Categories
Urban Planning

Driveway to the Arts


 

Cutting diagonally across William Penn’s original grid-like plan for Philadelphia’s streets, the Benjamin Franklin Parkway is center city’s connection to recreation and cultural resources.

When planners first entertained the idea of building a parkway through the city, this street was intended to be a direct and interesting link between City Hall and the Art Museum. It would be at the same time an enjoyable drive down a wide grass and tree lined street as well as a quick way to escape the congestion of the city. Drivers could use this road to take in the healthy fresh air of Fairmount Park (interestingly, the parkway is a part of the Fairmount Park system), to view art, or later to peruse the holdings of the Free Library.

Originally, the parkway was expected to be lined with large civic buildings and centers of education, much like Paris’ Champs d’Elysee. Some even went so far as expecting to one day have new campuses for Temple University and the University of Pennsylvania lining this new thoroughfare. However, this did not happen.

Construction began on the Parkway in 1917 following the plans of urban Planner Jacqués Gerber, who went on to become the chief architect and planner for the 1937 World Exposition in Paris. The parkway was completed in 1926.

Eventually more impressive buildings were added to the path of recreation, education and culture created by the parkway. The Free Library opened its doors at its current location along it in 1927, followed by the Franklin Institute’s move from its location on 7th street (now home to the Atwater Kent Museum) to its current site on the parkway at 20th street in 1934.

References:

Categories
Urban Planning

The Convention City


 

The 2008 presidential election already looms on the horizon. In addition to selecting candidates, the two major parties must decide where to hold their nominating conventions. Although it is not in the running for 2008, Philadelphia has a strong history of welcoming presidential conventions, most recently in 2000, when the Republican Party nominated George W. Bush at the First Union Center (now the Wachovia Center). The Republicans have met in the city six times. They held their first presidential convention here in 1856.

Why this strong legacy? Because of Philadelphia’s overwhelming support for Democratic candidates today, it is easy to forget that Republicans dominated city politics from the mid-nineteenth century until the mid-twentieth century. The city voted for Herbert Hoover in 1932, and although Democratic support increased in response to Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal policies, voters continued to elect Republican mayors until 1952.

During this period of transition, the Republican, Democratic, and Progressive Parties held their 1948 conventions in Philadelphia. They met at Municipal Auditorium, or Convention Hall: the Republicans in June and the Democrats and the Progressives in July. The hall had last held a presidential convention in 1936, when the Democrats renominated FDR. The Art Deco-style building, located on the campus of the University of Pennsylvania, southwest of Franklin Field, was completed in 1931.

The City wooed both major parties in 1948 with donations of $200,000. The accommodations proved less than ideal; not enough hotel rooms were available, prompting approximately half of the attendees to seek lodging in college dorm rooms and private residences. Other participants had to stay as far away as Trenton and Atlantic City. Even worse, the summer of 1948 was a scorcher. One hundred eight people fell victim to heat exhaustion at the Democratic meeting.

Still, the delegates soldiered on. The active, unscripted nature of these conventions contrasts with the rubber-stamping of nominees that occurs today. Take civil rights, a major issue of contention within the Democratic Party. Minnesota’s Hubert Humphrey pressed the delegation to “get out of the shadow of states’ rights and walk forthrightly into the bright sunshine of human rights” (quoted in Niemela). Southern Democrats resisted a plank calling for strong civil rights legislation and subsequently walked out. They formed the short-lived and staunchly segregationist States’ Rights Democratic, or Dixiecrat, Party. Their candidate Strom Thurmond went on to carry four Deep South states.

Demonstrating the political sea change wrought by the New Deal, the Republican platform included a variety of proposals involving government aid. Republicans called for civil rights legislation, including an anti-lynching law and a measure abolishing poll taxes. They also supported an extension of Social Security benefits and federal funding for slum clearance and low-cost housing. The party nominated Thomas E. Dewey for the second election in a row. In light of a divided Democratic Party, election watchers expected that Dewey would coast to an easy victory. The presence of the Progressive Party, which siphoned off some of the Democrats’ most left-leaning constituents, looked like more bad news for the Democratic nominee, Harry S. Truman.

The Progressives’ Philadelphia convention showcased their emphasis on major reforms. It was an enthusiastic affair attended by delegates from ordinary backgrounds. Many of them had no previous political experience. Observing the attendees at Convention Hall, CBS News correspondent Howard K. Smith noted, “The throng certainly was not affluent. It included hundreds who had hitch-hiked to the convention; scores who lived in tent-towns on the convention hall parking lot” (quoted in Epstein). The Progressive Party platform promoted a broad leftist agenda, including a women’s rights amendment to the Constitution, federal funding for education, the end of Jim Crow laws, and an expansive, nationwide system of Social Security, health, and unemployment insurance. Nominating Henry A. Wallace, former Secretary of Agriculture, Secretary of Commerce, and Vice-President, the Progressives also called for rapprochement with the Soviet Union, a policy that contradicted the prevailing Cold War mindset. Wallace received the endorsement of the Communist Party, prompting a smaller number of left-wing Democrats than expected to support his campaign.

The convention summer marked perhaps the most exciting period in Convention Hall’s history, although fans of the 76ers and the Warriors, who played in the building before the construction of the Spectrum, may disagree. American politics has rarely been more vital and rough-and-tumble. On Election Day, Truman lost Pennsylvania, but his “give ’em hell” candidacy carried 28 states, garnering 49 percent of the popular vote and 303 electoral votes.

References:

Further Reading

  • Donaldson, Gary A. Truman Defeats Dewey. Lexington: University of Kentucky Press, 1999.
  • Gullan, Howard I. The Upset That Wasn’t: Harry S. Truman and the Crucial Election of 1948. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 1998.

Categories
Urban Planning

Views from Center City

As the geographic heart and Central Business District (CBD) of Philadelphia, Center City is busy hub of activity. It is bounded by South Street to the South, the Delaware River to the east, the Schuykill River to the West, and either Vine Street or Spring Garden Street (depending on whom you ask) at the North. While Center City continues to grow and transform, the following images from the past offer unique glimpses of the area’s physical continuities and changes.


 
The first markets were held at the corner of Front and High (Market) Streets during Philadelphia’s early years. The location of market houses shifted and expanded over time. One impressed traveler wrote in 1824, “The market house, which is nothing more than a roof supported by pillars and quite open to each side, begins on the banks of the Delaware, and runs more than one mile, that is eight squares in length!” (Alotta 150). This photograph, taken almost 90 years later, shows the inside of the market house at 2nd and Pine Streets.


 
At the City Archives, there are many photographs taken from the heights of City Hall. This spectacular shot demonstrates why, as it captures parts of Center City and Fairmount in gorgeous detail. Aside from its world-class collection, the Art Museum, of course, brings to mind Rocky, but this photo was taken many years before the first bad imitation of the fictional boxer’s run up the museum steps.


 
Heat indexes of over 100 degrees may leave us begging for cold weather. This 1914 image, which looks north from Broad and Walnut Streets, offers a reminder that Philadelphia winters can be as equally punishing. The caption says it all: “Snowing Like Hell.”


 
Here is a portrait of (controlled) chaos. The landscape around North Broad Street goes up in smoke in this 1913 photograph depicting a fire demonstration.


 
The Drake rises imposingly from its location on the 1500 block of Spruce. Built in 1929 as a luxury hotel, its 32-story structure is now restored to its former glory. It has been placed on the National Register of Historic Places and operates today as an apartment building–with a great view.

Reference:

  • Alotta, Robert I. Mermaids, Monasteries, Cherokees and Custer: The Stories behind Philadelphia Street Names. Chicago: Bonus Books, 1990.

Categories
Urban Planning

The Hidden River, Part Two


 

In the early decades of the twentieth century, Philadelphia matured into a fully-grown industrial city. Awash in new office buildings, new factories, new neighborhoods, and new citizens, the city underwent a dramatic transformation. Immigrant newspapers proliferated. South Philadelphia developed into an enclave for Italian immigrants. German immigrants headed into North Philadelphia and Germantown. And many middle-class workers capitalized on their newfound economic stability and headed across the Schuylkill River. There they made West Philadelphia the city’s first true suburb.

As the largest tributary of the Delaware River, the Schuylkill River was an integral part of Philadelphia’s growth. Inland sections of the river brought coal and other goods into the city from Pennsylvania’s interior. The open areas along the river’s southern regions were also developed. Large oil refineries were built to service Philadelphia and beyond. Transport vessels became ubiquitous on the river. Workers filled tankers with oil along the river’s banks while smoke billowed from tall smokestacks in the background. Many of the vessels crossed the Atlantic and helped supply the nations of Europe with the oil they needed to continue their own industrial growth. The Hidden River, it seemed, was not so hidden anymore.


 

The largest of the refineries constructed along the Schuylkill was that of the Atlantic Refining Company. Originally founded in 1866 as the Atlantic Petroleum Storage Company, the company did not come into its own until it was bought out by oil magnate John D. Rockefeller in 1874 and integrated into his Standard Oil Trust. The break-up of Standard Oil in 1911 left Atlantic on its own and in control of the oil supply for Pennsylvania and Delaware (Standard Oil of New Jersey had jurisdiction in that state). The large refinery located near the Point Breeze section of the Schuylkill became the hub of its operations.

By the time the Great Depression swept the nation in the 1930s, Atlantic had expanded west and into the field of oil production. Despite its broad corporate goals however, the company remained rooted in Philadelphia along the Schuylkill. In 1966, Atlantic merged with Richfield Oil, a California based company, to form ARCO, one of the nation’s largest oil-companies. Later, after a series of mergers and spin-offs in the 1970s and 1980s, Atlantic was purchased by Sunoco, another Philadelphia-based oil company with a presence along the Schuylkill.


 

Today, Philadelphia is the largest oil-refining center on the eastern seaboard with seven oil refining plants producing over $100 million in petroleum and oil-based products. Yet, the legacy of industrialization, oil, and refining along the Schuylkill is mixed. Years of overuse and neglect along the river have led to dramatic environmental changes that continue to plague the river and those that inhabit the neighborhoods close to its shores. Decades of conservation efforts on the part of the city and community groups have helped restore some of the Schuylkill’s lost beauty although this work is not complete. The increased presence of new, environmentally-friendly technologies within the oil industry offers hope that commerce and environment will find a way to amicably coexist along the shores of the Hidden River.

References:

Categories
Urban Planning

The Hidden River, Part One


 

Dividing Center City and West Philadelphia, and stretching more than 100 miles into the interior of Pennsylvania, the Schuylkill River has long been an integral part of life in the Philadelphia region. Native Americans used the river as a food and water source and called it Ganshohawanee, meaning “rushing and roaring waters.” Early European settlers later gave the river its current name, which means “Hidden River,” because of its secluded entrance near its confluence with the Delaware River. Yet, despite its proximity to Philadelphia and the Atlantic Ocean, the Schuylkill River did not develop as a highly used port during the colonial era. The Delaware River dominated that aspect of economic life in early Philadelphia. Instead, during the nineteenth century, it was mainly used to feed the city’s increasing water demands through the Fairmount Waterworks. However, as the industrial age descended upon Philadelphia, the Schuylkill emerged as a key component to the city’s economy. Technological innovations in production and transportation allowed people and companies to expand into previously underutilized areas during the industrial period. As a result, Philadelphia underwent a rapid expansion westward and northward. Thus, the Schuylkill’s location made it a highly attractive location for expanding businesses. In 1912, the Penn-Lippincott Publishing Company hired renowned local architect Mahlon Dickinson to design its new production facility (pictured above) along the Schuylkill at the corner of 25th Street and Locust Street. Locating the new plant along the river promised an ample supply of water for generating steam-based power and placed it within close proximity to Center City and the local rail yards. It should be no surprise that Penn-Lippincott was among the first wave of corporations to develop the Schuylkill River within Philadelphia’s borders. The company was founded in 1792 when two local bookstall operators, Jacob Johnson and Benjamin Warner began publishing small texts. By the mid-nineteenth century, Penn-Lippincott had grown into one of largest publishers in the English-speaking world. Its presence, along with that of the Curtis Publishing Company, helped make Philadelphia the hub of the nation’s publishing industry, a status the city held until well into the twentieth century.


 

The new factory (along with the monotype facility, pictured at left) drew workers to the edge of the Schuylkill. The numbers of families living in the Rittenhouse and Fitler Square neighborhoods rapidly increased. In these vibrant communities workers walked to work and, along with their families, often used the river and its banks as a source of recreation.

In keeping with the growth of the local community, the factory became both a neighborhood and city landmark. A renovation in the 1980s converted the factory into a loft-style apartment building. Now, the factory houses many students and young professionals, thereby continuing its legacy as a central part of life along the Hidden River.

References:

Categories
Urban Planning

Buying Happiness


 

A pioneer in advertising, John Wanamaker opened his first store in Philadelphia in 1876. He later moved the store to the location in this photograph, the site of the old Pennsylvania Railroad Depot (seen on the right). This new store, the “Grand Depot,” was the first department store in the city, and at one time also the city’s largest store. It was billed as “the largest space in the world devoted to retail selling on a single floor.”

Unlike the owners of other stores, Wanamaker used a great deal of advertising to gain customers. He ran ads and columns in newspapers, advertising not only the goods he had for sale, but what could be done with these goods and telling stories about where they came from.

Wanamaker’s Department Store is also a famous example of the emergence of shopping as a form of entertainment. Not only could shoppers come to the store knowing exactly what they wanted, thanks to the advertisements they read, but they could also take in the shopping experience. Wanamaker’s store was among the first stores to use electric lights to illuminate its interiors. Shoppers could also listen to music from the second largest organ in the world, installed during the store’s 1911 expansion.

References:

Categories
Urban Planning

Back to Nature


 

Founded in 1855, Fairmount Park was created by the City Council in an effort to protect both the Philadelphia’s water supply and the general health of the people. Several epidemics across the city, including an outbreak of yellow fever in the 1790s, prompted this interest in protecting municipal drinking water. In addition, rising pollution from factories and industry endangered the waterways.

As time passed, the park grew both in size and in popularity as a recreation spot. The park, like many of the Victorian era, was intended to be a quiet area for relaxation and a place in which people could escape the hustle and bustle of the city. Disadvantaged schoolchildren went on field trips to the park, and there were numerous opportunities for others to vacation there by staying in one of the many inns along Wissahickon Creek. Many of these buildings, however, were demolished when the park was created. The Valley Green Hotel (now the Valley Green Inn restaurant), seen in the photograph above, is the last of these roadhouses to survive.

References: