herb Way, my Orange High School classmate, did the photography for the event, capturing everyone at their best. He's a great photographer and pays close attention to get every moment.

A mitzvah is a good deed. And, in helping us celebrate Lily's Bat Mitzvah, many of our friends and neighbors pitched in. It takes a village to put on a celebration, and we are so grateful to be part of a village.

The Messiah on Main Street

2011-12-15T08:52:00.000-08:00

Main Street in East Orange is strikingly different from Main Street in Orange or West Orange. It is much more battered, and disjointed. It is not a welcoming place to walk, nor does it seem to be where the Messiah would be found. Or maybe I have that backwards! Maybe that's EXACTLY where the Messiah will be found and should be found. In any event, last Sunday I did find the Messiah on Main Street in East Orange, ably performed by the Essex Chorale, under the intrepid leadership of Dr. DaCosta Dawson. I did find it miraculous: I went in afraid and came out with my spirit soaring. I have circled the date in February for their annual Negro Spirituals Concert, which is the highlight of my year.

Dispossessing the Cure

2011-11-20T06:18:00.000-08:00

Occupy Wall Stret was thrown out of Zuccotti Park and many other occupy encampments were also dispossessed this week. While the stated intention is "restoring cleanliness and order," the deep objective is to break up dissent. The source of the protest, in my view, is the stunning disarray our country finds itself in, with a deep and seemingly endless recession, a huge intractable foreclosure crisis, a massive economic restructuring that will end end decent, longterm employment with good wages and benefits, and a equally endless engagement in wars in other people's countries These problems have shattered the "Amerian Dream" of a Way of Life. The loss of the Way causes root shock, the traumatic stress reaction to the loss of all or part of one's economic ecosystem. The cure for root shock is to make new roots. By encamping in cities all across the US, people began the process of making a new roots and a New Way of Life, both of which are urgently needed. This doesn't mean that we were all going to live in parks -- although if the economic situation gets bad enough, that might happen -- rather I mean that these sites became spaces of conversation, investigating the problems and considering solutions. The encampments started a public conversation about the concentration of wealth which has taken palce over the past 3 decades, but somehomw eluded broad conversation. In the aftermath of the nationwide dispossessions, the conversation will be harder to find and to have, the dissent will be impeded, and the inequality will be able to continue to grow.

Dispossession is a fundamental strategy of the accumulation of wealth, according to geographer David Harvey. In my studies, dispossession impoverishes and paralyzes the dispossessed, while the dispossessers are free to accumlate and function. Occuppy Wall Street is poignant example. Because of donations from around the world, OWS has developed a library of 5,000, which were reportedly thrown in dumpster. Medical supplies, bicycle generators, people's personal goods: all were confiscated and held by New York City. "People's backpacks were taken to a storage facility but they weren't allowed to get them back unless they had proof of purchase or a photograph," my daughter Molly Rose Kaufman told me. As any lost-and-found operates on the simple "can you describe what you lost and what's in it?" this higher level of proof is simply about taking the wealth of the movement, making it poorer.

What happens when the cure is interrupted? While the powers-that-be fear the unrest of the 99%, the interruption of the cure carries dire consequences. The 99% would likely find a healthy solution. The suppression of that conversation can lead to much more terrible paths. For one thing, America is a nation that routine unleashes hatred of people because of their race, creed, color or religion. This is a terrifying spectre of race riots, McCarthyism, anti-Semitism or all of the above.

We are a people in search of a Way of Life, suffering from the loss of our Dream. For however unreal our Dream might have been, it guided us in our daily lives. We urgently need to occupy everything and everywhere, talking and listening until we're blue in the face, and have discovered what happened, what it's like now and what we can do next.

HANDS' 25 Years Celebrated

2011-11-02T07:51:00.000-07:00

HANDS, a community development corporation in Orange, NJ, celebrated 25 years of work at a party at Luna Stage on Valley Road in West Orange, right around the corner from my house. The November 1st festivities included a bus tour of HANDS' projects, a walking tour of the Valley, an afternoon symposium, and an evening reception with a silent auction of art from local painters and sculptors. It was a bright, sunny day, and we had electricity. Luna Stage is currently showing "The Dangers of Electric Lighting" which is about Thomas Edison. We had a 24-hour power outage over the weekend, so we are closer to "The Dangers of NO Electric Lighting" but I'm excited to see the play. The HANDS symposium took place in the stage set of the Edison play, and it was very intimate and interesting. A highlight of the symposium, which had the theme "The Judo of Community Development," was a demonstration of judo and karate by Shihan Kenneth Lee and his students from Way of the Tiger Martial Arts, a little of Luna on Valley Road. Shihan Lee demonstrated fundamentals of martial arts, including its view of the creation of ethical character, one that is kind and humble, concerned for others. "That," said Patrick Morrissy to Shihan Lee after the demonstration, "is what community development is all about."

Halloween on Main Street

2011-10-31T19:25:00.000-07:00

Halloween filled the streets tonight, even though there was, according to my dry cleaner, an order for everyone to stay inside: too many live wires and downed tree branches from Saturday's freak snowstorm. Whoever made that ultimatum -- it might have been Gov Christie -- didn't deter the crowds. The balmy evening was irresistible after the awful weekend. The Valley -- which was featured in Sunday's NY Times -- is clearly viewed as a "safe zone" for families whose neighborhoods are not so sanguine. I gave out a lot of candy really quickly. But the blue ribbon for "All Around Halloween" goes to Vinnie Mazzarisi, owner of Mazzi Dogz, the hotdog place around the corner. He was out in a Jason costume, waving to passersby. His fabulous decorations, beautiful lights, lively interior and hospitality make him our Halloween winner. Happy Halloween!

Main Street, Daughters of Israel

2011-10-27T19:58:00.000-07:00

My mother, Maggie Thompson, now lives at the Daughters of Israel Nursing Home in West Orange. You might not think that a nursing home would have a Main Street. But Daughters of Israel does. It has a only one operating store, a coffee shop, which is perhaps the only store a Main Street really needs. The rest of the stores are paintings of store windows, filled with merchandise or offers of service and including portraits of the store owners. It makes for a cheery walk from the entry to mom's room, and I always pause to study one or another of the windows. I am ambivalent about the painting as art, but the pet store has very cute kittens in the window and there is one very convincing portrait of a cigar-chomping salesman offering to make a deal. Main Street layers on Main Street. My mother noted on her blog, Maggie:INK, that she is occupying Wall Street from her bed there. As Zuccotti Park is on Broadway, one of the world's greatest Main Streets, and mom is "DoI Way," we have a resonance. But imagine my surprise when I find "Main Street," the book, on a table of freebies in the lobby. I figure it's a sign and I took it.

When do you need really good coffee?

2011-10-24T18:00:00.000-07:00

Day 4, Mt Morris Consultation

Today was the fourth and last day of the consultation in Mt. Morris, NY. The morning started with a really good cappuccino at the Rainy Day Bakery and Cafe, at the intersection of State and Main. Fired with caffeine, Ron and Yvette Shiffman and I drove around, connecting the dots. We went up to Murray Hill where the Art Center is located, to Letchworth State Park, and back to Main Street over a bridge that is temporarily reduced to one lane from two. With all that good caffeine humming around in my head, I saw the duck, if I may make allusion to that game in which you connect the dots to see the outline of an animal.

One member of our group had noted that almost all the stores on Mt. Morris' Main Street were closed on Sunday afternoon. The Rainy Day Bakery and Cafe closes at 3, but opened up in response to her plea for an afternoon cup of coffee. "What if I were leaving Letchworth State Park and getting ready to drive 5 hours back to New York? I'd need a cup of coffee," she pointed out. And with a great cappuccino from Rainy Day, you wouldn't even need gas!

Which easily leads to the idea that the shopkeepers on Main Street should stay open longer hours to give coffee to the tourists and make the whole restoration a success. But I was reminded of a classic drawing by James Marston Fitch, in his book "American Building." It shows a man in a house, and indicates how the weight of the environment is lifted off his shoulders by the building. This is the promise of urbanism: that we can organize the space to carry the load, while we run around in the state park, oohing and ahhing at the beautiful gorge.

But what, we think next, is the environmental intervention that would make Mt. Morris zing? I was really impressed with Ron Shiffman's idea about a fountain topped by an eagle which used to be in the middle of the road. There is a similar one in the middle of Main Street in Geneseo and it works beautifully to tame and shape the space of Main Street. Such a move, I thought, would slow traffic enough that passersby would slow, be captivated, stop, enjoy, and this increase in local traffic would tip the scales in favor of the village's future.

In leaving today, I cast my vote: Put the Eagle Back on Main!

The End of the Mt. Morris Consultation

After visting 50 Main Streets, I'm ready to commit

2011-10-23T15:02:00.000-07:00

Day 3, Mt. Morris Consultation

I spent the day working on the Main Street consultation with Mt. Morris, Livingston County, NY. Professor Shiffman led a productive brainstorming session that led to the formation of 3 committees and the assignment of tasks. The 9 Pratt students on the trip settled down to work. The 3 professors, Ron and Yvette Shiffman and I, set off to see more Main Streets. Livingston County has a Main Street program, with 5 villages in it, including two we hadn't seen yet: Nunda, to the south of Mt. Morris and Lima, to the north. We went to Nunda first. It is very small, but the three generations of Kathy's Florist had led a wonderful effort to decorate for Halloween. The various poles around Main Street were surrounded by cornstalks and corn people were settled in benches all over town. It gave the place a charming and festive air. It reminded me of the "Villages Fleuris" in France -- the Flowered Cities -- which have flowers everywhere, in hanging pots, planters and beds, giving the place a festive, joyous look.

After Nunda we headed north to Lima, but decided to see Avon first (Lima is pronounced like the bean and Avon with the hard Rochester o). Avon has a large central circle, and in the center is a monument to the sons of the town who lost their lives in the Civil War. The names are listed for us to remember. I have recently been communicating with Veterans Affairs about my mother's "death benefit," a pension she receives because her first husband, Clifford J. Hunter, was lost in World War II. He died heroically, but I don't know if his name and deeds are carved anywhere for future generations to ponder and admire. The circle also had a water fountain installed in 1904 by the Women's Christian Temperance Union. Ron, who has been watching the documentary on Prohibition, commented that there were more bars in New York AFTER the law was passed.

From Avon we went to Lima, whose sign says, "A village at the crossroads of Western New York," the crossroads in question being two paths used by Iroquois Nation. We went to the American Hotel, which has a roster of 300 soups, from which co-owner Rose A. Reynolds chooses 6-7 to make every day. She and her brother/co-owner Patrick regaled us with stories about the hotel, the village, soup, etc. I had the awesome Aruba pea soup, and I bought Rose's cookbook, "Never Enough Thyme."

These visits bring my total to 50 cities. I am now ready to make a commitment to a deeper analysis. I am going to study all the cities of Essex County, NJ, looking at how they are interconnected, what each offers to its local community and the surrounding area, and the ways in which improvements in any of them might help the whole county to prosper. That will take care of 43 of the remaining 50. The other seven cities will continue to be those cities that cross my path as I travel around the US and other countries.

...to be continued

Two more Main Streets

2011-10-22T15:31:00.000-07:00

Day 2, Mt. Morris Consultation

Today our group took a bus tour of Geneseo, Mount Morris and Dansville, NY, adding two new main streets to my list. This was a fascinating day. We got to see the bear fountain on Main Street in Geneseo, a WPA Art Show at the Livingston County Art Center, the Mt. Morris Dam, and the Star Theater in Dansville. The charm of the places and the complexity of the issues made it a very stimulating day. Tonight we're off to "Poe by Flashlight" at Theater 101 (which could be quite scary), followed by dinner at Questa Lasagna, both on Main Street in Mount Morris.

To be continued...

Main Street, Mount Morris, NY

2011-10-21T18:44:00.000-07:00

Day 1, Mt. Morris Consultation

Mount Morris, NY, hit the news when Greg O'Connell began to invest there. O'Connell was a major developer of Red Hook, and had learned that it was a good idea to assemble as large a piece of land as possible, he told a group of planners from Pratt today. So he quietly worked to buy as many buildings on Main Street as he could. He hoped that he could help rejuvenate the area the way he helped in Red Hook: doing things that benefited everybody in the community. He showed pictures of the before and after which demonstrated the thorough and thoughtful work of bringing historic buildings back to life and the even more complex work of finding the entrepreneurs whose ideas and savvy could fill the buildings with useful restaurants, stores and services.

O'Connell has worked with Professor Ron Shiffman of Pratt Institute over the years. Shiffman put together a planning studio that will offer advice for the future of Main Street. Knowing my interest in Main Streets, Shiffman invited me along.

As if to prove the point that O'Connell really wanted to listen -- and wanted us to listen as well -- he invited local leaders to meet with us in Theater 101 on Main Street. More than 40 local leaders showed up for an afternoon of conversation about the future of Main Street. I was touched by the number of people who said, "I'd written Mount Morris off. I didn't believe it could come back." They sounded like they were still surprised that it had. As the afternoon conversation went on, I began to glimpse how each of those people had contributed to the revitalization of the area. O'Connell broke a logjam, and allowed good ideas to flow.

The area seems to be a site of good ideas: the local paper noted that the Rochester area was leading upstate New York in economic recovery, having added more than 10,000 jobs to the economy across all sectors, including manufacturing. Creative ideas, willingness to innovate, a tradition of solidarity, and openness of government all seem to be part of the mix, from what I heard today.

"They're willing to do little things, to recognize that 50 businesses each employing 2 people is the same as one business that employs 100," Shiffman commented.

What more is needed? One complaint that came up in the afternoon's conversation was about traffic. I tried to cross Main Street myself and was terrified. "But the traffic is an asset," one participant said. French unbanist Michel Cantal-Dupart has commented that towns that live by the highway have to play a careful balancing game: they want to slow traffic so people will get interested in their town and stop, but they can't slow it too much or drivers will get mad at them.

To be continued...

Main Street, Wall Street: Occupy for Root Shock

2011-10-05T05:16:00.000-07:00

In the years that I've been strolling Main Streets, I've watched the recession hit and it's been a hard hit. In the common parlance, Main Street is the antonym of Wall Street, both as places and as sets of people. With the recession and the concentration of wealth, Main Street has gotten poorer and Wall Street has gotten obscenely richer. This has shaken Main Street's way of life. Foreclosures have taken people's homes, unemployment has left them with no money to spend for food, shelter or clothes, and the hostility of the right has left them -- us -- with no hope of a safety net in times of troubles. Eric Fullilove, an economist and planner, described this as "root shock," using the term I coined to describe the painful disorientation and confusion people experience after the destruction of their neighborhoods. I studied root shock in cities that had undertaken urban renewal in the 1950s and 1960s. People whose neighborhoods had been bulldozed still suffered from the pain of that loss. They told me about losing not only their homes, but also their social networks, political organizations, friendships, even close ties to family were disrupted. As I describe in my book, Root Shock, the costs of root shock were astronomical, and they had not been remediated. Eric's assertion that the current economic dislocations are causing root shock offered me a new way to look at the impromptu demonstrations going on now and spreading all over the world. In New York they have the title "Occupy Wall Street." Demonstrators in other cities have attached their city name to "Occupy." While it might seem that the "occupy" is simply indicating that the demonstrators plan to go and stay for a while, I think that the "occupy" can be interpreted as a definitive cure for the root shock we are all suffering. The cause of root shock is the loss of all or part of one's emotional ecosystem. The cure: to get settled in a new place. What better place for uprooted Main Street to seek new roots than Wall Street?

Main Street, the movie

2011-08-21T06:26:00.001-07:00

Last night I watched Horton Foote's Main Street. The movie has a strong cast, headed by Colin Firth and Orlando Bloom. It examines a moment in the life of Durham, North Carolina, hanging on by a thread and offered the lifeline of toxic waste storage. Mr. Foote, who wrote the screenplay for Trip to Bountiful and adapted To Kill a Mockingbird, was noted for his explorations of the lives of ordinary people facing ordinary life events. In the case of Main Street, people are facing the collapse of the city, after the decline of the tobacco industry. In this case he takes us into the confusion of the old, the grief of the middle-aged as their children move away, the frustration of young people who have to leave for a future. He also examines the ever hopeful search for a future for the city, so desperate that its leaders are even willing to consider bringing toxic waste to town. Main Street is a tidy a summary of what I've seen in my trips.

Rutland's "Art in the Park"

2011-08-14T19:06:00.000-07:00

Today I went to see the 50th annual "Art in the Park" in Rutland, Vermont. The Chaffee Art Center is the organizer of the event which takes place in Main Street Park in August and October. It is a juried event, with over 100 exhibitors of arts and crafts, as well as local foods. The park is a block-square grassy space, just big enough to house the exhibits, but not so big that the visitors got lost in the space. We had a good time browsing and chatting with artists, then went to see Merchats' Row, the old Main Street of Rutland. One side of Main Street was tranformed into a mall, the other side looks like 19th century Vermont. Neither is holding its own against the movement of traffic and commerce to the wide and busy Routes 7 and 4, which dominate the flow in the area. They are classically ugly American shopping highways, no charm, no distinction. Driving around the Rutland area, including Killington and Okemo ski areas, gave me the distinct impression that tourism in Vermont has taken a hit from the long recession. As we were driving back from the movies in Rutland, my granddaughter pointed out Evenint Song, a farm where she and other campers had helped with weeding and making a swimming hole. These are young farmers, getting started, with signs in front of their farm saying "Join our CSA." I'd bought from them at the Ludlow Farmer's Market two days before. Good stuff, beautiful varieties and great taste. If necessity is the mother of invention, we may be for many new approaches in years to come.

Busman's holiday

2011-08-12T19:16:00.000-07:00

I'm on my "busman's holiday," actually spending a week staying on Main Street in Ludlow VT and getting around to visit new Main Streets in the area. So far, I've been to visit North Bennington, South Londonderry and Woodstock. Vermont, though known as a rural and agriculture state, has a strong networks of cities, towns and villages. As far as I can tell, these places all have an old mill by a fast-running stream or river. Milling for lumber, paper and cloth were found throughout the state. The state deindustrialized early and only a few mills are still in existence. North Bennington is exemplary in still having a variety of industries that employ local people: much needed throughout the nation. In this state, the loss of industry is a stark fact, present in every Vermont urban center. Not that it's all work: Vermont has neatly placed state parks within minutes of the city centers. Today we went hiking in Okemo State Park to see Buttermilk Falls. My grandson Javi, 7, was pretty sure that Big Foot was lurking behind the trees, but we didn't see him.

Summer ramblin'

2011-08-08T13:48:00.000-07:00

This summer has been a time to stroll on my local Main Streets, Main Street in Orange, Valley Road in the Valley, and South Orange Avenue, in South Orange. Mazzi Dogz has the best ice coffee, Main Street Orange the richest, most diverse collection of things and people, and SOAve the nicest plaza. I had a delightful time one morning eating a bran muffin from Cait and Abby Bakery and watching a pigeon position himself so as not to be bothered by the anti-pigeon wires on the plaza's gazebo.

It's also been a great time to make trips and see new Main Streets. I've been to Hudson, NY, which just got mentioned in the NY Times as Williamsburg in the Hudson Valley. I went to see David Dew Bruner, at David Dew Bruner Designs. David is a member of the faculty at the New York Botanical Gardens Landscape Design program, and I've taken several classes with him. He's a dazzling teacher, slowly unlocking the mystery of design from the blank page to the buildable garden. His store is filled with treasures. I found a big pile to tools that looked like old compasses to me. "Do you know what that is?" he asked. "A compass?" I responded. "No, it's a caliper, for measuring off equal distances." He showed me how it worked, and how it could be hung on the wall, and how it looked like a person. It was old and worn, felt good in my hand, and seemed like it would be at home on my desk, so it came with me. David had information about everything, and for everybody. It was a feast of possibility to be in his store. He told me about Hudson and its evolution from river port town, to industrial town, to disinvested town, to gentrified town. It's hovering now, looking for direction. David posed for a photo in front of his window, which was featuring sculptor Lee Musselman's piece, "Playing in a Rose Garden."

I also went to Saratoga Springs, which I've visited before. Main Street has been swallowed by the mall, which makes it a peculiar hybrid. It's one of those Main Streets that has nearly severed its physical connection to the surrounding city. But the Saratoga Spa State Park is extraordinary and very true to its origins, as the public's spa. I had a 40-minute mineral bath that was Nirvana, and a massage that made everything better. The best thing about it was the reasonable rates. Irresistible: thank you, New York.

I returned to Johnstown, New York, an Adirondack city famous as the home of Elizabeth Cady Stanton, one of the leaders of the movement for women's emancipation. It is an historic old city, a former home to Knox Gelatin, but now severed from its industrial past. It's not had much gentrifiction and is looking for an honest future. I was sad that a nice bookstore I'd seen opening its doors last summer was closing them on this visit.

Along with a group of urbanists, I went to Brownsville, in New York City, to visit the Brownsville Partnership, a program promoting health through exercise and better nutrition. We learned about their programs and toured the neighborhood. it is an exciting and walkable place. We also got to see the famous Pitkin Avenue, which is one of the great streets of New York. Almost as much fun as Main Street in Orange: I felt right at home. We were thrilled by a stunning fountain, in beautiful perspective, in the middle of the housing projects, for which the neighborhood is famous. Our group was unable to resist the chance to catch a bit of cool on a very hot day. Rarely have I seen a more perfectly placed fountain in the US.

Then, yesterday, I went to Asbury Park as part of the University of Orange Summer Session on the Elements of Urban Restoration. We had a tour organized by Interfaith Neighbors. I got to appreciate how Asbury Park is permeated with music. The scene from which Bruce Springstein emerged is alive and well and making it happen in Asbury! Their boardwalk is the most open, most diverse there is. The Jersey Shore is horribly segregated by Asbury is for everybody. Somehow the city is managing to find new life, despite having been mauled and kidnapped by 1960s urban renewal.

Asbury's slow revival points to the future for all the places I've been. It's hard but it's possible. These might be the terms of success: 1) Yankee ingenuity (this is generic, the ingenious person doesn't have to be a Yankee), 2) cooperation, 3) interconnection, and 4) tapping the wellstone of local history and culture.

Reshaping housing policy

2011-07-29T07:54:00.000-07:00

Shelterforce, in celebration of its 36th anniversary, published a set of essays called "6 Ideas to Reshape Housing Policy." In my essay, I proposed that the problem of housing lies not in the individual units, but in their assembly into larger wholes. One of the key issues we face is making those wholes dynamic, diverse, and integral. In proposing this thought, I echo Jane Jacobs, whose book, Death and Life of Great American Cities, is celebrating its 50th anniversary. She wrote, "In our American cities, we need all kinds of diversity, intricately mingled in mutual support. We need this so city life can work decently and constructively, and sot he people of cities can sustain (and further develop) their society and civilization." The great enemy of diversity in the American city is Jim Crow. The great hope for our future lies in reknitting the fragments back into an integral and functional whole. I'll be addressing this process of urban restoration in my new book, Elements of Urban Restoration.

Main Street Ribbon Walk

2011-06-26T18:10:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday, June 23rd, West Orange notables, and ordinary citizens like me, walked around Valley Road for three ribbon cuttings! The first was at Mazzi Dogz, the hot dog place around the corner from my house. The second was at Planet Wings, up at shopping plaza on South Valley Road. They had a person dressed as a chicken and truly outstanding face painting. The third was Suzy BBQ, just south of the plaza on Valley Road. The Mayor's Office has brought a pair of giant scissors for the ceremonies--I mean giant! It was a lot of fun. I look forward to many more.

Atlantic Avenue, Brooklyn

2011-06-17T15:15:00.001-07:00

Councilmember Leticia James, Develop Don't Destroy Brooklyn and others convened a meeting on Wednesday to discuss the creation of new unity plan for the Atlantic Yards site. I got to Brooklyn Commons, at 388 Atlantic Avenue, early and got a seat up front, which turned out to be a good idea as the place was overflowing with people. As one audience member put it, "We have been kicked to the curb on two issues -- stopping the abuse of eminent domain and putting an arena at Atlantic and Flatbush -- but we can still win on the issues that are in front of us." Those issues have to do with the site that adjoins the Barclays Arena, much of which has been cleared of homes and historic buildings and awaits the next thing. Ratner's original plans have been shelved, which opens up room for the community to propose something better. This is vitally important to future of Brooklyn, and even the future of the Greater New York region. One of the principles of urban restoration that I've identified in my Main Street travels is the open creation of a vision that represents the aspirations of the people. This is a great moment to go all over Brooklyn -- indeed, I'd say go all over New York City -- and find out what people need and want. Then let's consider how those needs and wants relate to the massive Atlantic Yards site. This critically important process will help us build the kind of consensus that can win the next round of the fight.

Main Street Fete

2011-06-05T10:25:00.000-07:00

Friday night. Main Street, Brooklyn. DUMBO seems too cool to have a Main Street, but there it is. I'm going to 37, Powerhouse Arena, a bookstore/event space, for a party celebrating the New York premier of "Battle for Brooklyn," at the Brooklyn Film Festival. I had seen cuts of the film, but the final version, with diagrams and music and storyline, starts off very hard and never lets up. It tells the story of Develop Don't Destroy Brooklyn and its 7 year fight to stop Bruce Ratner's ill-conceived Atlantic yards project. "It's like David and Goliath," says attorney Norman Siegel, "but you know, sometimes David wins." At the end of the film, Mayor Michael Bloomberg is chortling, "No one will remember how long it took." But we are watching the film, and we remember. I finger the leaflet in my pocket inviting me to a meeting June 15th to see the Unity Plan for the area. I plan to go. I want to see what Marshall Brown, Ron Shiffman and the other collaborating urban planners are proposing. The film's wonderful hero, Dan Goldstein, and brilliant heroine, Shabnam Merchant, are tenacious, ethical and beautiful. I learned a lot and look forward to seeing it over and over. In the meantime, at 37 Main Street, the activists and the film crowd rub shoulders in one of the moments of festivity in which we catch our breath and refuel for the next round in the fight.

Hot diggity dog!

2011-04-28T15:41:00.000-07:00

Mazzi Dogz, which used to be on Main Street in Orange, NJ, has moved to Valley Road, right around the corner from my house. The new spot opened on Monday and we were there at 7 AM for donuts. Tuesday I went back for lunch with Pat Morrissy. We debated this and that while eating great hot dogs. Pat had espresso from the fabulous oldtime machine, recently refurbished, while I stuck with Diet Coke which seemed better suited to hot spring day. Suddenly Valley Road is hot bed of good eats. Think about it: Rock It Pizza, Miriam's, Gamburgers, Hat City Kitchen, and now Mazzi Dogs. And just around the corner on Central Avenue we have Bella Italia, Uncle Philly's Cheesteaks, Rita's Deli and White Castle. Hot diggity!

Battle of the Benches

2011-04-13T05:37:00.001-07:00

On April 9, 2011, a major battle was fought in Orange, NJ: the Battle of the Benches. The lawn of the historic Orange Public Library was the site of the action. Eleven competitors arrived with benches they'd made, designed to compete in a list of categories. Invention was the order of the day. The contest was tough.
I got my bench ready by going to the benchmaking workshops led by University of Orange carpentry professor, Frank Racioppi. He helped me make my simple bench. "Helped" is being generous about my part. I sanded and painted, he did the rest. Then I recruited a star teammate: Vlad Jean, master artist. When the competition heard about my successful recruitment, they knew. And they were right! We took first place in the "Orange Pride" category. Vlad brought to life the energy and hope of an historic train that put Orange on the map as early as 1832. We won lunch for four at John's Market, best Italian lunch in town. Join us!

Music on Main

2010-12-13T17:45:00.000-08:00

On the midst of the stretch of Main Street that runs from the border of Orange to the stately East Orange City Hall sits Christ Episcopal Church. Yesterday I had the chance to hear the Essex Chorale perform the first part of their annual Messiah. Main Street collapsed some years ago, a victim of the confluence of Route 280 and the Garden State Parkway. It has been slowly rebuilt, but little resistance to the automobile which has pushed the stores back to make for drive in/drive out parking, one of the great enemies of the pedestrian. Christ Episcopal Church, by its grand size and beautiful appointments, a church for well-heeled, still manages to glow, its bright white and gold altar a joyous sight. I love to watch the Chorale enter, the women in long black dresses and pearls, the men in their tuxedos, the soloists in a touch of color. I love to listen the orchestra tuning, searching for that perfection of sound. I love to watch Chorale Director Dr. DeCosta Dawson lift his baton and draw the performers to attention. I love to see friends and family who gather for the annual ritual. I love that I've gone to East Orange to see the Messiah for many years.

I had to leave early to speak on a panel being held in a building on Central Avenue in Newark. I was glad that the program organizer had waited outside for me: the area was empty and it seemed unlikely that something was happening there. I used to wait for the bus one block over. My mother would pick me up at the Newark Museum--always with a wholesome peanut bar to stave off hunger--and we'd take the bus home when her work and my afterschool program were finished. Central Avenue, too, has collapsed, yet once inside people's good cheer created good spirits as we considered issues of import.

When it came my turn to speak about women's health, I spoke about a study by Dr. Eva-Maria Simms who interviewed women in Pittsburgh's Hill District about what it was like to grow up there. She had a striking finding: in that context of the collapse of the Hill District, growing up had altered dramatically. In the 50s, before urban renewal, people lived in a dense community and neighbors and friends helped to raise the children. Children were never alone, always surrounded by others with whom they played and worked. In the 70s, after urban renewal, people grew up in much smaller social networks but had a sense of community with trusted neighbors. By the 1990s, people were retreating to their apartments, depending on friends and family, but no longer part of a functioning neighborhood that was looking out for their needs.

It is both a terrible diagnosis and a great treatment plan: starting with the wonderful rituals that have been preserved, we can rebuild the kind of dense and exciting places that will nurture us.

"...And then I wrote a song about it"

2010-12-08T18:19:00.000-08:00

I recently moved to West Orange, NJ, and live just off Valley Road where a new theater has opened for Luna Stage, a highly respected theater group that moved to West Orange from Montclair. This means that I can stroll over the theater, an experience that I love. Last Friday night I saw a one-man musical, "...And then I wrote a song about it." The play opens on New Year's Eve, 1979, with the story of Randall, a man who is turning 30. Talk about had me at hello! I was 29 then, and, like Randall, longing to be recognized for my talent. Randall is studying singing, dancing and theater but he's a quadruple threat because he also writes songs. What got me in every line of the show was its honesty which was so evocative and touching and funny funny funny. I so identify with people looking for love while disco dancing and had never ever seen such a funny rendition of this delightful theme. At the same time, hanging over us and about to explode, was the AIDS epidemic. From nearly the first moment, recognizing that this is a gay man's story, I was waiting for the appearance of Death, and thinking about the many women and men I've lost since then. It set off quite an ache to watch someone breezing through life, not knowing what was around the corner. Watching Randall, I laughed, I cried, I remembered when. I was so grateful to singer/dancer/actor Nick Cearley whose fierce and delicious energy brought the story to life. This wonderful show is at Luna Stage through December 19th. If you ever discoed, thought about AIDS or fought with your father, you'll love this show.

Thomas Alva Edison

2010-09-29T15:39:00.001-07:00

Thomas Alva Edison, holder of almost 2,000 patents, lived on Park Avenue and worked on Main Street. I have always admired him, since as a child, I saw a biopic. He saved his mother's life by figuring how to light the surgical field so she could get the operation she needed. And he almost blew up a train with nitroglycerin he had made, unaware of its explosive potential.

Edison's workplace, the remarkable site of "industrial invention" located on Main Street in West Orange, NJ, is operated by the National Park Service and they have recently reopened the site for visitors. I visited two buildings, #5 and the Chemistry Laboratory. Building #5 held his library of 10,000 volumes and shops for making machines, taking photographs and recording music. The chemistry building was set up much like a high school or college chem lab would be, with two aisles of work tables surrounded by shelves of ingredients. We stopped by the table used by Edison himself and the Park Ranger explained that most of Edison's patents were related to chemistry. A slight whiff of chemicals hung in the air, all these years after Edison left the building for the last time. They advised not to touch the tables: "We don't know what's been on them!"

After leaving the chemistry building, I strolled over to see the Black Maria, the building he created for making movies. The whole building turns and the roof opens so that sunlight could shine in for the filmmaking.

Hearts for Haiti

2010-08-02T13:47:00.000-07:00

Last Friday evening I attended a performance of "Hearts for Haiti" at Luna Stage on Valley Road in West Orange. This theater project involved a cast of young people from the area, many of them from Haiti or of Haitian descent. They had worked with theater professionals over the past month, exploring in journals, drawings, and sculptures the story of what had happened in Haiti. From this work, they had created a play to share with their families, friends and neighborhs. The play opened by showing us scenes of everyday life in Haiti: a man buying a necklace at a jeweler's, two girls going to the beach, two men fishing. Their staggering bodies and sharp thwacks on a plastic bucket took us precipitously into the earthquake and all fell down. As those who still lived stood, they mourned their companion who did not. I started to cry at that point. The young people moved directly and quickly to an affirmation of talents, sharing with us their skills at singing, dancing and reciting poetry. This grew in joy and hope to a powerful conclusion in a song the youth had written themselves, "We rise." I found that I was still crying, but happy tears. I hope many people get to see this wonderful show.

Two Ton Tony Galento and the Parking Lot

2010-07-26T18:28:00.000-07:00

Tony Galento, the heavyweight boxer, was a son of Orange. He once knocked Joe Louis to the mat, a moment that was cheered in some parts of town, while Louis' eventual victory was celebrated in another. That's how American cities work. Galento was honored by having a plaza named after him. This plaza is largely a parking lot. In his honor, an "Envision Tony Galento Plaza" Day was held last week. Artists made drawings of Tony and a bear that he once took on. Everyone came by and boxed with Tony or the bear, or Tony and the bear. People told stories of the kind of guy he was. He once ate 50 hot dogs before a boxing match, someone said. Another told me about the bar he had in town, with a boxing club next door. The more stories I heard, I more I looked around at the expanse of parking lot, with its broken asphalt and forlorn shrubs: no people, no action, nothing happening. Then I looked at the all the people clowning around with the drawings of Tony and the bear (in the photo, Gabe is moving Tony's arm to knock out that bear!). Yesterday I was reading an article about a neighborhood in Portland, Oregon, that painted a sunflower in an intersection to create a piazza. Then I had a vision: we could paint a boxing ring in Tony Galento Plaza and make ourselves a piazza.

Can you see it?

Rock, Paper, Scissors

2010-07-24T19:47:00.000-07:00

Rock, Paper, Scissors is not a sport I ever imagined myself playing, so imagine my surprise when I found I was in the third round of play for the New Jersey championship and a chance to represent my state at the World RPS Championship in Toronto! No. 10, an intense young woman with a faraway gaze, defeated me, but many people at Hat City Kitchen came up to complement me on my play. It was a heady feeling. What if I had gone all the way? Imagine the new respect I would have earned in my home town.

Next year, No. 10, I'll be back!

291 Years of Ministry Come to an End

2010-07-19T04:30:00.000-07:00

The First Presbyterian Church of Orange, a congregation that was organized in 1719, held its final service yesterday. The congregation has been a force in Orange for 250 years. The names on the walls of the church are the same as those on the streets of the city. The tombstones dating back to the colonial era remind us the settlement of the area by Europeans who first arrived in the 1600's. The Presbytery of Newark has put the building on the market. Yesterday's ceremonies closed with an organ concert performed by Anthony Mark Lamort on the church's magnificent organ, with its hundreds of pipes. He closed with an improvisation on the song "Jerusalem." William Blake's plaintive question, "Was Jerusalem builded here, among these dark satantic mills?" might will have been about the church, a glowing sanctuary a edge of an industrial district that produced 4.2 million hats in its heyday.

The Church is an anchor of Orange's Main Street, and keeping the building a strong site is a now a key goal for city leaders.

Brunch on a rooftop

2010-07-03T11:10:00.000-07:00

This is a sleepy Saturday in Jersey City. My daughter Molly and I met up for brunch on Grove Street, but a fixture on an electric pole exploded. It seemed a good idea to mosey over to another place. A rooftop garden beckoned, so we headed to Skinner's Loft. Their rooftop was beautiful and practical -- their basil was gorgeous. We relaxed in the sun, looking out over Newark Avenue, the closest Main Street to Ellis Island. Jersey City has always been a city of migrants and immigrants. Today, the migrants are people from the suburbs of the state as well as from Puerto Rico, and immigrants have arrived from the four corners of the globe. The long and fascinating avenue pulses with change and evolution. Brunch on Newark Avenue gave the sleepy Saturday a connection to the melting pot of America.

The foundation for recovery

2010-07-02T15:55:00.000-07:00

On the Main Streets I visit, a growing number of "for rent" signs signal the difficulties faced by enterprises of all kinds. A growing, and perhaps ill-informed, consensus that this is time for fiscal austerity means that even harder times are coming. The government jobs that the bedrock of our cities will be cut to the bone in months to come. Both federal and state governments are pulling the resources out. The cities are left with little choice but to retrench. The hesitant and partial recovery of recent years will be threatened.

This creates difficulties for the present, but also for the future. The creative ideas of local entrepreneurs are an important engine of growth. And cities have an important role to play in this process by creating the connections that foster new thinking. Thus, undermining the cities of today undermines the foundation of the future. This can be discouraging, and people can turn against one another, fomenting violence and dissent. In Orange, citizens are making an active effort to connect through two upcoming events. The first is a festival at the train station, known as Tony Galento Plaza after Orange's favorite son, and the second is a rock, paper, scissors tournament at Hat City Kitchen, a new restaurant in the Valley.

Michel Cantal-Dupart, in his book, Merci La Ville, observed that the people who want to make strong cities would do well to be attention to the festival. In that regard, let us hope that the developers, politicians, entrepreneurs and others interested in the future of Orange pay a lot of attention to these two delightful occasions.

Graduating on Main Street

2010-07-02T08:01:00.000-07:00

On June 19th, the University of Orange celebrated in its second annual graduation. Requirements for graduation are: voting, having fun with neighbors, going to a city meeting, taking two uofo courses, and volunteering. I was proud to have completed this list of tasks of good citizenship. We held the graduation at the First Presbyterian Church of Orange. It was a bittersweet moment, as the congregation, established in 1711, has recently dissolved, leaving the fate of its beautiful home up in the air. We all thrilled to the bells playing the recessional as we stood for this picture. Our hopes are for a future for this lovely place that befits the dreams of its colonial-era founders.

Getting change

2010-07-02T07:55:00.001-07:00

I got through the heat wave that wilted NJ the past few weeks by drinking iced coffee. One day I went to the Dunkin' Donuts on Main Street in Orange and I saw a sign that said no $50s, no $100s. A few days later I was on the main drag in Upper Montclair, which by contrast to Orange is dripping with wealth. I went into Dunkin' Donuts to get some iced coffee. The lady after me was digging in her change purse. "I have to give you change," she said to the young clerk who stood waiting patiently. "All I have is a $100."

"We can change $100," the clerk said.

I asked my daughter, Molly Rose Kaufman, a take a picture of the sign in Orange, as a memento of difference. The clerk there said, "Why are you taking my picture?" Molly said, "I'm taking a picture of the sign." She explained my experience in Upper Montclair.

The young girl shrugged, "Of course they can change $100 in Upper Montclair!"

The Pittsburgh Marathon on Walnut Street

2010-05-05T13:12:00.000-07:00

The Pittsburgh Marathon makes a circle of the city, visiting many of its sections. I got to watch it pass Walnut Street, which is at mile 15. A celebration had been organized for that site, with a band, and a race organizer distributing bells to help cheer the runners on. When I got there, it was about 2-1/2 hours into the marathon; the peole passing were on pace to finish in 5 hours or so. Many were tired, and one obviously injured but refusing to stop. Still there were lots of scenes of jubilation: a mother ecstatic to watch her daughter run, kids thrilled to see mom pass. My friend Phil Hallen and I rang bells and cheered and enjoyed the scene. He has lived in the area for a long time. Walnut Street is now a very upscale shopping destination, with William Sonoma and Ann Taylor. There are a few small stores left, including one of the best toy stores in the world. The stores were closed for race day, but I did learn that they will be staying open late for a Spring Shopping Day. On the other hand, with the chain stores closed and the street given over to runners, we were able to see Main Street in its other role: a center of community life and fun.

Why does redlining endure?

2010-04-30T12:18:00.000-07:00

This morning I went with Molly Kaufman and Sarah Kirshen to a very interesting panel discussion on the legacy of redlining. Held at Columbia University's School of Journalism, the panel featured a diverse group of experts from history, journalism, research and community advocacy. Redlining, started in the 1930s during a major banking crisis, was supposed to protect investment by improving the assessment of risk. Instead of strengthening the whole city, redlining created new layers of division with cities. It did this by endorsing a preferential system that gave neighborhoods with new buildings and white people the best ratings and those with black people and old buildings the worst ratings. It provided real fuel for the fire of fear that black people would ruin the neighborhood. As the presence of one black person did affect the rating, the fear of losing one's assets had some basis in reality. Though there have been efforts to get rid of redlining, it was clear from this morning's presentations that it is alive and well and continuing to ruin our economy. Its imprint defines the subprime lending crisis, as well as all the mainstream lending taking place in this period of recovery. While this morning's talks were informative, I was left wondering what we do about a practice that was wrong-headed in 1937 yet continues to drive the American economy in 2010.

In the evening I went to Pratt Institute for a book signing by Ned Kaufman for his book about historic preservation, Race, Place and Story. In his remarks, he said that about 90% of what should be preserved gets lost, and about 10% gets saved. It struck me as really ironic that the one thing we should get rid of -- redlining -- is very much with us, while what we should be saving -- our historic buildings and built environment -- is rapidly being lost. If we could just reverse those two, we'd be in great shape. Perhaps the way to begin is to consider that there is a relationship between the two, as indeed from the spatial perspective, there is.

Jane's Roll in Orange Saturday, May 1

2010-04-28T18:07:00.000-07:00

Saturday, May 1, Patrick Morrissy will lead a Jane's Roll through Orange, NJ. This event is held in honor of Jane Jacobs, who loved cities. Here's the description of the event:

Jane's Orange Roll
We’re rolling to historic buildings, new murals, eateries, a greenhouse construction site, lunch at two-ton tony’s plaza and then the May Day fest. We are also celebrating the release of the new essay collection “What We See” featuring a piece by Orange’s own Mindy Fullilove.

Time: 10:00 am – 2:00 pm

Date: Saturday, May 1, 2010

Start: Rita’s Deli, 502 Central Ave., Orange, NJ
End: May Day Festival, Central Playground

Host: Patrick Morrisy

Host Organization: University of Orange

No Need to Sign Up . . . Just Show Up At Posted Meeting Location

Modality Focus: bicycles

This event is welcoming and accessible to bicycles, seniors and children.

Yonah Shimmel and the Evolution of Main Street

2010-04-28T17:46:00.000-07:00

On today's Main Street tour I had the pleasure of the company of Molly Rose Kaufman and Rachel Bland, urbanists in Orange, NJ. We started on Valley Road which runs through The Valley, a former industrial area on the border of West Orange/Orange. The area is being infused with new life as an arts district, and Valley Road is reviving its part as the local Main Street. We admired a new mural, had wonderful pizza at Rock-It Pizza, and checked out several new eateries that are coming soon. The comeback of Valley Road is fun and impressive. From there, we went to a completely different stretch of Main Street, East Houston Street in New York, where we had a second course of our lunch, knishes at Yonah Shimmel's Knishery. I've been going to Yonah Shimmel's for decades. Absolutely the best knishes in the world. What could be a better food than something that combines mashed potatoes and a wafer thin dough? But the context of Yonah Shimmel's has changed dramatically. The Lower East Side is several decades further down the road of arts district evolution that Valley Road is on, and the change is bittersweet, I find. I really liked going to the movies at Sunshine Theater, and would have stopped at Whole Foods. But I missed the exceptional neighborhood it used to be, flooded with people inventing how to be American.

Daniel Goldstein, Shabnam Merchant and The Fight Against Corrupt Development

2010-04-22T07:59:00.000-07:00

Daniel Goldstein and Shabnam Merchant, leaders of the fight against the corrupt development proposed by Forest City Ratner at the Atlantic Yards, negotiated a settlement to leave their apartment quickly. This has been reported in the press as "selling their home." They did not sell their apartment: it was seized by eminent domain. They were able to negotiate the terms of their leaving. They have been leaders in an historic fight, which has helped many of us to understand how developers pull off these deals to steal people's homes and change our cities without our consent. The Development Don't Destroy Brooklyn website has helped to expose every detail of how the process unfolded. This is a great contribution to all of us. As a supporter of DDDB, I am copying Daniel's statement on the settlement. It's thoughtful and gives good direction. The most important thought: "See you at the next meeting."

Develop Don't Destroy Brooklyn
April 22, 2010
-------------------------------------------------------------------

From DDDB's co-founder, Daniel Goldstein:

As has been widely reported (see the invaluable NoLandGrab for full coverage), I reached a financial settlement with the Empire State Development Corporation (ESDC), tool of Atlantic Yards developer Forest City Ratner, to move out of my home—which the ESDC took ownership of on March 1st—by May 7th.

I did not know, when Wednesday started, that a settlement was in store. It was nothing that I expected to happen. I only knew that I had to defend myself against eviction by New York State.

My day started at 9:30 in State Supreme Court where my attorney (not DDDB's) argued against ESDC's effort to get Judge Abraham Gerges to evict my family from our home on May 17th. I did not expect that this argument would then lead to a settlement, so I did not have a press release prepared when an agreement was reached around 3pm. I did not even think of the press implications because I was thinking about my personal situation and my family, not the press. I should have known better because clearly Forest City Ratner saw it as a big press event and sent out a press release immediately. This has led to some misreporting. I send this statement to clarify what has actually occurred. There is a lot to say, so I hope you'll forgive the length, and my apologies for not getting this email out sooner.

Contrary to press reports I have not given up my First Amendment rights or my involvement with Develop Don't Destroy Brooklyn. (Ratner, though he tried to hide it, did require this of nearly all those who sold their homes to him years ago, and they agreed to it.) Ratner and ESDC tried very hard to force me to agree to give up those rights and the work I do with the organization I helped found. It wasn't enough, I guess, for Ratner to decimate my neighborhood, take my home, and kick me out, they also felt they had to cut out my tongue. For nearly 3 hours of talks mediated by Judge Gerges I refused to accept any kind of gag order. I would not have taken any amount of money to do that, and I did not.

I did agree to give up my title as "DDDB spokesman", but that's just a title. And I did agree to remove my name from one outstanding lawsuit which remains in court despite that. Otherwise I can do and say whatever else I want, and my agreement explicitly states that I have maintained my First Amendment rights. So they have not succeeded in silencing me and I am free to criticize and speak about the project, the developer and the ESDC as much as I want. I intend to do that whenever the need arises.

For seven years my wife Shabnam Merchant (who I met as a fellow activist against Atlantic Yards) and I have worked and fought day after day—giving up an income for many of those years—in an effort to help bring community-based, democratic development to Central Brooklyn. This meant, obviously, opposing Ratner's corrupt, developer-driven, undemocratic project.

As a co-founder of DDDB I will continue that work to the best of my ability and as time allows. I've not been silenced, and I am not leaving DDDB as it transitions into a new phase of fighting Atlantic Yards, exposing its corruption and false promises, and advocating for changing the State's abusive eminent domain laws and the way development is done in New York. And should Atlantic Yards falter, and the land return to its contested state, DDDB will be prepared to jump in.

Impact on the Fight Against Atlantic Yards

On March 1st, after years of litigation, ESDC took title ownership of my home. From that day on, I no longer owned my apartment but instead became a tenant of the State.

At that time, with that action on Ratner's behalf, there was nothing I could any longer personally do with my home that would stop or impact the project. Staying in my home until the sheriff came to evict my wife, child and I would have accomplished nothing at all for the fight but would have severely harmed us.

After March 1st, it was inevitable that we would be forced out; it was just a matter of when.

On April 9th ESDC filed papers requesting that the court evict me on May 17th. Wednesday morning my attorney argued that the court should not grant that eviction. After the argument, Judge Gerges made it crystal clear that he wanted resolution between me and ESDC/Ratner—that day—as to when I'd leave my home.

So instead of being evicted in about 27 days and then being forced to go to court to hope to get close to fair market value for my home (as opposed to the extremely lowball "just compensation" offered to me by New York State, which was nowhere near fair market value), I agreed to leave in about 17 days. That agreement to leave ten days sooner avoids further litigation over "just compensation," which would have cost me more time and money while accomplishing nothing for the fight against the project.

I did not sell my home today. I had no home to sell as the state took my home on March 1st. Contrary to what Ratner and ESDC might want people to believe, eminent domain was used on me and many others. My home was seized by the government to give to a private developer.

What I did do was agree to leave my home rather quickly in return for a payment. What I did do was what I needed to do as a responsible husband and father to make sure that my family could make an orderly transition to a new home in Brooklyn. I was left with no good choice by the ESDC or Judge Gerges.

I have always promised that once the legal options to save my home and the homes and businesses of my neighbors were extinguished, I would have to turn my attention to what was best for my family, after years of neglecting our interests. That is what I did on Wednesday.

DDDB

Speaking as the "former" spokesman of DDDB I have this to say.

The fight we have waged as a community has been heroic and crucially important to literally millions around the City and the country. We have all exposed the project and the process as fatally corrupt. We have convinced nearly all good people of good will that the project is a sham and a poster child for the wrong way to develop cities. We shined a bright light on the way eminent domain is abused in New York State to the point where there is now a legislative effort led by Senator Perkins to reform the state's laws.

We have fought every lie, exaggeration, fudge, false promise, abuse, and misinformation campaign tooth and nail. The project that Ratner wanted to build will never be built. And we know that his promises, many already broken, will continue to be broken—especially his promise to build 2,250 units of affordable housing in ten years. It is shameful, and it is shameful that so many politicians remained silent, and still do to this day.

And we, as a community, as DDDB and so many other community groups, will continue to expose the project's problems and abuses.

Through the relationships and alliances amongst community groups and individuals I am certain that it will be impossible for developers and their government cronies to ram this kind of project down another community's throat ever again in New York City.

They didn't ram it down ours.

While we didn't stop the groundbreaking, our voice of protest was heard loud and clear for years before that day, and on that day. On Ratner's day of celebration, the overwhelming media coverage (besides Beyonce and Jay-Z of course) was of the protest of that travesty.

A legacy of this fight will be that we have proven that all that we have found wrong with it has been shown to be legal in the view of the courts and most legislators. The abusive laws, which favor the most powerful and entrenched interests, must be changed.

Finally, please remember that DDDB, this community and the fight against Atlantic Yards was never about a single person or a single apartment—or even about a single borough. It has been, and still is, about one of the biggest failures of government and democracy in this City's history, and its impact on the lives of hundreds of thousands of people in the great borough of Brooklyn. Our fight has—and this is one of the victories—given hope, inspiration and encouragement to innumerable people that a community united can fight principled fights worth fighting, regardless of the outcome. These are fights that have to be fought if we are to find a way to become a working democracy, which treats individuals and communities fairly, rather than disenfranchising and disempowering them.

See you at the next meeting (once I find a new Brooklyn home). And please be in touch with DDDB.

With my great respect for all the civic minded people who have engaged in the resistance to Atlantic Yards, to any degree at all, throughout the years. You are heroes and YOU have the power.

Daniel Goldstein
Co-founder of Develop Don't Destroy Brooklyn

PS. It will be interesting to see what Congressman Pascrell accomplishes with his effort to get a Treasury Department investigation into Mikhail Prokorov's business deallings in Zimbabwe.

Just Design for the Main Street of Syracuse

2010-04-19T13:21:00.000-07:00

During my visit to Syracuse on the 14th and 15th of April, I had a chance to visit the downtown area, around S. Salina Street. There are lots of people working in the area and passing through, but not enough to fill the space or support a lively commercial presence. I was wondering about this as I walked around. I noticed three problems that I have seen addressed in other places, and to good effect.

The first problem was emptiness -- there are a lot of parking lots around downtown Syracuse, and a very large public plaza which is good for summer festivals but contributes to the void at this time of year. Filling in some of the spaces would help to make the place more viable. In an earlier post I talked about Tom Low's sprawl repair: that would be a good tactic in Syracuse. Additionally, urban renewal and highway construction have created voids between downtown and the neighborhoods and the reconnection of downtown with the surrounding areas would be a great blessing. Some of this reconnection has started by telling Professor Kendall Phillips leads a public memory project, and at the Public Memory site you can hear the wonderful stories of the old 15th Ward..

Second, the area was redlined in the 1930s, and the uneven development continues, and contributes to a sense of class and race divisions that make the area unstable. Making it more open would do much to improve the stability of the area. Syracuse University has started a "connective corridor" to connect the university to the city. I am not convinced that "corridor" is the right metaphor to count redlining in spirit or form: time will tell.

Third, the area lacked trees and green. Syracuse has a short growing season, so evergreens would be very helpful for the streetscape. I saw a wonderful art project on the quad at the University of Syracuse in which a tree was dressed in a crocheted gown, and made it very colorful. This is a creative solution to the problem of a late spring.

Design that springs from justice has the potential to reknit this wonderful city and unleash its creative potential.

Upcoming visit to Syracuse

2010-03-28T08:49:00.001-07:00

My Main Street Project will take me to Syracuse for meetings April 14th and 15th. I have been to Syracuse several times at the invitation of various members of the faculty at Syracuse University. Professor Sandy Lane (author of "Why are our babies dying?") hosted my visit after the publication of my book Root Shock: How Tearing Up City Neighborhoods Hurts America and What We Can Do About It. That was a great pleasure as I got to tour the neighborhoods and meet many good people working on behalf of their city. Then and on later visits I learned that Syracuse's downtown is challenged by the sundering of the connections to the nearby neighborhoods. This is a problem which can be found in many American cities, including Charlotte, NC, and Roanoke, VA. I am looking forward to meeting with various groups, and learning more about the ways in which Syracuse University is connecting with the city for mutual benefit. Syracuse is a great and noble American city and it is a delight to visit.

Pedestrian meters stop walking

2010-03-28T08:41:00.000-07:00

I was walking on South Orange Avenue, in South Orange, NJ, yesterday, and at the major intersection there is a pedestrian meter, one of those buttons that people are supposed to press if they want to cross the street. These are annoying buttons. One has only to observe pedestrian behavior around such buttons to see that they present an obstacle to walkers. There are two such buttons near where I live in Jersey City, by Van Vorst Park, a lively, well-used park that attracts people from all around. The buttons work poorly, if at all, and for the most part, people just cross without pushing the button. In South Orange, the installation of such buttons on their Main Street raises some particular concerns. The buildings on the eastern part of South Orange Avenue, which has stores on one side of the street and a church on the other, are about half vacant. I don't know the reason for this, but the flow of walkers has to be considered. Putting another obstacle in the path of walkers is not a good idea for any shopping street. If there are problems with traffic in a downtown area, the cars should be slowed, and the pedestrians celebrated. We are in a crisis of inactivity and obesity in our nation in part because of a car-oriented mentality. Pedestrian meters are a sure sign of over-valuing cars.

Ben and Jerry's Free Cone Day on Main Street

2010-03-23T17:45:00.000-07:00

Palisades Avenue in Englewood, NJ, is one of the principal streets in my study of Main Streets. I am there a couple of times a week, and I was really glad I was scheduled to be there today when a student of mine pointed out that it was free cone day. Few events make people happier than free cone day. My granddaughter Lily went with her Spanish class after learning to say "Podemos ir a Ben and Jerry's por el dia de helado gratis?" She said that Ben and Jerry's in Hoboken, where she goes to school, had lots of happy people, including some high school seniors who were making repeat visits. In Englewood there was a great crowd. Palisades Avenue bears the patterns of old segregation, with people of color to the west, and white people to the east. Ben and Jerry's, perhaps this is not surprising, is on the eastern side. But today everybody was there, giggling in anticipation of the free treat. Why should free ice cream cause so much joy? Maybe because it's one of the true signs that spring has come, and maybe this, too, is not surprising. But that it is so pleasant it bends racial strictures must be a credit to those happy Vermont cows.

Saratoga's racing and bathing

2010-03-15T12:03:00.000-07:00

Saratoga Springs, home of mineral springs and a famous racetrack, lends itself to two activities that couldn't be more opposite if they tried. Soaking in a mineral bath at the Saratoga Spa State Park, as I did yesterday, is the epitome of calm and relaxation. Add the "Almost Heaven" scented bath oil and you're there. What a contrast to the hustle and bustle of the racing scene, pounding thoroughbreds on the track and scheming wiseguys all around. I love the idea that for nearly 200 years people have been taking the train to Saratoga to take part in this peculiar intersection of fast and not. If racing is Saratoga's heart, its "Gut," according to the local signs, was a Jewish community that lived on the street parallel to Broadway, the city's Main Street. That neighborhood's independent spirit added another layer of complexity to the local system, creating a door for alternate cultures that is filled these days by peace activitists, coffee shops and folks singers, and a vital farmers market. Saratoga, with its Diamond Jim Brady Plaza and Olmsted Park, is a quirky mixture of cultural threads, defying easy categorization and oversimplification. I hope New York State straightens out its racing crisis so that the season and the city can continue to be this enjoyable yin/yang place.

Ernest Thompson, Orange Organizer

2010-03-11T07:09:00.000-08:00

My father, Ernest Thompson, was an organizer in Orange, NJ. He began his work there in 1957, when he started a campaign to desegregate the schools. This led to a successful effort to secure political representation for the black community. He and his colleagues used the power they had won to fight for quality education for all children. He said, at the outset of the school fight, "If we do not fight for all children, we will not fight at all." His commitment to inclusion helped to shape a better city. Thompson's life and work were celebrated at this year's Black History Month observation at Orange Middle School. Here is a film that was made for the occasion. The story of his organizing is told in the book, "Homeboy Came to Orange: A Story of People's Power."

Repairing Suburban Sprawl

2010-03-02T06:52:00.000-08:00

Tom Hanchett, who is one of my favorite historians, sent this link about repairing sprawl in Charlotte. It is a lovely example of how a hostile corner can be pacified and made safe for walking. Tom Low, who's group did the work, leads a lively discussion group on urban issues and is constantly pushing the envelope for better city living.

The Levine Museum on Main Street

2010-02-19T06:30:00.000-08:00

The Levine Musuem of the New South is a wonderful museum. Tom Hanchett, who is a regular correspondent of this blog, is the historian there. His great book, Sorting Out the New South City, is essential reading for understanding the race and class structure of American urban space. His close analysis of Charlotte's history informs the museum, giving it wisdom and kindness. A lovely review in this week's New York Times captures the essence of that accomplishment. The Museum's Main Street location, like that of the Civil Rights Museum in the Lorraine Motel in Memphis, is much to be celebrated. These showplaces help to create the central energy that is the real gift Main Streets can offer us. Next time you're in Charlotte, be sure to visit the Levine Museum and stroll down the Main Street. You'll enjoy it.

Going to the show

2010-02-04T09:48:00.000-08:00

Tom Hanchett, historian at the Levine Museum of the New South, sent along a link to Asheville's page at the site, Going to the Show. It is fascinating to learn about theaters, their locations and their role in daily life in the early 20th century. The site also gives us plenty of ideas for ways to connect information so that we can learn about our cities.

Memphis' Main Street

2010-01-28T18:35:00.000-08:00

I had the great pleasure of visiting Main Street, Memphis, TN today, hosted by Altha Stewart and Emma Martin. Reverend Noel Hutchinson oriented me to Memphis, saying that there's so much history here you could easily spend three days seeing sights without repeating any. He took me to see the small music studio where Al Green recorded his hit records. I really connected with his insight as Altha, Emma and I were driving on and around Main Street. The historic waterfront, the touristy Beale Street, the tragic Lorraine Motel, and so many other places that are iconic parts of American life are right there by Main Street. Memphis has turned this to advantage, dressing Main Street up for the tourists. I can understand the impulse to do this, as the place touches the kind of deep feelings that attract people. But there was also a tendency to remarkable paintings on buildings -- not slogany murals, but real, deeply felt works of art -- and these sprouted all around Main Street as they seem to do throughout the city. They are a sign that Main Street is still serving local people, though perhaps not as well as it serves visitors from around the world. In that same vein of ambiguity, Main Street Memphis is not as thin as some I have seen, but it has its share of nearby empty lots, reminders of a lost industrial past. How does Main Street help in the reinvention of Main Street? If it has no room for the locals, the city has lost a key place of conversation. In that situation, how does the city have the conversation that's needed to save the city? It reminds me of the nursery rhyme "For want of a nail, the shoe was lost..." Memphis' ambiguity strikes me as holding enough connection to itself that it is a chance of holding that necessary conversation. At the same time, it has the stirring creativity of great port city. I say Memphis is a city to watch.

Terri Baltimore's address to SAJE People's Planning School

2010-01-15T05:27:00.000-08:00

Terri Baltimore is a community organizer in Pittsburgh, PA, working in the Hill District. This African American neighborhood is a famous place, home to many artists, including August Wilson whose plays detail life in there. In 2007, Terri Baltimore addressed the SAJE People's Planning School and shared the story of her work in the Hill District. I was a part of that work, beginning in 1997, when I was invited to address residents who were being displaced by HOPE VI. I came to Pittsburgh knowing that displacement was a painful and costly process. I learned while there that displacement was not simply a problem of the past, but was a repeated problem, affecting the same spaces and the same people, over and over. This summer I plan to go back to Pittsburgh to understand another part of this story: economic displacement by deindustrialization.

New York Moments

2010-01-11T14:05:00.000-08:00

Here's one way to see the city.

Vinegar Hill, Charlottesville, VA

2010-01-05T12:38:00.000-08:00

Tom Hanchett, historian at the Museum of the New South, sent an email about a student project depicting what urban renewal did to the African American community of Vinegar Hill. He notes, "Here's an absolutely PHENOMENAL visualization of the African American neighborhood that was wiped out by Urban Renewal in Charlottesville, VA. Delve especially into the dryly named 'Appraisal' page -- the more you click, the more impressive it gets." Hanchett is himself a student of urban change, having authored, Sorting Out the New South City, which tells the story of Charlotte, NC. Over the course of its development, Charlotte was transformed from a small city in which people lived near others who were different in race and in class, to a much larger city strictly divided by race+class.

December 5th in the Urbanist's Calendar

2009-12-05T13:22:00.000-08:00

On December 1st, 1995, Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat on a bus, a watershed moment in the modern Civil Rights movement. Protests up that point were important but small: Freedom Riders on a bus, for example, or protesters at a lunch counter. The Montgomery Bus Boycott was a mass movement, in which 50,000 people boycotted the bus system for more than a year, until integration was achieved. The mass movement actually started on Monday December 5th. People who were leaders of the movement all described what it was like to wait for the first buses that Monday morning, wondering if the masses of black people would agree to boycott. It was thrilling when the buses started to roll past empty! That night, in the first mass meeting of the Montgomery protest, Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr., stepped forward to lead the movement. In film of that night, we can see him hesitate for second, knowing that he is changing the course of history and of his own life. He steps forward humbly to do his part. December 5th, then, is an important day in the urbanist's calendar. A quirky aspect of the day in the New York Metropolitan area is that December 5th marks an abrupt shift in the weather, from fall to winter. There is usually a storm on that day. This has frustrated our efforts to have December 5th parties, I can assure you. Just as we know that the first weekend in June is likely to be fine for our Hike the Heights party, we know that December 5th will be blustery for whatever we have planned. In these uncertain times, I found today's snowflakes reassuring. Happy December 5th to one and all!

Main Street Shopping

2009-12-01T19:09:00.000-08:00

Main Streets, like every part of our commercial sector, are trying to get a piece of the holiday shopping action. In Orange, the Urban Enterprise Zone has hung signs telling people to come "Home for the Holidays." In Hoboken flyers have been announcing that there will be entertainment this week during special evening hours at participating boutiques. In Jersey City, which is also an urban enterprise zone, the mayor has been on television urging people to shop locally and save on taxes. I like these campaigns and intend to do my shopping on Main Streets. It will be a fun time for meeting friends and family, and taking in the sights and sounds of the neighborhoods. But more important, I can find out what's up in America. What will the people be doing? How are they managing? There's no place like Main Street to find out what's up with "Main Street." As we face the expansion of another terrible war, more bad news about the economy, and the strains of the cold and flu season, I want to know what my fellow Americans are feeling.

Creating a plan for the Heart of Orange

2009-11-23T19:15:00.000-08:00

I have been participating in a team that is developing a plan for the center of Orange, NJ, an area we nicknamed the "Heart of Orange." When I was growing up in Orange, that area was divided into an east side ghetto for black people and a west side ghetto for Italians, each equipped with a Y and a housing project. When I was a teenager, the building of Interstate 280 added a north/south divide, cutting off the more working class north side from the wealthier south. The "Heart of Orange" addresses these divides, posing the question, "Can we create ONE ORANGE?" At the end of March, Michel Cantal-Dupart came to consult with us. Cantal-Dupart, who is chair of the department of urbanism and the environment at the National Conservatory of Arts and Trades in Paris, France, pointed out the ways in which both the railroad and the highway cut the city, neither injury to the urban tissue treated in the elegant manner that would create unity in the city. Furthermore, the train, the city's trump card for the 21st century, was treated as a stepchild. He pointed to the dismal lot that greets people arriving from New York and Newark and asked us, "Is this a welcome?" Shamefacedly we all had to admit it was not. "Organize a day," he urged, "and clean the litter. Plant trees. Play music from all the world. In no time at all, this will be such a beautiful urban center that people will have a new image of Orange. They will say what a great place to go for fun!" As we worked on the Heart of Orange plan, Cantal-Dupart's words rang in our ears, reminding us to think forward into the 21st century, as we clean up of the messes left by history. We'd appreciate comments on the Heart of Orange plan. It can be found at the University of Orange website.

When sidewalks rule

2009-11-03T06:01:00.000-08:00

In Northern New Jersey, this Halloween was sensational, thanks to its being on a Saturday and having warm weather. People were outside all day, ohhing over princesses and ahhing over superdogs. In Jersey City, where I live, people sat on the stoops with bowls of candy for passing sprites. Crowds in costumes congregated in the small front yards. I took granddaughter Lily to Hoboken where she went trick-or-treating. The usually difficult streets were impassable, clogged in the afternoon with small batmen and in the evening with slutty nurses. Lily rushed home to weigh her candy and was thrilled to have 8 pounds of the stuff. One of her classmates--an even more aggressive hunter-gatherer--ended up with 25 pounds of candy. Lily said, "People in Hoboken are so rich they just put out bowls of candy and we all took a lot." The pleasure of this was insane, and eclipsed all the Halloweens she'd observed to date. In the milling and giving and smiling and admiring, the cities I passed through--Englewood, Hoboken and Jersey City--celebrated with great style the urbanists' holiday, the day when sidewalks rule.

"Nobody" goes there

2009-10-29T19:24:00.000-07:00

I had a wonderful visit to Muhlenberg College in Allentown, PA. In addition to spending time on the lovely campus, I got to poke around in the city, enjoying Historic Allentown especially. I walked on the Main Street, Hamilton Street, and took pictures as I do everywhere I go. In front of the city's tallest building a guard warned me that it was forbidden to photograph that location. There were no signs announcing this, but he insisted that if I were spotted on the cameras, the police would be called and they would take my camera away. My attachment to my camera is profound and this antagonized me, though I tried to remain civil. "I'm just telling you," he said in a tone that was none too friendly, which provoked me further. I looked around at their all-too-empty street, and thought, "That's why nobody's here: you lot don't trust people." This, of course, was a snap judgement based on annoyance and not information, but sometimes bad judgements provoke closer inspection and help us get closer to the truth. This was such a time.

As I walked along, the people of Allentown set out to disprove my unfair idea about their friendliness. I was taking a picture of the New Museum when a passerby smiled and pointed out the Indian Store, which she said she loved and she showed me the ring she'd gotten there. She also showed me two lovely bracelets she'd gotten at the dollar store. A young man, wearing a dollar store uniform, walked by and smiled and said hello in a very friendly manner. I laughed at a bit of urban collage made by someone who had the bright idea to add two stickers of eyes to a piece of abstract art on the wall of a very ugly building. The silly eyes humanized the whole thing, and seemed to saying, "It's OK!" Then a woman blowing leaves as part of the Hamilton Street Crew said that she was making a pile and I could jump in in a minute. She laughed and so did I.

By this time, I was in a much better mood. I climbed up on the Civil War Monument to get a picture down the length of the street. I expected the police to arrest me as the forbidden building was looming on the horizon and I got it in my photo, but I got clean away. I stopped to admire the ruins of an old bridge that crossed the rushing Jordan Creek, and which was beautifully decorated with a graffiti refrain that read Jesus Saves. "Is spray-painting a religious slogan a sin?" I asked myself, still a bit stuck on crime and punishment.

At the college a bit later that morning, one of the students described Main Street in her hometown and said that there's a lot of violence on Main Street so "nobody" goes there. This, of course, raised a paradox: if nobody goes there, who is doing the violence? Anyway, in that case violence was keeping people away, while in Allentown I was wondering if repression were the cause.

With so many questions in my head, I figured I should go the Visitors' Center and get some information. The woman who ran the place was very helpful, and I learned that there was an outstanding regional art museum, just 3 blocks away. I immediately went over, and was rewarded handsomely by the chance to see an outstanding exhibit of artists who had funded by the Julius Rosenwald Fund to do work on Black life in the 1930s and 40s. I knew a few of the paintings, but not most, and the sculpture and dance were entirely new to me.

As I exited the museum, uplifted by the chance to imagine the world in a new way, I was struck by a block-long paved plaza across the street in front of the museum. It was bounded to the north by a large bronze horse that flanked the Art School, to the east by a mural with a wonderful trompe l'oeil, and to the south by a historic county building. The plaza was not empty: people were having lunch, walking to and fro, chatting, enjoying the beautiful fall day. It was a place anybody would go.

Civil Rights on Main Street

2009-10-19T19:28:00.000-07:00

I went to Raleigh, NC, a while back, and to Birmingham last week. The two cities have this in common: they have a black Main Street parallel to the white Main Street. In decades past these were flourishing streets, home to an array of businesses and cultural institutions. Much of the strength has drained away, as commerce has shifted to other sites. But the streets remain a vital part of the history, including the history of the struggle for civil rights. My visit to Birmingham was led by two veterans of the civil rights movement there. As young people, they had faced the fire hoses and been to jail. They remembered the police coming down black Main Street and every spot in the days of confrontation. "We were having a ball," remembered one. His sister had more somber reflections. She pointed to a photograph of one of the girls killed in the bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church and said, "That was my best friend." The others who died were also part of her world, and the seriousness of her experience weighed in her voice. The struggle to undo segregation was essential for survival, and it meant that the side-by-side Main Streets would face a new future. Desegregating the lunch counters, the movie theaters, and the clothes stores eliminated the need for redundancy which fell hardest on the black side. But that it did was a failure of the commercial sector -- the Chamber of Commerce and City Hall -- to envision how to reorganize and repurpose existing stores and experienced business people. This is a sad pattern in our nation's economy. White Main Street faced a similar crisis when malls drew commerce from downtowns. The current downsizing is revisiting that problem, albeit that China is taking over, not white Main Street. How does that which is redundant by one yardstick come to have new usefulness by another? This is a fundamental question that we should ask and answer throughout our nation.

Homesteading on the urban prairie

2009-10-12T12:39:00.000-07:00

The large spaces in cities weigh heavily on urban function. They are evidence of really really bad policies carried out in the past. They cry out for really really good interventions in the future. Ecologist Rodrick Wallace, co-author of A Plague on Your Houses, has pointed out the policies that led to the burning down of New York, Newark, Detroit and other cities replaced urban renewal when that program became the target of citizen protest. The replacement policy -- planned shrinkage -- itself went out of vogue, but has had a recrudescence lately. Politicians and policy makers have proposed planned shrinkage for Youngstown, Flint, Detroit and other cities with substantial amounts of vacant land. The proponents of planned shrinkage argue that the best thing to do is to consolidate functions in the best developed parts of the city and let the semi-deserted places be bulldozed, and left fallow for later development.

Walking past a very large empty block in Newark, NJ, I considered this proposition. What is left unsaid in the paens to planned shrinkage is that such upheaval is the cause of social disruption and disease which is impossible to control. Indeed, the fallout of planned shrinkage in New York includes a chilling list of epidemics that includes AIDS, crack, violence, asthma and obesity, as well as associated social problems like high rates of infant and maternal mortality, school failure, and delinquency. What sane society would choose such a self-destructive path?

What is the sane alterative? I have seen glimpses of it in cities all over the US, where people are working to restore the urban ecosystem, using a combination of tools designed for careful recovery. They must restore the space, protecting what exists and rebuilding where needed. At the same time, they must get people excited about the possibilities for their own living in the restored space.

I saw this two-pronged approach come alive this weekend at the Valley Arts District Open Studio Stroll in Orange and West Orange, NJ. The Valley was an industrial center, but its big factories are now silent, and much of the area abandoned. Out of years of community planning came a vision for making the Valley an Arts District. For several years this plan has been pursued by builders building, artists creating their works, and organizers gathering people. In "don't you love it when a plan comes together" fashion, the places were finally open, the art ready for display and the people eager to come. The joy and excitement were palpable, the experience fulfilling, the possibilities for more development nearly endless.

The existence of large spaces in cities is unnatural and intimidating, but it should not automatically lead us to think, "Oh let's bulldoze the whole thing." We can reknit cities, restoring the urban ecosystem, by systematic application of the principles of careful recovery.

Main Street Lunch

2009-09-28T13:25:00.000-07:00

A full-service Main Street is many things to many people, but certainly one of them is a place to have lunch. Broadway in New York is one of the great Main Streets of the world, and I had lunch today with Dr. Mark Boutros just off Broadway. In American culture, which views work in a very Puritan fashion, lunch is not work. But in many parts of the world with productivity superior to that in US, lunch is understood to be a crucial part of work. Lunch is a pause, during which we reflect, we connect to others, we integrate work and play, and we recharge for the afternoon's duties. Many working people were lunching in the area: construction workers, office workers, finance and real estate workers, and researchers like us. Their comings and goings were marked by discussions of golf, getting a good deal at Duane Reade, finding the best soup, and hope for the weather. Many found a place to sit in a pocket park, relaxing and people-watching. Mark's brain works at super speed, and he makes connections that open new windows on the subjects under discussion. I returned with a whole new mind, as Daniel Pink might tell us. By sending a researcher back to work with new ideas, Main Street lunch demonstrated the way in which it benefits society. More to come...

Music on the Street

2009-09-26T19:40:00.000-07:00

The Grove Street Path Station in Jersey City was not a place of any particular distinction or attraction until a recent renovation created a public square around the entrance. The square has become a center of civic life. On Friday nights, an arts scene has blossomed. Last night, Con Vivo, a chamber music group that plays in outdoor venues all over Jersey City, was playing as part of the regular Friday evening arts and crafts market. It was not an ideal setup as even the loudest pieces they were playing could not compete with the traffic and the fall temperatures were better suited for walking than serious attention to music. Yet it was a stunning place to be on a Friday night, after work. The joyous spirit of the musicians seemed to feed off the ever-changing street scene. They laughed when the wind blew over their music stands, and they chased the single sheets of music before they blew off. It reminded me what pleasure there is to be had in taking the world just as it is, loud, blustery, and full of tired people straining to hear anyway.

[murmur] Orange

2009-09-21T08:01:00.001-07:00

Yesterday I attended a wonderful party celebrating the launch of [murmur] Orange, a new project telling stories of the city in the words of its citizens. Over the summer, teenagers collected and edited stories about places. These were edited and posted on the web. Then organizers installed signs at the spots, informing passersby that they could hear a story by calling a number and entering the location's code.

At the party, the youth talked about their experience of doing the project. They agreed that they had gotten to know their city in a whole new way. The stories helped them understand and take pride in their hometown. They hope that people who listen to the stories will share this new awareness of the city.

To that end, the [murmur] organizers -- Shawn Micallef and Robin Elliott of Toronto -- proposed that we all go out on an algorithmic psychogeographic walk. This is a pretty random walk through a city, governed by directions like "Walk two blocks, turn right, walk two blocks turn right, walk one block, turn left." My team and I wandered around the Valley's old industrial sites. We stopped by the great local restaurant, Bella Italia, which is one of the [murmur] sites. We didn't immediately see the small green ear which is the [murmur] signature sign, so we asked at the restaurant. The maitre d' said we'd find on the side, and we did. We called the number, and heard a story about a young man who celebrated his eighth grade graduation at the restaurant and won the prize for best dressed. He won a hat covered with glitter. "I have a love/hate relationship with that hat," he chuckled.

Molly Rose Kaufman, community organizer, and Khemani Gibson, one of the youths involved in the project, shared their enthusiasm in an interview on public radio. The stories and the storytellers reveal a complex and dynamic little city, willing to share its hopes and scars through this new medium of digital storytelling. For more info on the project, check out the Star-Ledger article, which appeared on September 29, 2009.

ps--I'm one of the people interviewed and I tell a story about growing up in the historic Unitarian Universalist Church on Ben Jones Street.

Downtown living

2009-09-18T07:34:00.001-07:00

Much has been written about the benefits of downtown living: it's fun, it offers great convenience and saves on car travel, and, at high densities, people can pool their resources more effectively. After one month of downtown living, I think that the pundits understate two things. The first is what I will call the "hard factor": noise and concrete everywhere. I live on a pretty busy street that leads to a hospital. The sudden, blaring noises in the middle of the night are quite terrifying for one used to nothing louder or sharper than cicadas. The noises are interesting, penetrating, and a challenge to the suburbanite. The concrete, too, presses on nerves used to soothing presence of grass. Grass, it is true, is overdone in the American suburb, but it is still deliciously gentle to eyes, feet, and hands; concrete, not so much.

The second understated aspect of downtown living is what I'd like to call the "did-I-just-see-that? factor." Walking down the street is series of collisions with the worlds of others, people who are muttering to themselves, hotly debating with their walking partner, or cajoling their dogs. Strangers are comfortably in their own space, though on the sidewalk with me, and therefore slices of their lives are suddenly open for my inspection and, I must say, entertainment. A walk in the suburbs offered little more of interest than which of my neighbors' shrubs was in bloom. A walk downtown is a visit to the circus. A walk in the suburbs was simply a stroll out and back along one or two set routes. A walk downtown has an endless number of destinations and an enormous number of options of how to get there. It is even true that sometimes I am part of the circus. One day, the young ladies of my family were practicing a new dance step, and a man driving past took the time to offer his compliments, which threw them into gales of laughter.

With Main Street at my doorstep, I am primed for an even deeper understanding of what these streets mean in our daily commerce. I also plan to have an office on a commercial street, Central Avenue in Orange. It is not Main Street, but just nearby. The building where I hope to rent boasts a new Daily Soup cafe, and it shares a corner with Rita's Deli and White Castle. So, many observations to come!

Paddling the Bronx River

2009-08-21T05:27:00.001-07:00

Yesterday I had the remarkable treat of going canoeing on the Bronx River with colleagues from Montefiore Hospital who are celebrating the recovery of the borough. The Bronx was badly damaged in the 1970s by the civic policy of planned shrinkage, which had the horrific unintended consequence of spreading the AIDS epidemic, and unleashing drug epidemics that in turn created overwhelming violence with all its accompanying illnesses. Montefiore has been one of the hospitals at Ground Zero of this succession of catastrophes, leading the treatment and research endeavors for all these problems. Like other organizations it has soldiered along doing what it could for recovery. The Bronx River Alliance is another example of an organization committed to the recovery of the Bronx, and doing the slow, considered work that I've come to call "careful recovery." Since the 1970s the Alliance has been cleaning the river and bringing people to the river so that it might function as a "Main Street" of recreation and community life. They have removed 70 cars and 12,000 tires, and fought for better caretaking by upstream communities which still dump on the river. They hope to make the river swimmable, and they are nearing that goal -- what a wonderful gift that will be to the Bronx! What makes this "careful recovery" are the following characteristics: they haven't gone for a quick fix, indeed, they know there isn't one; they are aware of and seek to understand all the complexities of life along the river, its ecosystem; they teach others to love the river as they do; and they reach out to all the communities that might help. Careful recovery helps all the injured parts of the ecosystem -- animal, vegetable and mineral.

The river I visited yesterday was sparkling in the sun, and its clear bottom was free of debris. People were gathered at its edges, longing to get in, which some had done though the probably to their peril -- it's not that clean just yet. The river plays peek-a-boo with the city. At one point we got stuck on a sand bar just under a bridge. A man on the bridge helped us get our canoe going the right way, just as he would have helped us get our car off a patch of ice. Another time we heard a man singing, though we couldn't see him. My granddaughter Lily shouted, "You sound great!" "I think it's important to compliment people," she said to Greg and me, her fellow paddlers. What was the man thinking to hear a voice come out of nowhere? There are so few paddlers on the river, he might not have thought to look for the voice there.

When we arrived at the Bronx Zoo, we entered a small lake created by dams built hundreds of years ago to power small factories. There insects hovered over the water and water birds collected, including an egret, a duck, and a seagull. Dart Westphal, who had organized our trip, said that a beaver had been spotted on the river, the first since the dams were built in the 1700s. When he heard about the beaver he went out and bought a beaver tie and gave beaver toys to all his friends: that is how careful recovery works, I thought to myself, celebrating small victories on the road to Recreation Main Street.

The services of Main Street

2009-08-05T10:45:00.000-07:00

Cities are complex systems, and each arises as part of a larger system of cities. Cities are internally organized and connected to and concerned with the rural areas that give them sustenance. They are decorated with monumental buildings that embody the ideals and structure of the local culture. They are centers of human living, energized with exchange. The Main Streets of our era play a crucial role in organizing cities along all of these dimensions. A way to begin to look at Main Streets is to consider the way in which the street serves these many functions. Is it connecting the parts of the city? Does it connect to other cities and to the countryside? Does it display the city's monuments? Does it help to energize interpersonal exchange? Is it serving the whole population of the city, or only part? Does it carry out its duties with panache? These questions, drawn from research on the history of cities, offer us an excellent metric for thinking about the cities to be visited in this project.

Urban festivals make cities fun

2009-08-02T19:59:00.000-07:00

In the spectacular film about the diaspora after Hurricane Katrina "Axe in the Attic" there is a woman who was displaced to Florida. She remembered that everyone there went to the mall on the weekends. "I said, 'Don't you people have a fest? Don't you have a jazz fest, a river fest, any kind of fest?'"

What is a city without a fest? I think festivals are a modern version of the market fair, which would create centers of exchange, energy and imagination in times when cities were smaller and travel much harder. A few years ago I spent a delightful few days in a city near Avignon which was the site of one of the largest medieval markets in Europe, and I was very interested to learn how such markets worked. I think that today's festivals follow in the footsteps of those long ago events. A city without a fest is a city without a way of quickening its heartbeat and stimulating its methods of exchange.

So far this summer, I've been to Moosefest in Bennington, Vermont, with my medical school classmate, Dr. Martha Stittelman, and Spiedie Fest and Balloon Rally in Binghamton, NY with my college classmate, Dr. Francine Rainone. Moosefest is an art installation on and around Main Street in Bennington. The moose are large and fabulous, big enough to stop traffic and interesting enough to provoke conversation. Martha asked the useful question, "How does art stimulate the urban economy?" Happily for me, we could see it at work as we walked around: people were walking on Main Street to see the moose (plural: moose), and that meant that all kinds of other things were happening, beginning with two young girls who were playing violin to raise money for the local animal shelter. People gathered around to hear them play, smiled at each other, gave money, left feeling better about the world and their place in it and voila! we have a better economy because of art. Martha, who rarely goes to Main Street, was proud to show it to me, and I enjoyed seeing it. My favorite moose: Camping Moose.

Binghamton's Spiedie Fest and Balloon Rally was celebrating its 25th year. "Spiedie" are Italian skewered meat, a version of shish kebab, started no one knows when or how. This is only in Binghamton, so it is very local treat. Spiedie Fest is a community festival held in a local park, which becomes Main Street for the weekend. As such, it sets a fine example of what all Main Streets should be: it has rides, crafts, a vintage car show, music, and, of course, spiedies. I loved SpiedieFest because it was simple and real -- the crafts were actual things people had made, not tube socks. A special highlight was that the New York State Comptroller's Office had a tent there and Francine and I both found that we were owed money! Free money, good crafts, tasty food! If every Main Street had those things, people would be pouring in the way they were pouring in to Spiedie Fest! Food for thought...

Main Street, the East End and the Wooly Adelgid

2009-07-21T19:00:00.000-07:00

In February I visited Asheville, North Carolina. The week before I'd been in Raleigh and spring was swelling in the bushes. I was sure that I'd have the joys of early spring during my trip. I was there as part of a celebration of Asheville history as captured in the photographs of Andrea Clark, which were on exhibit at the public library. I was enthralled by her remarkable photos of a lost place, destroyed for road widening. While there, the newspapers reported on two topics that also caught my eye: the plans for Downtown Asheville and the wooly adelgid, which is attacking the hemlock forests which dominate the mountainsides. Thinking about Clark's photographs, downtown planning and ecological disaster helped me to grasp a point that my urbanism teacher, Michel Cantal-Dupart, has made many times. Cities are complex ecological systems, and demand that we consider questions from the perspective of history, our hopes for the future and the current ecological realities. I was delighted that my thoughts on this topic were recently published in Asheville's Urban News.

I had gone to Asheville expecting early spring, but forgetting that spring is notoriously unstable, hot one day and cold the next. And even, as in this case, snowing. A snowstorm hit, and absent plows and sanders, the snow shut the city and its airport down. I was delighted to find that Bistro 1896, which was a couple of blocks from my hotel, was open for lunch and dinner through the storm and its aftermath. The restaurant had a delicious menu, light, flavorful, and fun. It is a place that captures the charm and friendliness of the region. I highly recommend it, should you happen to find yourself in Asheville.

Overdevelopment and underdevelopment

2009-07-21T15:01:00.000-07:00

Monday night, July 20th, I attended a birthday party for contractor Mark Miller and developer Patrick Morrissy. It was held at an old industrial building that Morrissy's organization, HANDS, Inc., is redeveloping into a restaurant, apartment, and artist studios. The party was held in the unfinished artist studios, with their roof still open to the sky and trees. The sound and hearty core of the building is still visible. Coquelle's Bakery used to occupy the site, and Jeannie Morrissy shared memories of what a lively place it was, and what delicious brownies they made there. Miller and Morrissy are giving new life to the building and to the corner of Scotland Road and Central Avenue, which looks down on its luck. That perception will change this week when Anthony Wood, the proprietor of Daily Soup, opens for business. He has a keen sense of fun and a bright, spacious restaurant which shades from casual in the front to more formal in the rear. Last night he delighted the partygoers with frozen yogurt mixed with outrageous toppings. The young Morrissys, Claire and Tim, promised to try all the combinations of three and write about their findings in their food blog. Food is fun in Orange, and the air is full of possibility. This photo of me withmy daughter Molly and mother Maggie was taken by Herb Way, who graduated with me from Orange High School back in 1967.

Today -- the 21st -- I had lunch on Palisades Avenue with Bob Stern, who lived in Englewood for many years before moving to Montauk. When asked what he was up to, he confessed, rather sheepishly, that he was the president of the Concerned Citizens of Montauk and was fighting developers who want to do irresponsible building. As this is exactly what he was doing in Englewood, he wanted to be the first to admit "plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose"!

Bob believes in democracy and makes it work by doing his part to hold people accountable to the larger society. He recounted lots of stories of confronting people who's irresponsible building poses a threat to the area's charm and sustainability. In listening to his stories of fighting of developers and their money, I was reminded of how hard Morrissy and his colleagues work to bring investors' dollars to Orange. In a reasonable world, the dollars that are poised to destroy Montauk would be redirected to Orange. Overdevelopment will wreck one beautiful and precious natural treasure, while underdevelopment is ruining a charming and creative little city. But the struggles of the two places are not yet linked, however much they need to be. Overdevelopment and underdevelopment are two sides of one coin: making a fast buck in real estate. Can we ease the greed and create places for people?

Paterson's Main Street

2009-07-09T04:52:00.000-07:00

Karen Washington is a garden designer who has helped me transform my yard. This summer I have been enjoying the pleasures of the new design. I have been sitting in the yard to write while listening to the birds and watching the castor bean grow (it's a Jack-in-the-Beanstalk plant and grows right in front of your eyes). I wanted to thank her for this wonderful transformation in my space so I proposed dinner in Paterson. I found two Turkish restaurants online and I printed out the directions, in one case from Google and in the other from Yahoo. We started off following the directions, and just couldn't find the connections we were supposed to make. That's when it became apparent I hadn't printed out either the names or the phone numbers. I remembered one name -- sort of -- and we called for directions. We couldn't find those connections either, but at this point we decided to follow the signs which got us to Paterson. In Paterson we stopped a young woman coming out of a laundromat and asked how to get to Main Street. "Main Street?" she said, with what I thought was worry in her voice. "You go here and turn before the school, and go all the way down the hill and by the Falls and then to the bottom of the Falls by Burger King and then you make a left, and go to Main Street." At the part where she advised turning "before the school" my heart sank. But Karen got a big smile. "OK!" she said, thanking the woman. We headed off and sure enough, Karen knew exactly how to decipher "before the school," "by the Falls" and "left at Burger King." In no time at all we were on Main Street, heading towards we weren't exactly sure what. Suddenly, I saw a sign for "Alaturk" Turkish restaurant. I had seen this reviewed on the internet. We parked across the street, as advised in the window, and went in. I was a little intimidated, but a smiling young woman came forward and made us feel very welcome. We explained we didn't really know much about Turkish food. She immediately took an interest in introducing us to her cuisine and a feast of yummy dishes started to arrive from the kitchen, all fresh, delicately spiced and wonderfully fun to eat. The most spectacular was Turkish pizza, with a very thin crust and about two feet long, covered with chopped meat. She placed this on the latest edition of the Turkish news. We loved it. She explained that her family had just taken over the restaurant two weeks before. Her husband was the chef and he came out to say hello and we were delighted to tell him how much we enjoyed the food. They have great hopes for the restaurant which has a lovely space for a garden. When I explained that Karen was a garden designer, they asked for her card and took her back to see their yard. She immediately had visions of trees and arbors. I started thinking about grapes and how my own yard, transformed by her alchemy, is now such a wonderful place to pass the hours. When it was time to go, we asked for directions, got on the highway immediately and were home in less time than it takes to tell. I promised Karen that next time she goes on an outing with me, I'll take a map, the name of the restaurant, and the telephone number. She laughed.

Broadway, New York's Main Street

2009-07-06T12:52:00.000-07:00

I am reading Jason Goodwin's detective series, set in Istanbul. This has inspired me to go to Turkey. As part of my travel preparation, my friend and co-worker, Lourdes Hernandez-Cordero and I set out for lunch at Turkuaz, a Turkish restaurant on Broadway at 100th Street. The food was wonderful: very fresh, delicately seasoned, and reminiscent of the meals prepared by Yashim, the star of Goodwin's novels. We went to the ladies' room prior to leaving and there was a painting of women at the hamam. Lourdes and I love to go to the hamam at the Great Mosque in Paris, and we were lamenting the lack of public baths here in New York. There are some, but they tend to be expensive and not the neighborhood affairs that one can find in other countries. The painting also made us think of bra shopping, and we reflected that there must be a great bra store on Broadway, one of those great places where the saleswomen can tell your size by glancing at you as you walk in. We could have just strolled down Broadway -- and in the beautiful weather it was tempting -- but we decided to see what we could learn by phone. She called her friend, who knew of a store on Madison and 90th Street, but we didn't want to leave Broadway. I called my daughter, Molly Rose Kaufman, who immediately went on line and located a place at 77th. A quick cab ride and there we were at Bra Smyth, which was a revelation for me. A short time later, better fitted, dazzled by the wonders of Broadway, and happy with our fieldwork, we headed back uptown to tend to matters at the office.

Naming "Benjamin F. Jones Place - In Honorarium"

2009-06-24T08:35:00.000-07:00

Benjamin F. Jones (see post 4/1/08) was the first African-American elected to City Council in Orange, NJ. Yesterday, the City of Orange Township named a part of Cleveland Street in his honor. Asked to speak at the ceremony, I reflected on a story he loved to tell of a confrontation with my father, Ernest Thompson. Ben was not active in politics, though he was an accomplished professional. My father thought he should be, and would harangue him when they met at the Harmony Bar. One day Ben got tired of this. He threw some money down on the bar and told the bartender, "Set my man up with drinks, I'm out of here." My father ordered him to come back. "Ben, never walk out on Black folks like that. Furthermore, I don't need your money or your liquor without you." For Ben, this was not simply a dispute in a bar, but a deep moment of truth, as if God had spoken to him through Ernie Thompson, sitting on a stool in the Harmony Bar. From that day on, Ben accepted that he had responsibilities to the community that had raised him. He became a student of politics, adding to his innate sense of diplomacy new skills in campaigning, negotiating, developing program and delivering for his constituency. Ben became a man of honor, worthy of having a street named for him, and worthy of being remembered in the annals of Orange.

Making the Just and Beautiful City

2009-06-22T07:04:00.000-07:00

The University of Orange is a free people's university on the web and in Orange, NJ. The University opened in October 2008 and held its first graduation yesterday at the historic Orange Public Library. The graduating class is pictured here on the Main Street steps. It was a busy first year, with courses on AIDS, making a Christmas stocking, displacement, and urban design, among others. In addition to attending courses, students were required to vote (all elections count!), attend a city meeting, volunteer and recreate with neighbors. One student reported that being part of UofO had inspired her. "I've lived in Orange for 22 years, but I've never been as involved as I have been this year." In addition to conferring the degree of "Be Free" two inspiring people were awarded the Doctor of Freedom, the university's honorary degree. Margaret B. Thompson helped to start the fight for school desegregation in the 1950s. Benjamin Franklin Jones served as a councilman in Orange from 1963-1982. They were the oldest graduates of the day. A'Lelia Johnson, at 13, was the youngest.

Jury Duty on Main Street

2009-06-19T17:53:00.000-07:00

Last Tuesday I reported for jury duty to Room 404, the Bergen County Justice Center, 10 Main Street, in Hackensack. A step-by-step video instructed us in what to expect and then we got to get coffee. As we flocked to the little cafeteria, a staff member hollered, "The bus is here!" and then chuckled. Ha ha, make that joke every day. Coffee was excellent, and I took it with me to the quiet room. I read the NY Times inch by inch and finished it all. Then turned to The Baltimore Book, and had finished that when my name got called for a jury pool. We were led to the court of Judge Lisa Firko. She explained that her trial was short, she had air conditioning and it was, therefore, a good way to do our civic duty. I reflected on this, and decided to go with it. The jury selection process followed the video almost to a tee. First we all filled out a questionnaire. Then the judge asked potential jurors to come to the sidebar where she reviewed the questionnaire with the two lawyers listening. Some jurors had a reason they couldn't serve, and therefore were excused. Finally seven people were seated in the jury box, and Judge Firko said, "I'm going to ask a series of questions so we can all get to know a little bit about you." One of the questions was, "Do you have any bumper stickers on your car that aren't about politics?" I was surprised that nobody did -- it seemed to me there were more "Proud to have an honor student at ___" around than that, but maybe I was just noticing those stickers because I have one. Back to business. After we got to know everyone, the lawyers were allowed to exercise their peremptory challenges, those they can exercise without giving a reason. The case related to an injury as a result of a car accident. The first lawyer challenged two people with only high school education. Ah ha, I thought, a complex medical issue is involved, and the lawyer wants people who can handle the science -- I'm a shoe-in if I get called (although I do have that bumper sticker -- I wasn't clear how that would play...). On the other hand, I reasoned, the lawyer might not want a doctor. It was not always clear why the lawyers were challenging -- probably notes they took during the earlier sidebar conversations. After each of the challenges, a new person was called, and the process of sidebar-conversation-getting-to-know-you-conversation was repeated. A couple of times the new juror was challenged, and it all started again. Before we were had managed to pick seven people, lunch recess had arrived. I had never spent much time on the south end of Main Street, where the Justice Center is located. I got lunch at Limon Fine Foods, which has a delightful hot/cold salad bar and nice tables in a bright window. Then I strolled down the street to Hackensack Riverkeeper, where I got pamphlets on nature trails and other activities. The photos were so lovely that I wanted to walk right over to the river and sit and watch birds, but jury duty is serious business. I went back to Judge Firko's courtroom, where we finished jury selection. I was quite disappointed not to be picked, when all was said and done. We went back to Room 404 and I settled into my old seat in the quiet room until we got dismissed. Bergen County is a "one day, one trial" county, so having served my day, I am done for now. I can now spell peremptory, know a new meaning for sidebar, and have a book of nature walks in the glove compartment of my car: a good day, I say.

Festival on the Main Street of the Valley

2009-06-15T07:10:00.000-07:00

Orange, NJ and West Orange, NJ meet in the Valley. An area of dense settlement and heavy industry, it developed its own Main Street, Valley Street, sometimes known as Valley Road. This Main Street has sagged with deindustrialization and disinvestment in the area, but it has not given up. On Saturday, June 13, the street was host to the Valley Arts, Music and Poetry Festival, sponsored by Valley Arts, the City of Orange and HANDS, Inc. There was an on-again-off-again rain falling which moved people in and out of the open, the bands, for example, moved under an overhang at Ricci's, a soon-to-be-reopened restaurant. One vendor had the idea to sell toys, bubble machines and yo-yos and Spiderman balloons, which meant that the rain was full of sparkly bubbles. In the middle of the afternoon several fire trucks arrived and firemen gathered for a short ceremony. The City of Orange is mourning the sudden and unexpected death of its fire Chief, Martin DeMarzo, who died during a routine hernia operation. He was 50 years old. He grew up in the Valley, attended Our Lady of the Valley High School, and loved the area. He was a great supporter of the growing arts district, which is helping to revitalize the area. Karen Wells, one of the organizers of the festival, led a ceremony to plant a bush of bright red roses by the Catholic Veterans Monument. The firemen joined in shoveling the dirt, with smiles and good hearts. Indeed, Marty's whole family was soldiering on, Hallie Bondy reported in the Star Ledger. "Marty would have wanted us to go on," said his brother, Eugene DeMarzo. Valley Street/Road will be a good home for Marty's Roses.

Middle East Baltimore Stories

2009-06-09T09:37:00.000-07:00

In June 2005, I had the opportunity to tour East Baltimore with leaders of Save Middle East Action Committee, SMEAC, a group challenging impoverishment of the neighborhood by development-induced displacement. At that time, the project, proposed by Johns Hopkins Medical Center and led by the East Baltimore Development Corporation, was preparing to level the first phase of the project, a 20-block area adjacent to the medical center. during the tour, I had the opportunity to see the project area, and to talk to some local children who were playing in a fire hydrant. "We're having fun," one boy assured me. SMEAC's approach was to fight for relocation benefits that would actually be sufficient to support relocation; the right to return to the area; and protection from environmental hazards during the demolition. It was a true David-and-Goliath story: Giant Johns Hopkins literally towered over the battered neighborhood, which had suffered grievously from disinvestment.

On a second visit a few years later, I drove by and the children's play area had been torn up and all the houses were gone.

On this visit, I had the opportunity to tour with Leslie Lewis, one of the displaced residents and a leader of SMEAC. Leslie explained the long fight SMEAC had waged, still struggling on issues identified years ago, but also confronting others that had come up in the course of the fight. For example, SMEAC was aware of environmental hazards of demolition, but had not been as cognizant of the effects nearby construction would have on old brick houses. As the displacement played out, SMEAC was becoming more and more aware of what was at stake: the costs of moving, the difficulty in maintaining connections, the problems people faced in getting established elsewhere, and the possibilities that existed in other neighborhoods.

The change in the area was dramatic. Some of the glossy new buildings had gone up in place of the old houses. A very large grassy area stood vacant. Signs were everywhere, proclaiming the "New East Baltimore" was a place of vitality and culture. I didn't know all that much about the neighborhood, but I thought the signs bordered on insulting the old East Baltimore -- wasn't THAT a place of vitality and culture? I was to discover the answer on East Monument Street.

Leslie, Pam -- another SMEAC activist and area residents -- and I stopped for lunch at Northeast Market there. This market has been rated the "best public market" by City Paper, which prized its genuine atmosphere. I was thrilled to tour the place with local peoplewho could explain the food and the scene. Pam said her mother, who lived in the neighborhood, had been in earlier that day. Northeast Market is a crossroads of the neighborhood, a place of good cheer and connection. Peopl were greeting friends and neighbors on all sides. It is sometimes difficult for an outsider to appreciate the reasons for clinging to a neighborhood that has suffered disinvestment as serious as that facing East Baltimore. I instantly understood that the marker, with its lively and humorous vibe, provided a better insight than anything else I had encountered. Who wouldn't want to live near there?

East Monument Street is one of the Main Streets in Baltimore's Main Street Program. It is festooned with Main Street Banners, and is a very lively shopping district. The Main Street website orients the visitor to think of that Main Street as connected to Johns Hopkins and the new biotech center. But the reality is that it is the thriving center of the black community that took root there 50 years ago and which today is still active and devoted to the area.

My sense of that local connection was deepened by the opportunity to attend the launch of the book, Middle East Baltimore Stories: Images and Words from a Displaced Community, a book created by Art on Purpose with support from the Annie E. Casy Foundation. This event, held in the beautiful Reginald F. Lewis of Maryland African American History, celebrated the lives of people whose homes lie in the redevelopment area. The 240 people who came to the event were deeply committed to affirming the vital history of their neighborhood. In a time of contested images, I appreciated Beth Barbush's photographs of people posed in vacant lots holding pictures of their houses which had once stood there. You can listen to an hour of the stories on Marc Steiner Show, WEAA-FM. You can order a copy of the book by sending a check for $20 per copy (shipping included) to: SMEAC, 2111 Ashland Avenue, Baltimore, MD 21205.

Memorial Day 2009

2009-05-25T14:19:00.001-07:00

Main Street, as the center of town, is an important site for observing holidays. Memorial Day may be the best of them all. In Englewood, where I live, Palisades Avenue is cleared of parked cars. The War Monument at the west end of the street becomes the center for a ceremony honoring local veterans. The parade participants gather in their assigned spots.

An appropriately patriotic set of words are delivered. The Mayor has created a plaque to honor the Tuskegee Airmen, one whom lived in Englewood. Other elderly veterans are there. The names of those lost are read, and one of the veterans comments that these were his classmates in high school. It helps to remind us how personal this all is. A young man reads "In Flanders Field," and another reads Lincoln's "Gettysburg Address." Through it all, a few listeners are attentive, while the young people gossip. A microscopic sound system is partly to blame: what are they thinking, there city officials? Haven't they been to Central Park for a concert lately? The ceremony closes with a the Englewood Fire Department's bagpipe player doing "Amazing Grace." It is a long set of cliches, but it supposed to be. People in uniform from today's armed forces, and those in the costumes of earlier wars, remind us that this is Memorial Day: the "ultimate" sacrifice is death.

The parade starts, and the sound is suddenly audible. The kids in drum corps know how to make some noise. The karate school wakes everyone up by breaking boards in mid air and performing spectacular tumbles. The Korean drum band is equally determined to get the crowds' attention, in their case attracting attention with sound and the most beautiful costumes. A group of young people in uniform march by. The 10-year-old boy I am standing next to says wistfully, "I'd like to be in the army."

"It's dangerous," I say.

"I'd like to do something for my country," he replies simply. On his return from the Army, he plans to help the President. "I saw President Obama and I'd like to protect him," he informs me. On another note, a steel drum band passes, playing "This land is your land."

Not that long a distance, not that many parts, but what a glimpse of America in this moment.

Walker Evans’ Postcards of Main Street

2009-02-12T09:18:00.000-08:00

Walker Evans, the great American photographer, was an avid collector of postcards, and his collection is now at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Of the 9,000 postcards in his collection, 700 are on display. As noted by Roberta Smith in the New York Times , "The show opens with a bank of postcards that offer plunging views down the middle of scores of American Main Streets, an almost scary tribute to the country’s can-do spirit, can-doing it again and again.” There are – David Chapin and I counted – 312 postcards of Main Street. This astounding display invited our study. David pointed out that most use one-point perspective that meets the horizon at one-fourth the way up the image. I noted the number of trolley tracks, and my reaction, like that of Smith, was a certain awe of the enthusiasm for urban development – and even inter-urban connection, David noted – among US citizens 100 years ago. It reminded me of the story of General Motors’ systematic attack on the trolleys which opened the way for the triumph of private cars. This kind of privatization of course continues apace, currently moving into private computers and personal phones. While Main Street represents a centripetal force pulling us together for social and economic exchange, our economy runs on incredible centrifugal forces. The result for our cities can be troublesome, as noted by Jane Jacobs: “Probably everyone is aware of certain dependencies by a city on its heart. When a city heart stagnates or disintegrates, a city as a social neighborhood of the whole begins to suffer. People who ought to get together, by means of central activities that are failing, fail to get together. Ideas and money that ought to meet, and do so often only by happenstance in a place of central vitality, fail to meet. The networks of city public life develop gaps they cannot afford. Without a strong and inclusive central heart, a city tends to become a collection of interests isolated from one another. It falters at producing something greater, socially, culturally and economically, than the sum of its separated parts.” (from The Death and Life of Great American Cities, p. 215)

7 AM Eastern Winter Time

2009-01-27T09:49:00.000-08:00

I go to Palisades Avenue in Englewood nearly every morning at 7 AM. I have come to expect it to be dark and dreary. Much to my surprise, this week I arrived to find that it was considerably brighter. What a relief! Winter is far from over -- snow is expected today in fact -- but nights are getting shorter and the days are getting longer so Spring cannot be far behind. All of this made me think about seasons on Main Street. Main Streets are tenaciously busy: the tracks in the snow are mute testimony to the many comings and goings throughout the day and night. But the ways of moving are tempered by weather. People walk quickly and rush inside on cold winter days. They linger over their coffee cups looking out the window with dreams in their eyes. In the summer they don't want to go in and they drink ice coffee while delighting in the patterns of the sidewalk ballet. In an urbanized world with cars and indoor heating we tend to keep going no matter what. We can lose sight of the cycles of the natural world, as I did in thinking it would always be dark at 7 AM. Yet if we look more closely, we find Copernicus was right and Main Street, like the rest of the Earth, revolves around the sun.

My old stompin' grounds

2009-01-07T10:14:00.000-08:00

Professor Hirofumi Minami, an environmental psychologist from Japan, was in town for a visit just before Christmas. David Chapin, an architect on the faculty at CUNY Graduate Center, had hosted Hiro during a year-long stay that began in September 2001. For Hiro, whose research has focused on the recovery of Hiroshima after the atomic bomb attack in 1945, that was a remarkable time to be in New York. The three of us collaborated in an effort called "NYC RECOVERS," an alliance of organizations concerned with the social and emotional recovery of NYC after the attack on the Twin Towers. Hiro's knowledge of the recovery of Hiroshima was very inspiring to us. He pointed out that, in Buddhist tradition, the seventh year after a loss is a very important point in recovery. So, reconnecting in this seventh year after 9/11 was a great experience for the three of us. After much discussion, we decided to visit Hoboken, NJ, where I used to live. Both Hiro and David had read about my life there in my book, House of Joshua: Meditations on Family and Place. On Christmas Eve we set out to see three parts of Hoboken: the light rail stop at 2nd street, the new riverside park, and Washington Street. I proposed the light rail stop because the station is surrounded by a fence that cuts off access from the housing projects. We got the light rail at the Hoboken rail station, an elegant place with historic connections to the river and the world. We had a great ride on light rail and appreciated its speed and simplicity. While you might think that you would most want poor people to be able to access public transit, that does not appear to be the case in this instance. The fence at the 2nd Street station was a shock to my friends, as I thought it would be. Indeed, I was shocked myself, seeing it again. Why not put in a gate? We got back on the light rail, thinking to go back to the rail station, but instead ended up at Newport Mall. The crowds getting on and off there made it clear that the light rail is big help in the local system of movement. Another train took us back to Hoboken, and we walked over to the riverside park which is just next door. David pointed out that the park was deserted. Although there were a lot of people out, there was not much to do by the river on a rainy day and people were staying away in droves. About this time I got a call from my daughter Molly asking if I could get some yarn for a present. She quickly googled yarn and found out there was a store on 4th Street. Hiro and David were happy to go with me. We found Patricia's Yarns easily. Its warm display of yarn and the fortuitous presence of some happy young knitters inspired us all to buy yarn. Outside, David pointed out an empty store which used to be a unisex salon, a term he dated to the 1970s. Patricia's Yarns, by contrast, was definitely Hoboken now. We walked north on Washington Street, which Molly believes to be the best place in New Jersey to do Christmas shopping. David and Hiro were happy to stop again at Big Fun Toys for more last minute purchases for my grandchildren. David got interested in the absence of war toys which led to lovely conversation with the store personnel. Hiro and David agreed that doing a bit of shopping was an excellent way to get past the facade of a town and start to feel a part of its rhythms. I have found that having lunch also helps to get a sense of Main Street wherever you are. I proposed the Elysian Cafe. the Cafe is housed in space that has been a Hoboken eatery for more than a hundred years. Lovingly restored by Joyce and Eugene Flinn, the cafe has a Paris Bistro menu and feel. It was calm by the time we got there for a late lunch. Over lunch, we talked about cities. Hiro explained to us about urbanization in Japan, which began with his parents' generation and has continued in his. Managing the farms is becoming a pressing question, he told us. David spends his summers in farming country in Ohio and had much to add ab0ut the development of ex-urbs. As our time together drew to a close, we agreed that we should meet again soon and share visits to other cities in the US and Japan. (photo: Mindy Fullilove and David Chapin walking on Washington Street, taken by Hirofumi Minami)

Did we cancel Christmas?

2008-12-17T18:46:00.000-08:00

As I have been walking up and down Main Streets, I realized that I wasn't seeing the lights and decorations that I expected. I was missing the joyful shoppers, hurrying with their arms full of packages and contented smiles on their faces. I was even missing the incessant Christmas carols oozing out of every possible auditory device. I walk past stores with their windows plastered with "Huge Sale" signs, but hardly an elf or reindeer in sight. All of this raises the critical question, "How did the Grinch get us?" I have been thinking that it's time to shake ourselves out of these doldrums. It's time to find that special, indefinable something that is the essence of Christmas, the thing deeper than cash and presents, the thing that in the face of everything will help us affirm that we will confront these times in solidarity and joy.

Whose street?

2008-12-03T14:00:00.000-08:00

"Main Street," according to Wikipedia, is a figure of speech indicating the retail and social center of neighborhood, village or city. In the American collective imagination, Main Street belongs to the city and its people. In older times, it's where the teens met at the malt shop and the farmers talked about corn prices. More recently, it's where Starbucks is or isn't, depending on your town's social status. What's important is its openness as the market center of a larger unit. In that vein, Salt Lake City has an interesting counter story. Several years ago, the city sold a block of Main Street to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, a church which is very powerful in the city and in the state of Utah. The block has become a private park, governed by the Church. Suddenly the collective thoroughfare is interrupted, and new way of organizing behavior inserted. This manifestation of the beliefs of the Church of Jesus Christ is uplifting to members but an imposition to non-members who often feel oppressed by the Church's political power. When are we entitled to access to that which flows? To take another example, in a recent decision, the Montana Supreme Court ruled that wealthy landowners could not bar their fellows from the trout-rich stream that ran through their lands. One of the landowners, Kenneth F. Siebel, was very upset. He was quoted in the NY Times as saying, "I've put time and energy and love into the property and it's all gone and it's a shame." Obviously the property was still there, and still in the improved condition to which he had brought it. What made it seem "all gone" if strangers could visit? And what about flow in cities -- should we protect the flow of Main Street the way we protect trout streams?

What will the recession do to Main Street?

2008-12-03T11:01:00.001-08:00

According to Judy Peet and Jeanette Rundquist, the 234 Main streets in New Jersey are struggling to stay afloat during the recession. With consumer buying power down, businesses are making tough adjustments to their hours and their offerings, hoping to find a formula to make ends meet. On some of the Main streets I visit the "For Rent" signs attest to businesses that have folded. Sales are everywhere. For some businesses, extending hours seems to be the way to meet the challenge. For others, it's cutting back. One shopkeeper in Boonton told the reporters, "We need to work together, but I don't see that happening." Yet cooperation is obviously a key idea. What Main streets have is a rich mix of activities and history. These can be put together in ways that energize the whole surrounding area, making it safer and more fun, at the same time maximizing the turnover of dollars in the local area. This takes imagination and a bit of thinking outside the box. A Main Street business might not think about the neighborhood two blocks over, but those neighbors are certainly thinking about Main Street. There is -- in that possible exchange -- the potential to find a solution that gets all of us through this tough recession.

Long Boulevards: Anderson Avenue

2008-11-24T12:41:00.000-08:00

Today I drove the length of Anderson Avenue, which serves as a Main Street for Fairview and Cliffside Park. It is lined by small stores and services. You can find a post office, library, barbecue spot and halal meat market along this street. It obviously serves as a center for organization for those two towns. What is surprising in driving this boulevard is that as one crosses over into Fort Lee, Anderson Avenue becomes a residential street, anchored by Fairway Market at its southern end and Main Street at the northern end. This sudden change in building type requires some explanation -- why should Anderson Avenue be a commercial corridor in Cliffside Park and then not on the other side of the "Welcome to Fort Lee" sign? On an earlier exploration, friends and I had traced Fort Lee's Main Street on its east-west course from the Palisades to Hackensack. Fort Lee grew up along Main Street, which is where its commercial center is located. Its leafy residential sections are away from the hustle and bustle of its center. Anderson Avenue, which is perpendicular to Main Street, heads south, eventually arriving at the Hudson River at Weehawken. The same logic works for Cliffside Park and Fairview that works for Fort Lee -- commerce on the main street and leafy residential streets at the edges -- but the orientation is shifted by 90 degrees. I learned while spending the summer in Paris that pathways often have their logic routed in history. I lived in small apartment on Rue Saint Andre des Arts, a street that has been the site of heavy foot traffic for about 900 years. Originally people were walking from the center of the city to the duty free market outside the city walls. The lively commerce that was started then is still located in the same place and still draws great crowds. Thus history guides our footsteps, whether we're walking the streets of Paris or exploring the major city streets of our hometowns in New Jersey.

Beautiful + What?

2008-11-22T09:29:00.000-08:00

I had the pleasure of visiting St. Louis November 14th. I wanted to visit the site of the Mill Creek Valley Urban Renewal Project, as well as the site of the Pruitt-Igoe Housing Project. I was staying at the Hilton at the Ballpark -- a delightful hotel -- and these sites were close by. I also got to see the Jefferson National Expansion Memorial, which includes the Gateway Arch. All of these places turn out to flank a downtown mall, which starts at the Old Courthouse, and ends by Union Station. What splendor! The arch is a stunning site and the museum well worth a visit. The Old Courthouse, where the Dred Scott trial took place, is one of the most important places in American history. Union Station, designed by Theodore C. Link, is a magnificent building, and a major project in adaptive reuse. And the mall is also an attraction. Yet, sadly, the magnificence is not well-used. You would think that such a charming spot would be full of people but everywhere I went, the streets were empty. There were a scattering of tourists in the park, but that was it. Jane Jacobs, the great urbanist, made the observation that parks need people. In general, she was quite skeptical about open space, seeing it as a potential rupture in the tight coherence of occupation that makes a city hum. She was decidedly opposed to the orthodox view, as propounded by the great park designer, Frederick Law Olmsted, that city people are longing for great open spaces. Evidence on the Jacobs' side: the most active place I was visited with the tiny stretch of historic waterfront, which is full of restaurants, shops and people strolling about. St. Louis has much of beauty but to make the city vibrant again, its leaders might rethink all that open space that replaced what once was its energetic urban core.

The Popular Vote

2008-11-05T07:38:00.000-08:00

A huge "VOTE" sign strung across Palisades Avenue, in Englewood, NJ, made me think, "What are the indications of the election on Main Street?" For a couple of days I've walked up down photographing what I saw. There was one sign telling the Obama canvassers that the location of their meet-up had been moved. One sign supporting Obama -- not surprising that this was to be found on the street's black barbership. One sign at Ben and Jerry's offering free ice cream to voters -- I was happy to return on Tuesday with my granddaughter, who helped me vote, and therefore had earned my free scoop. I saw one woman, dressed in a McCain/Palin shirt, who was dancing and holding up her McCain sign for passing voters. There was a sign that voting would be help at City Hall. On the whole, Main Street was a little thin of voting action. Granddaughter A'Lelia and I stopped at CVS to pick up some election party supplies and she pointed to the magazine rack. "How many pictures of John McCain do you see?" I looked more closely and realized what she was pointing out. We took this picture. I've heard of people voting with their feet, but this was voting with their magazines, a truly popular vote.

Loving Your Lot in Life

2008-11-04T10:49:00.000-08:00

I had the delightful experience of visiting Macedonia AME Church in Flushing, NY, on October 30th. This historic black church was established in 1811 and served the black community that grew up in the area. Robert Moses, the great remaker of New York City, bulldozed the area around the Church to create a parking lot, literally he "bulldozed paradise and put up a parking lot," as it says in the song. This accounts for the odd appearance of the Church, with its main door facing one of the parking lot entrances. Mrs. Beverly Riley, who had read my book, Root Shock, and who was struck by its relevance for her church, related what it's like to surrounded by a parking lot. "We had to push back church services, " she said, "because the parking lot used by people for overnight parking on Saturdays and then our congregation couldn't find parking. People would drive around for half an hour and then go home." She also pointed out that the parking lot itself was set to be transformed, this time into apartments. Oddly, as much as an ugly parking lot is something that annoys people, I know that once it is gone, it will be missed. We seem to grow used to what is, warts and all. As a social psychiatrist, I am always thinking about ways in which people could use what is around them as part of their healing. For some reason, "Garden in Transit," the project that applied flowers to NYC taxicabs came to mind. In that 4-month public art project, children and adults painted flowers on removable plastic that was placed on the hoods of taxicabs to make a movable garden in New York City. The image that came to mind was of the parking lot transformed into a flower garden by having a day of public art and painting flowers over the asphalt. It would help people understand their love/hate relationship with the parking lot, just in time to say goodbye. We don't always have that opportunity. I hated the World Trade Center, but later I regretted that I had never forgiven the Twin Towers for their boring modernism.

El Puente's New Bridge

2008-10-21T12:13:00.000-07:00

I often go to visit Main Streets outside of New Jersey. On Monday, October 20th, I had a wonderful excursion to the "City of Brooklyn," as Borough President Marty Markowitz called it. I went to see the ribbon-cutting for a new school building developed by El Puente, a community human rights organization serving Northern Brooklyn and beyond. El Puente Academy for Peace and Justice has taken over Transfiguration Grammar School, a Catholic school that had educated generations of people from the Williamsburg neighborhood. Luis Garden Acosta, who founded El Puente in 1982, welcomed a long list of people who had helped in the struggle for the new home for the school. Among them was Congresswoman Nydia Velasquez who shared that she was heading back to Washington to work on the economy. "The country is depressed and you know why. This is a dose of optimism when I really needed it." Political and community leaders rejoiced in that Transfiguration School had been given new life. NYC Councilwoman Diana Reyna, who grew up in the neighborhood, told the youth in the audience, "You are surrounded on all sides by people who want to protect and nourish you. And that is what this icon of a building is: a place to nurture children. If these walls could talk, what stories they would tell of our community." The shining faces of the Academy's students were enough to light up anybody's day. Leaving the event, I reflected back on a speech I heard Acosta give at Body and Soul, the 2008 International Urban Parks Conference in Pittsburgh. At the end of his remarks, he asked the audience to rise and join him in chanting, "The people united will never be defeated!" That ribbon-cutting was certainly a case in point.

Wall Street, Main Street, Happy 5769!

2008-10-01T08:29:00.001-07:00

The juxtaposition of "Wall Street" and "Main Street" occurs in many articles about the deep financial crisis in the US. While Wall Street has obvious connotations, I'm not sure what they mean when they say "Main Street."

What I've learned in New Jersey is that Main Street is a huge mixed bag. Take, for example, Cedar Lane in Teaneck, NJ, where I had lunch yesterday. Cedar Lane was empty, deserted. It looked like Christmas Day, it was so empty. And it sense it was: yesterday was Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year, one of the holiest days in the Jewish calendar. Many of the stores on Cedar Lane are operated by Jews and serve the large, and actively religious, Jewish community that lives in the area. I had lunch with a friend at an Indian restaurant, one of a number of ethnic restaurants that was welcoming diners. Main Street is like that: it takes on the character of the people who live nearby. At the same time, Main Street has services that reach a much larger group. I love to visit Teaneck's farmers' market which is held in one of the Cedar Lane parking lots and attracts a diverse crowd, including people who travel to distance to get great fresh vegetables, bread and other treats.

Main Street is a street. People walk up and down, they accomplish tasks, they greet neighbors, they look at the urban streetscape, they dream about possibilities. Each of these functions will be affected in different ways by the collapse of Wall Street. Main Street, at its best, is not simply the local mirror of Wall Street, but rather it's antidote. My lunch on Cedar Lane buoyed my spirits. I enjoyed the time spent with my friend. I was heartened to think it is 5769 in the Jewish calendar: people have been counting for a long time, and they've made it through worse than this.

"Happy New Year!" from Main Street.

University Course on "MainStreetNJ"

2008-09-18T17:31:00.000-07:00

Fall is in the air, and it's time to get back to Main Street! I had a great summer, visiting some wonderful places. I got to work with some of the greatest names in French city design this summer. I spent 3 weeks working on "Le Grand Paris" -- the Great Paris -- a project started by French President Nicholas Sarkozy to envision the future of Paris. For my part, I toured the cities around Paris and took hundreds of photos for a report I submitted to Michel Cantal-Dupart. Since getting back to the US, I've been to Los Angeles, Ludlow, VT, and Chicago. This weekend I'm off to Pittsburgh for the a conference on city parks. But Main Street is calling and I'm ready to get back to my appointed rounds, visiting 105 New Jersey Main Streets.

What makes visiting Main Street really great is going with friends and finding some great dining in local bistros. So I'm organizing a course through the University of Orange. I'll post the cities and the meet-up spots for all the cities I'm visiting. People interested in joining me can meet me there. We'll look around, take photos, talk to the locals and have a great lunch. The University of Orange, a free people's university, requires that you learn something in order to get your degree in freedom. So take my course -- it's going to be great!

Historic Tour of Main Street Orange

2008-06-23T19:06:00.000-07:00

Karen Wells, the unofficial historian of Orange, will be leading a tour of the historic buildings on Main Street, starting at 8 AM on Saturday, June 28th. The tour begins on the steps of the library, a building designed by McKim, Mead and White (photo). Other historic stops: the Metcalfe Building, the First Presbyterian Church, the Masonic Temple and City Hall. Orange has an excellent collection of turn-of-the-century civic architect. It is one of the assets the city hopes to use to strengthen its economic base and civic life. Karen's tour is sure to help: her love of Orange is infectious. Everything under the sun links back to Orange and she has a fact at her fingertips to prove it. Her facts are funny and impressive: whatever you know about Orange, you'll know more after a half hour with Karen!

Roses on Main Street

2008-06-17T07:42:00.000-07:00

David Jenkins, a friend of mine who is living with AIDS, told me about losing an aunt. "I took her flowers every time I visited her -- she got flowers in her lifetime," he said proudly. "Mindy, take time to stop and smell the flowers. Everywhere I go, I smell the roses." I promised I would. I had an unexpected opportunity to smell the roses on the way to a benefit for the New Jersey Institute for Social Justice. I got off the Garden State Parkway on my way to Branch Brook Park, in Newark, and I saw a big sign for Oakeside, the Bloomfield Cultural Center. I thought that would be an interesting place to visit -- as I turned the corner, I found out I was already there and I stopped to look at the garden. A heavenly smell hit me when I got out of my car. I walked all around the grounds of the magnificent Victorian house, spotting clumps of roses here and there. It was in the back of the house that I found what I was searching for -- a small formal rose garden with a luxurious scent. I stopped to enjoy it before getting back on the road. If you're passing by Bloomfield, stop for a moment to smell the roses. David will be so glad!

Main Street, Orange, back in the day

2008-05-23T19:39:00.000-07:00

I had the opportunity to visit with Karen Wells, Orange's historian. She has a collection of maps from 1914. Their generous scale, beauty and detail offered us a wealth of information. We could see the great houses that lined Main Street giving way to commercial buildings, as the estates moved to Seven Oaks, Orange's built-in suburb, which was laid out by Frederick Law Olmsted according to Karen. It was fascinating to ponder what was there and what wasn't. Her house had been built, but my childhood home on Olcott Street had not. Oakwood Avenue School was there, but Friendship House was not. Nor had the Parrow Street housing projects been built -- they didn't go up until 1951. We searched for the major churches. What we call "Orange" was once the center of a much larger area, and the great churches were centralized in the core. The churches stayed when the residential areas split off to make their own cities. Karen pointed out that a number of these historic houses of worship is equipped with a magnificent organ. We wondered what it would take to create an organ festival on Main Street?

A River Runs Through It

2008-05-22T20:43:00.000-07:00

Main Street in Hackensack is pointedly urban. I hadn't thought much about its river connection until I had the opportunity to get a bird's eye from a friend's apartment. From the eighth floor of a Main Street apartment building with a panoramic view, I could see the river's curves and grassy banks define a terrain just east of center city. The contrasting parts of the city -- waterway and street -- had a pleasing harmony in the midst of a jumble of stuff: the NY skyline, steam from a factory of some kind, and the odd patchwork of the Hackensack's urbanism. My friend said they had taken the apartment for the joy of the view. "One night there was a full moon reflecting off the river -- it was so beautiful, but we hadn't seen that before."

Main Street Grits

2008-04-14T11:36:00.000-07:00

On Main Street, in Bogota, Lillie Pearl's Comfort Food beckons with a neon sign that blinks, "Coffee." The sign caught my eye as I left the post office -- which is the friendliest one I've ever visited -- and stood scanning the street for my coffee options. On my first visit, I had a very fine cup of coffee and I got macaroni and cheese, barbecued chicken and yams to go. All high on anyone's comfort list, and all were highly rated by my family. I got to meet Lillie Pearl, for whom the restaurant is named, as well as Annette Coleman, the owner, who said as I was leaving, "Be sure to come for breakfast!" My husband Bob is a fan of soul breakfast so we were back the next morning for grits and eggs. "I had the same breakfast in Nashville, two weeks ago," Bob said. "This was just as good, and maybe the grits were better -- creamier and more buttery." You don't always think "Bogota -- I'll to go to Bogota and get some great soul food" but it's there!

Who's Got the Best Program? Orange Picks a Mayor

2008-04-01T17:26:00.000-07:00

Ben Jones, first African American councilman of Orange, NJ, welcomed fellow residents to a Mayoral Forum on March 29th. Ben was all smiles as he admired Patrick Morrissy's historic campaign button that read "Win with Ben." People were gathered to meet five of six very impressive candidates for Mayor. The city- one of the Main Street towns I'll be following closely - was rocked by scandal in September 2007 when Mayor Mims Hackett was arrested on bribery charges. Much is riding on the selection of a strong, honest leader. I had the honor of moderating the forum which was held at the Appian Way. The Forum was sponsored by Citizens for Responsible Government, CRG. CRG is a newly reconstituted group, drawing on the leadership of an older CRG: Citizens for Representative Government. The earlier CRG was founded in 1958 to lead the struggle black representation and to improve the city. My father, Ernest Thompson, was one of its founders. He told the story of this effort in his book, Homeboy Came to Orange: A Story of People's Power. One of CRG's early accomplishments was to lay out a 7-point plan for making a better city. That plan addressed: 1) redevelopment and relocation, 2) unemployment, 3) freeway (Route 280 which then on the drawing boards and now runs through the middle of town), 4) school system, 5) civil rights, 6) recreation and juvenile delinquency, and 7)representative government. Citizens for Responsible Government used this outline to pose questions to 5 of the 6 citizens running for office. The candidates were articulate and serious. They gave very thoughtful answers. The questions addressed different areas of concern, taking the listeners through the key issues of running a city honestly and effectively. The lively, engaged audience paid keen attention -- you could have heard a pin drop for most of the two hour meeting. The Appian Way is a remarkably welcoming site. CRG is to be congratulated for organizing a meeting that helped us all understand how a city is governed while learning about the strategies that the candidates would use. It was a serious day that ended with great hope for the future of the city.

From St Patrick to Paterson: A NJ Drive

2008-04-01T05:54:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, March 9th, Molly Kaufman, my daughter, and A'Lelia Johnson, my granddaughter and Molly's niece, went to West Orange to see the St. Patrick's Day Parade on Main Street. It was a fine parade with lovely pipe and drum bands from all over the state, parade organizers in convertibles, and a lively audience that appreciated the fine day and good music. Just off Main Street, on Park Avenue, we passed a playground and A'Lelia, 12, insisted we play for a while. The park has an outstanding 4 person seesaw. A little boy joined us and we four bounced up and down in zigzaggy patterns. Though we outweighed our little friend by several hundred pounds, he held on tightly, proving he has the talent for a career in horse racing. We had planned to go straight back to Englewood but that seemed too tame for such a fine day. After considering many ideas, we settled on driving back on the streets rather than the highways. There is no road that goes straight from West Orange to Englewood -- probably why they built the highways. The roads stay out of the Meadowlands and follow the course of the Passaic River, which lies between the two cities. In no time at all, we found ourselves in Paterson. The southern part of Main Street, Paterson, is a middle Eastern neighborhood. We stopped for coffee and Turkish pastries at Saray Bakery. We strolled down the street to Fattal's Market, where we stocked up on their freshly baked pita, and delicious platters of hummus, baba ganoush, olives and stuffed grape leaves.

If you're in Paterson, you have to visit the The Great Falls, so we drove to the center of the city to see the second largest waterfall in the Northeast, after Niagara Falls. Paterson was an early center of American industry because of the power provided by the Falls. Alexander Hamilton, one of the founders of the nation, saw the potential of the area and organized its early development -- he's honored by a statue in the park around the Falls. He made the point that the US should reduce its dependence on foreign products -- proving that what goes around comes around. The roar of the Falls makes it clear how much power is involved in good-sized river suddenly dropping 77 feet. Though it was a clear bright day, the water was cold and the spray had frozen in places around the viewing zone. We were thrilled by the mist and the noise and the icicles.

A moving story

2008-03-24T11:00:00.001-07:00

Last week I moved out of my office of 18 years. This required packing up books, papers, tapes, maps, photographs and all the detritus that can accumulate in a research office over that long a period of time. The hat I got in Detroit, while visiting their Halloween night anti-arson activities. The voodoo doll magnet meant to fend off hostility. The dirt, air, water and light people have brought back as presents from cities around the world. Water from Lourdes has to move as it might come in handy one day. Dirt from Centre and Kirkpatrick in Pittsburgh has to go, because that's the center of the universe. At a certain point, everything goes into a box to get sorted later. The move is a learning experience, too. Our offices were being relocated because of gentrification in the neighborhood. We learn that the men that are moving us are also affected by gentrification, but their company is going out of business, and they are losing their jobs. One of the men who was helping us had been with the company for 37 years and was being turned out without severance pay or any other financial consideration. These forces are affecting Main Street, though the pace of change will likely be slowed by the economic downturn. While it's on pause, we have a moment to think about the future and to ponder how we shape new investment to promote stability and continuity, not simply upheaval and displacement.

What Main Street Maplewood Has (and 57th St Doesn't!)

2008-03-05T16:15:00.000-08:00

Main Street Maplewood is an irregular 3 block stretch that lies in the embrace of the train station and its parking. This tight, useful conjunction of city services and public transit is humming with people. I visited in the middle of the day, when many of the visitors were pre-schoolers out for some urbanization. In addition to good eats, there was a supermarket, movie theater, post office, and bank for taking care of business, a candy store for odds and ends, and some interesting spots for shopping. One might say Maplewood designed its Main Street for its own convenience. It is not on a major road, the way Main Street Bogota is. Rather, the voyager has to follow the signs from Valley Road in order to get there. Tucked away as it is, it is an insiders' locus of transactions. It is a crossroads of a pleasant town, and it serves as a place of exchange. This is highlighted by the many, many messages people have put up for each other. I was struck by the town bulletin board, which was covered with colorful and informative leaflets. But I also noticed lots of posters and leaflets in the windows of the stores. The people of Maplewood are in conversation with each other, using the windows of Main Street as a tool of communication. So what about 57th Street in Manhattan? A wonderful street in its own right, but not one community bulletin board that I could spot...

Main Street Trip to Fort Lee, Bogota, and Hackensack

2008-02-26T12:58:00.001-08:00

A Post by Laura Gabby

While there is much that could be written on each of the main streets we visited in New Jersey on February 21, 2008, a few major points stood out to me. Bogota, which had the smallest stretch of “main street,” struck me as very similar to a neighborhood that I lived near in Spokane, WA called Browne’s Addition. Browne’s Addition was originally the most elegant, expensive neighborhood to live in and had all of the huge Victorian houses. However, throughout the 1970’s, 80’s, and 90’s, buildings began to be abandoned and burned down. Additionally, much of the nearby downtown area emptied out with the opening of a huge mall on the north side of Spokane. The area became associated with drugs and violence and most of the remaining housing became overcrowded. Even so, it still had the most beautiful houses in the entire city and my mother and I would occasionally wander up and down the streets looking at houses and end at the Elk, a soda fountain that had the most original drinks in town. The houses near Bogota seemed similar to me – old beautiful houses, some of which were in use and well maintained but a few beginning to see some damage and one boarded up because of a fire. The nicest house we saw in Bogota had a yard filled with artwork and pottery, however, the statue that was the most intriguing to me was hidden in the backyard behind a row of bushes. It was a statue of multi-colored people holding hands facing outward in a circle, and it seemed like something that would be beautiful in an open space such as a park.

The other major thing that stood out to me was a seeming trend between the three towns. Fort Lee, the town that was closest to Manhattan, seemed to be the most “full” in the area surrounding main street. Stores filled up all of the space on main street and lots of areas nearby and large housing high-rises were very close by. However, there seemed to be only a small and seemingly disappearing thread to the town’s past, as many of the stores were new and there was only a small area where houses hadn’t been replaced with high-rise buildings. The next town over, Bogota, did not have the large high-rise buildings and similarly had fewer stores that looked brand new. It seemed to have a stronger thread to the town’s past, as many older homes surrounded main street. However, it seemed to be suffering from more abandonment than Fort Lee, as some storefronts along main street were not occupied and a home at the end of main street was boarded up from a fire. Finally, Hackensack felt the least “full.” High-rise buildings were away from the main street and the area surrounding the main street was almost completely emptied out for parking lots. It seemed very difficult to tell what might have been there before, as no older homes were left surrounding main street. The main street itself seemed to be the most diverse mix of old and new and multiple uses. However, it seemed clear that a lot of the older stores were on their way out while a lot of the newer stores seemed to be prospering. This didn’t seem surprising, as it is hard to imagine where the original Hackensack residents, who lived in the houses that were replaced by parking lots, now live. So the general trends seemed to be increasing density as you moved towards Manhattan and increasing gentrification as you moved toward Manhattan, with the exception of Bogota, which seems to be an exception because it was not carved out by urban renewal for high rise apartments to go in.