Big plans for little neighborhoods

A case for `new urbanism' in Worcester's languishing neighborhoods. It's time for city officials to think small.

by Leon Nigrosh

Local architect John Wadsworth surveys the intersection of Madison and Main streets, a place where fast-moving traffic snubs pedestrians who must navigate wide, unfriendly thoroughfares. Non-descript facades shield once-handsome structures; empty storefronts, vacant lots, and decayed yet grand buildings make this corner perhaps the dimmest, grayest section of downtown. Though it remains the supposed divider between south and north Main Street, and one of the busiest intersections in Worcester, you'd hardly notice its potential as you speed by. But Wadsworth, known citywide for his preservation work, has only to examine the Burwick building to kindle a sense of hope. For the long-vacant furniture store, which the Mayor's Office recently identified as the cornerstone for an arts district initiative, is of such perfect scale it could, Wadsworth says, transform this suffering business strip into what city planners and neighborhood activists have wanted for years: a destination.

On this particular summer afternoon, Wadsworth stands opposite the 110-year-old Burwick in the company of two writers who've asked him to access the building's potential for loft, retail, and performance space. Preserve the windows, widen the sidewalks, plant trees, he ticks off. But most important, Wadsworth offers, take advantage of the beautiful structure, an attractive gingerbread-colored building, which even last year faced demolition when a combination McDonalds and gas station was proposed (ultimately, the plan was rejected). "If you incorporate some of that detailing," he says, comparing the four-stories that sit atop the stucco, street-level facade, "you'd have a totally different feel."

In fact, Wadsworth says as he motions to several nearby buildings, "there's a lot going on here." By a lot, Wadsworth means the former White Tower hamburger parlor and the nearby liquor store. ("I'd never get rid of those; I'd bring them back to what they were.") Across the street there's Worcester Market, one of the city's most ornate buildings, which also stood to be ripped down, in 1983, to make way for a parking lot. And there are more: the rehabilitated Aurora Hotel, the art deco Caravan Coffee building, the vacant International Order of Odd Fellows, the empty K-Mart, and, around the corner, the Ionic Avenue Boys Club.

"There's really a sense that we can maintain something here," Wadsworth says. "But that's not going to happen unless we start to realize what we have and account for it and save it."

Indeed, there's so much architectural and planning potential at Madison and Main that Worcester has the opportunity to recreate a downtown neighborhood. Recreate it, that is, without relying on the massive projects that have displaced businesses, destroyed existing historic buildings, and required so much public financing city coffers have barely benefited from added tax revenue.

That the Burwick has been picked by City Hall as the spot where local artists will be granted potential tax breaks and reduced rents (similar to projects undertaken nationwide) has attracted overwhelming support here. Most people, in fact, consider it a done deal, particularly after Community Builders Inc., which owns and refurbished the Aurora Hotel, negotiated an option to purchase the store in July. The non-profit is expected to ask for modest, public financial backing soon. And many artists, and small arts-related business owners, are already talking about relocating their homes, workplaces, or studios to Main South.

Now the real work, as architects like Wadsworth see it, is to come. For Worcester has every opportunity to practice a bit of "urban husbandry" -- coined "new urbanism" by others -- the popular (elsewhere), albeit commonsense, planning approach to rehabilitating suffering downtowns that are so in jeopardy that this June the National Trust for Historic Preservation named America's "Main Street" the most endangered site in the country. By looking at sections of neighborhoods, rather than a building-by-building approach, city officials can develop a viable plan -- which should include revamped zoning, rehabilitated buildings, improved street lighting, and logical traffic-flow solutions -- to encourage people to return to inner cities where they will work, shop, and live. In essence, Main Street needs to become a place where people feel safe enough to walk after five o'clock.

"What makes places like San Fransico and Boston so nice to visit [is that] they're of a scale that is sensitive to people," Wadsworth says. "And that's what's very exciting about the Burwick as a place to start. It's of a scale that's not intimidating. . . . You know, it's so close to City Hall, too, it reinforces what could happen here."

But why stop at the Burwick building? If City Hall can successfully transform that neighborhood, why not consider others that also suffer from neglect? Other sections of the city -- namely, Providence Street, Quinsigamond Village, and in and around May Street -- include architecturally significant buildings that distinguish Worcester. With thoughtful preservation -- and with support of the city's Office of Planning and Community Development (seemingly set to stick to large projects, if Chief Development Officer Everett Shaw's development agenda, made public in February, is any indication) -- neighborhoods could once again be considered destinations where local business and residents would flock. But any effort should focus on Worcester's architectural strengths.

It's not as if preservation is an alien term here. For years, folks have bemoaned the disintegration of Main Street's 19th-century structures so less-than-attractive (okay, butt-ugly) office space or, perhaps worse, empty parcels could flourish. Among the numerous commercial buildings, homes, cafes, and restaurants destroyed to make way for the white elephant called Worcester Common Outlets (which itself continues to struggle with vacancies), five -- count 'em -- five hotels, including the Commonwealth Hotel (built in 1890) were flattened. Several buildings, which weren't crushed to dust, suffered from "modernization." Such is the case of the Home Federal Savings -- the woebegone building across from, coincidentally enough, the Worcester Historical Commission (WHC) -- which now distinguishes itself by its large toilet-paper-tube facade. Sadly, those hideous, inexplicable cement rolls can't be removed without revealing the damage to the original 1893 Classical Revival structure.

When word surfaced nearly 30 years ago that Mechanics Hall, built in 1855, was to be razed to create a parking lot, a citizens group collected enough money to save the fine example of Italian Renaissance Revival. One imaginative fundraising scheme included the sale of bottled dust gathered from behind the 1864 Hook pipe organ. Eventually, the entire building was rehabilitated; the cast-iron and mastic-covered brick facade, the magnificent stairways, and the Great Hall were restored to their elegance and, at the same time, updated. Today, Mechanics Hall is one of the area's premiere concert halls.

But those success stories have remained fewer in number than one would hope. Harrington & Richardson, a Park Avenue weapons manufacturing company since 1888, was ripped down and eventually replaced by a Walgreens. AT&T, on North Main Street, replaced an adorable, European-style, two-story stretch of shops. In fact, on Main Street, once dominated by French Second Empire architecture, only six such buildings remain, according to Preservation Worcester, a non-profit that tracks the city's historical sites.

And if any one structure's demolition brought the need for preservation into the fore it was the Flagg's Building (torn down for a parking lot in May 1996), one of Worcester's few remaining examples of Italianate architectural design that graced downtown during its 1800s industrial expansion. Too late was it discovered that this Main Street building was listed on the National Register of Historic Places (NRHP), thus deserving certain considerations before "work" of any sort was carried out. The owner, Barry Krock, is the same man who thoughtfully offered up his Commerce Bank Building, just down the street and an example of French Second Empire, as a site for a proposed Worcester courthouse complex whose construction plans have yet to be finalized.

Soon after the Flagg's demise, and in June 1997, City Council passed a "demolition delay" ordinance, and since, no one can demolish any designated historical building without first applying for permission from WHC, the city agency that oversees historical buildings. In two years, more than 300 requests have been filed, only 15 of which triggered a full study. Unfortunately, with no substantial budget and with little commitment from the city, the WHC can still act only in an advisory position.

But the timing is right in Worcester to do more. With a coalition formed (or at least sanctioned) by City Hall, government agencies, non-profit organizations, developers, and citizens groups can initiate full-scale efforts to restore and reclaim buildings. Such a coalition, instead of working at cross-purposes, could establish a plan to rejuvenate entire segments of the city.

And it's not without precedent. In Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, starting in 1964, the city offered to sell abandoned houses to qualified buyers for as little as $100. If the property owners agreed to maintain their building for 20 years, the city agreed to restore the facade. The city also offered free plans and supervision for the rehabilitation work, and even made low-interest loans (at a three-percent interest rate) available. With a $500,000 investment, Pittsburgh generated more than $3 million in private rehabilitation funds. Even more impressive is the fact that the rejuvenated buildings attracted new residents and revitalized an entire neighborhood.

Just recently, in Worcester, a small-scale, similar experiment was undertaken. A coalition of non-profits and citizens groups (Preservation Worcester, Worcester Community Housing Resources, and the Crown Hill Neighborhood Association) received a matching grant from the state and a loan from Flagship Bank to restore 7 Crown Street.

The building, the former Ezra Sawyer home, an 1850s Greek Revival house, is registered on the NRHP and had been designated by Preservation Worcester as one of Worcester's 10 Most Endangered Properties. After the city seized the building, it sat idle for several years, beginning to disintegrate. Once again, the wrecker's ball was to be used, creating an unsightly gap in a neighborhood that residents have desperately -- and at a grassroots level -- tried to revitalize. Fortunately, a few cooler heads at the Office of Planning and Community Development (OPCD) decided to hold off on the imminent demolition, thus allowing the coalition to organize the fundraising effort.

And that's where architect John Wadsworth came in. For more than 20 years he's been bringing Worcester's architectural history back to life. It was Wadsworth's firm, Wadsworth & Associates, that turned the cavernous Horticultural Hall into the comfortable home of the Worcester Historical Museum on Elm Street. He was also instrumental in the renovations at Mechanics Hall, creating a contemporary facade compatible with the original surroundings.

At 7 Crown Street, Wadsworth's firm designed the restoration of the building's shell. Within the building, plans called for the preservation of existing flooring, woodwork, and an identical period staircase was installed.

PW's executive director Jim Igoe says the fully restored house will be available to interested buyers at market rate. "We're not looking to make a profit on this one, it's more of a philosophical win. We want the city to have more trust in us."

Elsewhere, in the US, preservation groups and civic organizations have played a substantial role in jump-starting languishing neighborhoods. In 1988, in Denver, Colorado, for example, the crumbling Lower Downtown district was infused with $2 million in city-funded streetscape improvements, opening the door for investors and retailers to move in. And it worked: the area's vacancy rate, which hovered near 40 percent in 1988, dropped to 10 percent by 1995. More than 55 restaurants and clubs, 30 galleries, and 650 new residential units now make Lower Downtown one of Denver's most popular attractions.

Closer to home, Lowell has used federal dollars in its National Parks area, which has led to more shops, businesses, and job opportunities. From 1975 the unemployment rate there has dropped from 13 percent to four percent.

And the results weren't achieved without cooperation from City Halls, which elsewhere have offered low-cost loans to owner-occupants; sidewalk, street, and drainage repairs; tree-planting efforts (in Worcester, trees have been decimated in the past 10 years); and tax-allocation bonds. Instead of spending $15 million to construct a new airport that no one uses, City Hall should have put its money into already existing buildings.

It's up to City Hall to establish an agenda that includes the neighborhoods where improved urban planning could go a long way in their restoration. We suggest several: not only the intersection of Main and Madison streets, but also the Oak Hill area, the May Street district, and Quinsigamond Village. Each boasts a unique architectural style, individual ethnic identity, and strong residential base where people could conceivably walk to work, shop, and socialize without getting into their cars.

Target one: Oak Hill

When folks think of Worcester, naturally, they consider its three-deckers, one of the most prevalent forms of housing here. And there's no better place to view the tenement-style architecture than on the east side of town, in Oak Hill, particularly on Providence Street. Primarily Colonial Revival in style, more than 100 three-deckers were designed by local architects and built from 1910 to 1930 to house the growing Irish immigrant population, most of which was employed to dig the Blackstone Canal. A large number of Oak Hill's three-story structures are on the NRHP. The nearby Providence Street firehouse (also on the NRHP) was recently restored to its classic Beaux Arts character, and should serve as the anchor and stimulus for a wholesale restoration project for all the three-deckers in the area.

Jim Cruickshank, executive director of the Oak Hill Community Development Corporation (CDC), wants to "stabilize our neighborhood and allow it to re-bloom." He says that the major difficulty in trying to rejuvenate this once-thriving area is the fact that only 26.6 percent of the homes are owner-occupied (very low, considering nearly 50 percent of the city's housing is owner-occupied). Because absentee landlords don't live in the neighborhood, unfortunately, Cruickshank says, they don't have the same level of interest in community affairs. Also, Oak Hill has one of the higher renter-turnover rates in the city, primarily because rents are more expensive here than in other Worcester neighborhoods.

What the homes in and around Providence Street chiefly need is exterior repairs: paint and stain applications mostly. And there are those that require the removal of absurdly artificial asbestos-board, vinyl, and aluminum siding that should be refaced with wooden shingles or clapboard. The Oak Hill CDC works hard to get funding from shrinking federal and state resources to finance lead-paint removal and to bring individual houses up to code. But again, this work is all piecemeal and the CDC has to write a new grant for each proposal. Cruickshank raises a very important point when he says, "If I could have one wish, funds would be easier to come by, we wouldn't have to compete and take money from somebody else's pocket."

Target two: May Street

The May Street district, which runs from Park Avenue to Main Street, contains historically significant homes, many of which are NRHP designated and are excellent examples of the Queen Anne style and Victorian dwellings. The most prestigious edifice of this group is the building at 33 May Street. It was built in 1873 by developer Ebenezer Abbott in the Second Empire style, ostensibly to attract prospective home buyers to the area. Originally two-stories high, a third floor was added in 1891 when the residence became the Abbott Home School for Girls. Today, much of the first floor is covered in plywood, installed to protect the house from further vandalism, though it continues to serve as window-deprived rental property.

Along May Street other homes feature distinctive porches and detailed trim blunted by deplorably unaesthetic vinyl and aluminum siding -- which not only mask the homes' beauty, but also trap moisture, hide damage by rot or insects, and fade in color with time.

Just behind this cluster of houses lies the domain of Clark University and its University Park Partnership. Under these auspices nearly 100 houses and 19 commercial storefronts have been privately reclaimed and restored. Not only do the results look good, but also the project has brought about a sense of neighborhood; and there has been a 13 percent reduction in crime there.

May Street is a relatively stable, mostly owner-occupied part of town and walking distance from Main South, currently undergoing its own revitalization scrutiny. The former single-family buildings represent a different quadrant of Worcester's earlier society and, because of their historical and cultural value, its original character should be preserved. City Hall should develop a comprehensive program to restore exteriors by offering low-cost loans to the owner-occupants.

Target three: Quinsigamond Village

Quinsigamond Village, another dormant quadrant of the city, promises to soon become a focal point once the Blackstone River Valley National Heritage Corridor is completed. Just recently, Preservation Worcester, the state Department of Highways commissioner Matt Amorello, and Worcester's chief development officer Shaw reached an agreement to have the long-vacant Washburn-Moen Mill, located on Millbury Street, house the river's visitors' center (rather than rip the building down as planned). Though the project hasn't been finalized, initial designs include office space, shops, and restaurants.

The entire area is perfect for revitalization. Originally, the village was developed in the late 1880s, with neatly arranged rows of cottages and bungalows erected to house the Swedish workers employed in nearby mills and factories. Much of its small-town flavor is retained, largely due to several handsome buildings listed on the NRHP.

When the new Quinsigamond School was built on Millbury Street, instead of flattening the NRHP-listed Quinsigamond Branch Library, its refined Beaux Arts Classical style was incorporated into the overall structure. Worcester architects, Lamoureux and Pagano, withstood verbal abuse by both the Telegram & Gazette and City Hall over their design, which, now completed, preserves the historic look of the area. Just two years ago, the branch library received a design commendation from the Massachusetts Historical Commission.

Directly across the street at 837 Millbury Street, a NRHP-registered, vacant, one-wagon firehouse has slowly deteriorated for years. Designed by Patston & Lincoln in 1891, the rockfaced-sandstone building has a high hip roof and a central gable with a distinctive Palladian window that juts from the center. Held by the current owners of Berg Florists for several years, there has been no apparent effort to rehabilitate this once-vital building. By restoring this firehouse, perhaps nearby property owners would consider renovating their homes and businesses, instead of simply crushing them and erecting lackluster slab structures like the nearby Teamsters' offices. Indeed, with the expected influx of visitors to the Blackstone center, we should see the boarded-up storefronts along Millbury Street reopen as specialty shops, restaurants, and upscale boutiques -- all of which would create more opportunities for the people living in Quinsigamond Village.

The overriding significance behind these proposals to restore major segments of the city's architectural legacy is not to turn back the hands of time or to wallow in nostalgia. Instead, by reclaiming these culturally and artistically important places we can, initially, restore public pride. Then coordinated walking and driving tours could be drafted, and appropriate signage installed, which tell both visitors and residents the historical significance of different neighborhoods.

And that's what makes the Main and Madison street project so important because it takes a concerted effort -- not just the restoration of one building. Witness the Aurora Hotel (listed on the NRHP), diagonally across from the Burwick. Built in 1897, and with an exterior facelift in the late 1950s, the Aurora was a first-class hotel with more than 100 elegantly furnished rooms, a quality restaurant, and an art deco lounge. Several years ago, Community Builders Inc. took over the structure and has attempted to upgrade the rundown facilities. To date, it has made little difference in the area.

Wadsworth sighs when he sees the gem of a building. "Instead of knocking everything down and building some sort of mega-complex, work with what you have," he explains, suggesting the adjacent former White Tower restaurant be rehabbed as well. "Keep the '50s look. It's a friendly and approachable building. A nice little coffeeshop with some charm. It's places like this that make a city interesting, not enormous complexes."

Looking across the way, Wadsworth sees the liquor store: get rid of the tacky signs and garish paint job. If the fake Mansard roof of the liquor store were removed, "we'd have a better view of the original 1850s Victorian building, which is much more sensitive to the surroundings."

As Wadsworth meanders further down Main Street, he sees more opportunity. The city, he suggests, should reclaim the boarded-up and fenced-off Odd Fellows building. Waving an outstretched arm at the adjacent fallow space, he muses about inserting a modest parking garage. He agrees that a strong socio-economic connection between the many neighborhoods of Worcester is much more important, and realistically attainable, than a proposed skywalk from Union Station across several roadways to the downtown mall.

"We've seen it before. The Centrum Center was going to rejuvenate the city, the shopping mall, Medical City -- none of these projects is going to bring people into the city, the neighborhoods are," he says. "I'm very excited about what's going to happen [with the Burwick project]. Worcester is going to come out of this despite of itself."