A Tale of Two Existences

Between recent comments here on the blog and the URBANEXUS gathering downtown recently, it has been striking how vehemently people feel about the urban vs. suburban existence. The vitriol is mostly one-sided, the urbanists against the suburbanites. To most suburbanites, there is little passion for that fight because the city is basically irrelevant to them. Suburbanites tend to fall into three main groups: they have lived in the city at one point and subsequently chosen a suburban path; they enjoy visiting city amenities but don’t want to live there; or it never appealed to them. So what lies behind this divide?

If urbanists disdain the suburbs and speak arrogantly toward those who live there, where is the fuel? I would suggest it is, at heart, anger. The suburbs represent everything they hate: sameness, conformity, uniformity, and detachment or entrenchment from the world at large. But aren’t these all illusions? Aren’t they just as conformist to an urban identity and shared disdain for the suburbs? Aren’t both cities and suburbs created landscapes representative of their times? Aren’t as many people isolated and detached from the world in their urban condos and apartments as the folks who inhabit split-levels, ranch houses and huge suburban great rooms? Is one really better than another? Or are they neither better or worse, just different?

I am the most unlikely defender of the suburbs. I have hated them most of my adult life. I grew up in a small town, 100 miles from any large city, and I didn’t really experience city life until after college when I started my career in Peoria, then Chicago. I lived on the Chicago’s north side, in Lincoln Park before it became ultra chic. Then I moved to Seattle in the Queen Anne neighborhood. I spent my vacations in cities visiting friends in New York, LA, San Francisco and Boston. Nothing else appealed to me and I was horrified by friends and relatives as they abandoned the cities for the suburbs. Not me, not ever, I said.

So here I am, in Maryland Heights, and (gasp) I enjoy it. It’s a second-ring suburb so it’s grown-up, it’s mature, it has huge trees and sidewalks. Its houses were built in the peak era of the rise of middle class. Large enough to be comfortable, but small enough to be considered now as modest in comparison to much larger, new suburban homes and mega mansions. The lawns aren’t huge, the neighborhood is extremely walkable for exercise and recreation, and the energy footprint is modest like the houses.

I have a garden and enjoy yard work after years of container gardening on porches and balconies. I have a giant sweet-gum tree in my front yard and love raking leaves. I know my neighbors. My sister and her family live less than a mile away. My mother lives with me. It is easy to get around and run errands, pick up library books, and every night, for the first time in my life, I park my car in an enclosed garage. I no longer have to get up early to scrape the ice from my windows, shovel myself out of street parking, or get soaked in the pouring rain before I’ve ever left home.

Located smack in the middle of I-270, I-70 and Page Avenue, I can get to the airport in under 15 minutes (important when I commuted weekly to Seattle for my job) and there’s almost no place in the metropolitan area that I can’t get to in about 20 minutes or less. I have fresh, locally grown food available at Thies Farm and the many charms of Creve Coeur Park are less than a mile from my house.

My city is small enough that I can easily attend meetings and interact with city government. I know the people who run my city and I can work both with them and in opposition to them to build a better city with a sustainable future. I have easily met others and formed a residents’ group that will continue to educate and inform the political process.

Maryland Heights is also auto-centric, lacks a town center and informal gathering places, and, like every other place on earth, is sometimes boring. So I think it comes down to this: time of life and love. Our decisions about where to live are not abstract concepts. They are practical and they come with a constellation of considerations, many beyond our control, and many of them related to love.

We fall in love with someone who already owns a house in the suburbs or we move to have a vastly shorter commute to our suburban employer. We move to the suburbs of St. Louis because our toddler will soon be in school and we believe in the value of public-school education, but not in the St. Louis city schools. Our parents grow old and need help and comfort in their old age. They move in with us, into a single-story ranch house with an attached garage, and easy access to medical facilities and grocery stores. We can simply be ready for a change of pace: ready to garden in our own yard, to participate in civic activities, and take care of our extended families while we still have them.

Time is precious. I wouldn’t trade my 25 years as a fervent urbanist for anything. It was the absolute right thing for me. I have come to love my life in the suburbs in service to those I hold most dear. There will be other chapters in my life and I will, doubtless, live other places, including the heart of a great city.

I wish I had been more thoughtful, and less shrill, about my choices when I was younger. I wish I could have been more confident in my own choices without thinking everyone had to feel the same way. I wish I had known more about the value of family ties and the difference between sacrifice and a loving sacrifice. I wish I had been kinder to my friends who married and left for the suburbs.

One of the great gifts of age is a truer appreciation of diversity and how we all make choices for love. My neighborhood is as integrated as my neighborhood in the city, maybe more so, because of all the nationalities that live near me. But it isn’t race that makes us diverse, it’s all the stories of how they came to be here, the choices they made for love, and why this is only one chapter of a long and varied life.

-Deborah Moulton

City to Pedestrians: Don’t Cross Locust at 9th

The new Culinaria grocery store on 9th between Olive and Locust has helped to dramatically increase the number of pedestrians in the area near the store.  A friend of mine pointed out something that I and many others hadn’t noticed at 9th & Locust (map).

When crossing Locust on the West side of 9th Street signs indicate that pedestrians should not continue straight ahead — they should use the crosswalk on the East side of 9th.  The pedestrian above is crossing Locust while the light is green.  The “use crosswalk” sign is seen on the right.  No pedestrian signal exists, but many intersections downtown are missing such signals.

Note that the crosswalk stripes on the pavement have been covered over.  So while the other side of the street is close enough to toss a quarter across the street the city doesn’t want you to cross here.  Instead they want you to cross 9th twice as well as Locust.  But why?

During the construction of the Roberts Tower has 8th Street closed between St. Charles St & Locust.  Before then 9th Street was a one-way street Northbound.  But with Southbound 8th closed part of 9th was changed to 2-way traffic.  Before Culinaria opened 9th was 2-way up to Olive with traffic directed left on Olive (one-way Eastbound).  But the two-way traffic was pushed back one block from Olive back to Locust.  That meant Southbound traffic on 9th had to turn right at Locust, as the above signs indicate.  The city took the lazy way out — giving drivers a right arrow and telling pedestrians that is not a valid crosswalk.

But person after person crosses at this non-crosswalk.

Most, but not all, wait for a green light:

The person above, crossing Locust walking Northbound, is going against the light.  When the light turned green the couple with the stroller crossed as well.  In fact, all that I observed crossed at this non-crosswalk.  It is natural to cross at this point.

The city, I guess, put up the signs and covered the crosswalk stripes to reduce their liability in the event a right turning car from 9th onto Locust injures or kills a pedestrian.  A cover your ass action.  Except that a person with visual impairments is not going to see the signs.  Their white cane or guide dog will read this as a conventional intersection.  The solution in this case, to meet the ADA is to place a physical barrier that would be detected by cane.  A guide dog would know not to cross to the other side.

But the real solution is to give pedestrians the right of way.  Remove the right arrow from the traffic signal and use right arrows on the pavement so that motorists know they must turn right to avoid oncoming traffic.  Signs cautioning drivers to yield to pedestrians in the crosswalk would be good although my observation was that motorists were doing this anyway.

For the record using the East side of 9th coming from or going to Washington Ave is not an option.

Just a short block from Locust you can see that the above corner lacks a curb cut. The city needs to be more concerned about the flow of pedestrians.

– Steve Patterson

Downtown St. Louis has a Circulator Bus Route, Metro Routes on Google

I missed the news about this line when some bus routes were temporarily restored but as part of Metro’s Partial Service Restoration Plan includes a circulator bus downtown.

The route does a loop through the central business district along 4th & Broadway as well as a stretch both ways along Washington Ave.  At Tucker it drops down to make a stop at the Civic Center transit center (bus, light rail, Greyhound, Amtrak). Frequency ranges from 10-20 minutes depending upon the day of the week and the time of day.  During normal working hours the buses run every 10 minutes.  The route takes riders past two MetroLink light rail stations.

The other big news is Metro routes are now available for viewing on Google Maps!  The default setting is by car but you can request routes by foot or by transit.  I’ve tested a few trips and it did a great job and included departure times for both bus and light rail trains.  From my downtown loft to The Tivoli theater on Delmar it gave me three route choices — one bus and two light rail.  The bus is the most direct and includes the least walking, I can see the stop where I’d board from my balcony.

For more info on routes and schedules see http://MetroSTL.org.

– Steve Patterson

Readers Split Between Soccer and Basketball

A recent poll on this site asked readers which professional sports league, if any, should be next for St. Louis.  We currently have professional football (Rams), hockey (Blues) and, of course, baseball (Cardinals). Of the “major” leagues we lack only basketball (NBA).  Other leagues we do not have are women’s basketball (WNBA), soccer (MLS), and arena football (AFL).    Note, the AFL is currently suspended amid financial difficulties.

Women’s basketball, arena football and lacrosse received zero votes giving none of the above/who cares the 3rd place spot (17 votes) behind basketball (50) and soccer (52).  Single write-in votes included rugby, “foxy boxing” and an American League MLB franchise.  During the week basketball & soccer were neck and neck, with soccer usually in the lead.

While I’ve enjoyed the handful of Cardinals games I’ve attended over the last 19 years, I’m not a sports fan.  I’ve never attended a football game (except 1-2 during high school), hockey, soccer or basketball.  Of these, only soccer has me interested in personally attending a match.  I’ve watched the Cardinals on TV during the World Series but never during the regular season.

Prior to 1966 St. Louis’ major sports were played outside of downtown.  Baseball & football were played at Sportsman’s Park at Grand & Dodier (map) and hockey was played at The Arena on Oakland Ave.   The idea of constructing downtown stadiums was conceived across the country as a strategy to keep downtown’s occupied. Along the same lines, cultural institutions were also consolidated in many cities.  St. Louis bucked the trend in the late 1960s when the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra renovated a 1925 movie theater in midtown, the St. Louis Theater.   The Symphony left downtown’s Kiel Opera House for their new renovated digs in midtown.  In November 2005 I quoted architectural critic Ada Louise Huxtable:

The success of Powell Symphony Hall in St. Louis is probably going to lead a lot of people to a lot of wrong conclusions. In a kind of architectural Gresham’s law, the right thing wrongly interpreted usually has more bad than good results. The first wrong conclusion is that Powell Hall represents the triumph of traditional over modern architecture. False. The correct conclusion here is that a good old building is better than a bad new one. Powell Hall represents the triumph simply of suitable preservation. And, one might add, of rare good sense.

But good sense went out the window in cities all over the country, including St. Louis.  Many good old buildings were replaced with bad new buildings, including concert halls and stadiums.

We have Bush Stadium III for baseball and Scottrade Center for hockey as well as any basketball team we may attract.  The size, location and design of these facilities works fairly well within the downtown context.  Busch holds 45,000 more or less and Scottrade seats up to 23,000 depending upon configuration.

As contributor Jim Zavist indicated in his post introducing the poll, we need to face the fact the Rams NFL team is for sale and it may not remain in St. Louis.  I feel that baseball & hockey/basketball are suitable in downtown, but NFL football is not.

The Dallas Cowboy’s new suburban stadium has a capacity of  80,000 and will hold over 100,000 with standing areas.  Saint Louis University’s Chaifetz Arena seats 10,600.   The scale required for NFL is out of place in a walkable context like downtown.

Soccer, like baseball, is on a smaller scale than football.  The new soccer-specific stadium for the New York Red Bulls, being built in New Jersey, will seat 25,000, a quarter of the new Cowboys stadium. For those that like basketball & soccer, check out games at SLU.

The Edwards Jones Dome downtown (capacity 67,000) where the Rams play looks like an outdated dark closet compared to the new Cowboys stadium with its glass walls and retractable roof.  I can see the implosion of the Edward Jones Dome within the next 20 years.  If we retain the Rams in the St. Louis region their new facility needs to be built out on the fringe surrounded by a big parking lot for the fans that tailgate.  Closer in sites include dying malls like Northwest Plaza.   But no site downtown or the city is big enough to be handed over year round for 8-10 games per year.

I think I get part of the appeal of downtown stadiums; for many it is the only time they leave suburbia and come downtown.  Build the stadium on the edge and they’ll never get a chance to leave their miserable environment to experience downtown life, unless they make it to a Cardinals or Blues game.  Best yet is to forget the games and come downtown, have lunch and do some shopping.

I don’t care about the Rams, I want the E.J. Dome gone from my downtown.

– Steve Patterson

Elevated Highway Separates Convention Center from Laclede’s Landing

Myself and others are calling for the removal of the highway lanes that cut through downtown, dividing the CBD & loft district on the West from the Arch grounds, Laclede’s Landing and Mississippi River to the East.  Too often the discussion about solving the division problem presented by the highway focuses on just three blocks at the center point of the Arch.

The other day I set out in my wheelchair to document just how bad a barrier the elevated lanes are North of Washington Ave.

The view above is looking East at the historic Eads Bridge.    More people would use this bridge if they could actually see it.  Heading into St. Louis from Illinois visitors see the other side of this overpass.  It doesn’t exactly say welcome.  As Washington Ave matures this is the point where we connect restaurants to the riverfront.

Turn to the South and you see the Arch and the barriers to getting there.

Looking North you get a glimpse of Laclede’s Landing hidden beyond the elevated highway.

At the end of Delmar/Convention Plaza you can see Morgan Street coming uphill in the Laclede’s Landing area.

Now on the East side of the highway you can barely see the Edward Jones Dome through the space under the highway.

Down the hill you find diners out on 3rd Street.

Heading back up hill I saw a group of conventioneers looking for lunch.

Continuing up the hill I was confronted with the elevated highway again, quickly killing the historic scale of the old cobblestone streets.

The conventioneers I saw exited the convention center, not on Washington Ave, but out of the side exit at 7th/Delmar/Convention Plaza in the upper left corner of the above map.  They headed directly toward the river.  We are not showing our visitors the best we have to offer.  Connecting the convention center with Laclede’s Landing would be a huge win for St. Louis.