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The John A. Howe Library
PHOTO: Alicia Solsman
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Albany
History, Semester 1
Walking
tours treat the preservation-minded to a picture of the past
in the city’s oldest areas
By
Miriam Axel-Lute
Q:
How many white people does it take to feel safe on foot
in the South End?
A:
Well, 50 seems to work.
This
was not, of course, the point of Historic Albany Foundation’s
second Walkabout Wednesday tour.
After
a few years’ lapse, the historic preservation organization
has restarted its series of neighborhood walking tours to
meet an increasing hunger by its supporters and the general
public for information on the history and the stories of the
city’s neighborhoods. Christiana Limniatis, communications
coordinator for HAF, explains: “We want to educate people:
Here are the great stories behind all the buildings and [that’s]
why we’re working to save them.” The response has been tremendous,
with HAF planning to add more tours and tour guides next year
to accommodate the demand.
Nonetheless, the, shall we say, striking demographic contrasts
of the May 23 event quietly told its own, very current story
about the divided state of the city’s neighborhoods and its
public.
The crowd, having left the introductory slideshow that was
held in the stately surroundings of the Schuyler Mansion,
huddled close as it gathered at the corner of Catherine and
Clinton streets to listen to encyclopedic tour guide Tony
Opalka’s discussion of Howe Library. Men placed protective
hands on the shoulders of the women with them and feet shuffled
nervously when cars playing loud music drowned out the explanation
of Flemish-bond brick patterns.
There’s comfort in numbers, though. Besides, as anyone who
has been to a protest with an unexpectedly large turnout knows,
it’s awfully hard to keep a gaggle of 50-plus people on a
narrow sidewalk. So, before long, the group had stretched
its wings and poured into the streets, strolling comfortably,
arguing about urban renewal, and more than once actually blocking
traffic. If we had been dressed like anarchists or looked
more like the residents of the neighborhood we were touring,
we almost certainly would have garnered a police escort within
10 minutes.
But as it was, we moved unhindered and unharassed down Schuyler
Street, across Franklin, up Fourth Avenue and back on Clinton
Street. We learned to recognize cornices from the 1870s, and
contrast them with the simpler row houses of the 1830s. We
heard about the architects and the origins of many churches
(mostly German originally), noted the Syrian arch on PS 1,
peered down to see where the north-south streets take a sudden
bend west at the old city line, and were taken in by a historical-looking
bakery sign painted on the side of a building that was apparently
the creation of the Ironweed set design team. “Tony
knows all those little tiny things that get forgotten over
the years,” says Limniatis.
Of course we were still a sight with our expensive cameras
and genteel interest and enthusiasm. It’s just not an area
that people in blazers and khakis (let alone polished wooden
walking sticks) usually stroll before heading off to dinner
and drinks on State Street. People who stepped apart or hung
back from the crowd found themselves routinely answering questions
from curious kids and passersby. “Took y’all all this time
to come down here?” one little girl said to me, and I’m still
pondering the many things she could have meant, as well as
what she might have wanted to learn from or contribute to
a tour of her neighborhood.
Several people on the tour had grown up in the area and long
since moved away, and they reminisced fascinatingly about
the location of shops and restaurants and their grandparents’
first jobs. In fact, nostalgia seemed to be the name of the
game on both tours, even for those who didn’t have any actual
memories of the areas. The first Walkabout of the year, the
Pastures tour on April 18, was punctuated with tongue clucking
about unsightly satellite dishes and mournful exclamations
like “couldn’t you just cry” about missing buildings and ugly
modern edifices interrupting the row houses. (The shadowy
mass of 787 dominating the neighborhood to the east, however,
got little mention. Perhaps the amount of destruction wrought
by the highway was a little too overwhelming to entertain
on a pleasant evening’s walk.)
The irony about this melancholy, in the case of the Pastures
tour at least, was that we were walking through a remarkable
success story from the standpoint of historic preservation.
As Opalka’s slideshow had shown us, in the ’70s, the blocks
we were walking (South Ferry to Green to Madison, back on
Franklin) were nearly all vacant, boarded, and crumbling.
Most of the homes we were seeing would have fallen to the
wrecking ball if it weren’t for the silver lining that more
demolition of downtown residential neighborhoods wasn’t politically
palatable right after the building of the Empire State Plaza.
And so urban-renewal funds were actually turned to renovation,
enough to leave us today with a functioning and attractive,
if imperfect, neighborhood.
(Someone did make an announcement right before the South End
tour dispersed, suggesting everyone check out the new neighborhood
plan for the area, and as practically the first mention of
the neighborhood as a still-living entity, it felt both refreshing
and shocking, like we’d fast-forwarded through 50 years.)
The how and why of organizing to retain the urban fabric,
build healthy neighborhoods, or adapt the best of historic
architecture to the needs of the current day and current residents
were not directly on the agenda either time, however. Despite
the barrage of facts they were drinking in, many in the crowd
seemed to have come for emotional reasons, as to a lyrical
documentary film. They were communing with a past when buildings
were beautiful and durable and immigrants looked like their
grandparents.
HAF hopes that these old stories will inspire people to connect
with their work now. “It’s hard to fight for something,” without
knowing about it, notes Limniatis. There are many ways to
know and care about a neighborhood, of course, as illustrated
by the local resident at the gas station who bent one South
End tour participant’s ear about wanting the group’s help
to save “those buildings, one, two, three, four, five, six,
seven I can see from here.”
For those who want to know more about where their city came
from, Walkabout Wednesdays are the place to be. For those
who want to also learn about where it is, I recommend walking
on the fringes.
The
next Walkabout Wednesday will be held on June 20, 5:30–7 PM,
touring the Mansion Neighborhood. Meet at the Mansion Hill
Inn, 115 Philip St., Albany. $10, $5 HAF members. Reservations
required. View the whole schedule at www.historic- albany.org/walkabout.html.
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