I am so happy to have run across this picture I took a couple of years before “Bob” spiffed up his sign.
Oh, he respected the essence of it, so it’s still recognizable, and I’m glad he cared enough to invest some money in keeping the signage intact. Just glad to have a momento of it in the seedier days.
So, let’s test your liquor store knowledge…. where exactly is Bob’s Liquor?
On Monday, June 22, a demolition permit for the San Luis goes up for review before the St. Louis Preservation Board. The owners want to demolish the building at Lindell & Taylor in the Central West End for a surface parking lot.
If this doesn’t sit right with you, we need you to speak up.
Here’s your options:
E-mail the Preservation Board now
E-mail Lyda Krewson, the alderwoman of the ward the San Luis stands in
E-mail the operations officer at the Archdiocese
To assist you in speaking up on this matter, we have a form letter you can use to send to any of the people above. Cut and paste it verbatim, or use it as a starting point to express your own views.
If you want the Preservation Board to deny a demolition permit, it is important to say so. It is crucial that the Board and the owners of the building understand that this surface parking lot proposal negatively impacts the potential and the spirit of St. Louis City.
Bayless & Ruprecht Avenues in Bella Villa
South St. Louis County, MO
I love this house, though I don’t get to see it as much as I’d like because of where it’s located.
The tiny, St. Louis County inner-ring suburb of Bella Villa has a reputation much larger than its population of roughly 700 residents. It’s a notorious speed trap, with 59% of its 2005 municipal budget coming from traffic tickets. And though I don’t typically drive crazy fast while gawking at scenery, it does conjure abrupt stops and lane changes for the sake of a photo, and that’s enough to get pulled over and ticketed in Bella Villa.
On the afternoon I took these photos a cop seemed to magically appear from nowhere and pulled someone over. I kept that business out of the left side of the frame in the photo above. Even though I was relatively safe being on foot, all the horror stories heard over the years ran through the memory bank, and I slowly slinked away to my car parked around the corner.
Ah yes, the house itself! It was built in 1938, and the houses right around it on this end of the block all range from 1938-1940. It’s vaguely art deco and reminds me of some of the places Harris Armstrong was designing around the same time – like this or maybe this.
I also love the Lego look and feel of the house, especially in the way the garage, front steps and entry are attached to the main house. Also, the house is nicely situated atop a hill, so has the added drama of a stone wall on the side, and a nice high perch from which to watch the speed trap below.
On a beautiful spring day, the St. Louis Riverfront was crowded with folks renting bicycles, taking helicopter rides, watching a high school bandplay under a tent overlooking the river, and climbing up and down the Arch steps.
In Downtown St. Louis, a neighborhood loft tour was underway, the restaurants and hotels were hopping and tourists were walking around with cameras.
These two areas are severely divided by the Interstate 70 overpass, which creates a dark, dirty, noisy and imposing barrier people have to navigate through to get from, say, the Convention Center to Laclede’s Landing.
In this concrete, steel and pigeon poop void is where Kara and Steve Holland hosted a Picnic Under the Highway. That’s the video above. And you can see photos of the event here.
Turns out it’s people who make a place vibrant and alive. Huh. Would be nice if this simple concept could become a part of city development and planning. Maybe start with how people would use a space and work out from there. There’s been some official recommendations passed onto the powers-that-be about this very thing. Let’s hope all the pieces come together to create a win/win for everyone.
8700 Block of South Broadway
South St. Louis City, MO
I was driving north on South Broadway on a brilliantly sunny day when I saw the sight, above, and couldn’t tell if it was an optical illusion, a painted mural or 3D real-life fantastically lit. So I pulled in to investigate.
It’s real-life 3D with some fresh coats of paint. The whole building was recently painted in many bright colors, with signs trumpeting the grand opening of Tequila Wyld, a “party bar.” From the look of all the broken beer bottles in the parking lot, they ain’t lying.
This place keeps opening and closing at a rapid pace. I was in there once long ago in the mid-90s to see Too Much Joy. Both the band and myself missed the place the first two times by, and once inside it still felt like the middle of nowhere. This part of South Broadway always feels that way, in general.
While reminiscing about that night, I glanced over my shoulder and what is that?
Is it a Courtesy Diner?
Closer inspection revealed it couldn’t have been anything but. But my memory bank was drawing a blank.
A little research confirms that 8701 S. Broadway was, indeed the Courtesy Chili Shop, opened in 1965, and city records tell the tale of its demise:
Complaint Date: January 1996, Hamburger and bacon at the Courtesy Rest.taste and smells bad
Complaint Date: June 1996, No hot water to the Courtsey (sp) Chili Shop
Complaint Date: may 1997, Restaurant at this address is operating on expired business license. Please inspect.
Complaint Date: June 1997, Too many extension cordes and wiring in disrepair. Courtesy Restaurant.
Complaint Date: July 1998, Business at this address is selling cars on parking lot.
Complaint Date: February 1999, New owner of restaurant has not applid (sp) for C of I
Complaint Date: March 1999, food smelled bad, cheese burgers and fries Courtesy, half cooked
By July 1999, it was clearly a car lot, though an illegal one. And this amusing string of events triggered a memory of driving by this place in the mid-90s with a veteran South Sider, who told us, “Never ever eat there unless you’re suicidal.” He was referring to only this site, because thousands of us have eaten at the remaining two Courtesy Diners and lived to see another day, though perhaps through a drunken fog.
As of April 2009 it’s listed as “Condemned for Occupancy; Can’t Demolish.” Really, why not?
Did any of you ever eat at this defunct Courtesy Diner? Please, do tell.
Bounded by Market, Chestnut, 8th & 10th Streets
Downtown St. Louis, MO
The new City Garden is supposed to open in time for the July 2009 All-Star Game at Busch Stadium, and after taking a walk around it on a glorious spring afternoon, looks like they can make that deadline. The western block looks basically complete and has a unique feeling about it. Most of the construction is now in the eastern block, with Pinocchio (above) waiting to be wheeled into his permanent spot.
Previously, I paid little attention to this project because I agree with everything in this Eco Absence piece. Why our City Fathers continued to stick to a bad plan begun decades ago is mystifying, especially as the parts of downtown they didn’t tear down were surging back to life. Did they ever contemplate just changing their minds and putting all this land to productive use, like putting buildings back on it?
I felt the same way about the Old Post Office Plaza: why is this even happening in the first place?! And then I experienced the place on a warm, spring evening, all lit up and vibrantly peaceful, and it felt glorious, which made me contemplate What Is vs. The Way it Should Be.
What happened to both the Gateway Mall and the Old Post Office square stubbornly eschewed logic and dispelled the vision needed for an equitable and democratic use of these important blocks. It still smarts, hard. But it’s done and we have no choice but to move on and hope the people in charge don’t mess it up even more. In the case of Old Post Office Plaza, it’s an endearing balm for the old wound, and accepted on the terms of “What Is,” it’s truly great.
Maybe the same will happen with Sculpture Garden? Along with the fine attention to materials and details, I noticed that the new landscape and sculptures were able to alleviate the sting of some of St. Louis’ most soul-sucking post-modern corporate crapitecture. Wonderous shapes distracted me from the mess that is the south side of Market Street. As the trees get taller it will be possible – by standing just so or sitting right here – to completely block out those nightmares for just a minute or three.
This garden feels like a giant bouquet of flowers to apologize for the horrible things “They” have done to our downtown. For the sake of moving on, it is often wise to graciously accept the apology and admire both the thought and the beautiful flowers.
Old Halls Ferry & Redman Roads
North St. Louis County, MO
The abstract modern mountain peaks that make up the roof of this church are an iconic North County sight. Those of us who grew up in the Black Jack/Florissant area thought of them as a normal part of the landscape that became especially cool during the Christmas season. That’s when the peaks were alternately colored red and green by flood lights, and for a few summers, they even did red, white and blue for the 4th of July. If anyone has photos of that 1970s-80s holiday phenomenon, please please pass me a copy.
UPDATE: As of Christmas 2017, those Christmas lights are back! And the roof has been gloriously restored. See here!
So, this was a normal part of the suburban landscape of North St. Louis County, Missouri, and I never thought of them as special until I saw this photo by Ken Konchel in 2000. It took the eyes of a superb architectural photographer to make me see just how special that roof was, and how unique the entire building was, in general.
I’ve heard firsthand how many of us St. Louisans have had the same kind of awakening about The Arch; it’s always been there, yeah of course it’s cool, but then one day you see it in a detached, abstract manner and you realize what a glorious and unusual beauty it is. And so it was for me with the Independent Congregational Church.
The church began in 1856 in near North St. Louis, moving to the west side of Fairgrounds Park in 1917 and then moving to the ‘burbs in 1959 to this building by architect Walter Manske. The building blissfully retains most all (more on that in a minute) of its original pieces…
…like these slanting rectangle hand rails leading from the lower level parking lot on the south side of the building.
This is the 2-story rear of the building, as seen from the south parking lot. Upstairs is a small chapel and administrative offices with stained glass fenestration. Below are light-filled classrooms and a small auditorium.
It was in the summer of 2006 that I went inside the building for the first time. See more photos of that excursion here. Once inside, the magnificence of the roof turned into awe over how the exterior structure dictated the interior.
The holy, blinding white of the serrated exterior peaks transform into a wooden plank lining of unvarnished red wood, which lends this massive vertical space a reverent hush. The cables suspending the metal can lights are a reverse echo of the triangles reaching toward the heavens. The sheer, upward lift of the space truly does inspire one to think lofty, spiritual thoughts, which is the point of ecclesiastical architecture.
I have always been intrigued at how willing American religious parishes have always been to embrace the latest architectural styles and concepts. The other-worldy goals of religious enlightenment must make them more responsive to grand architectural gestures, and I’ve always loved how the spare lines and expansive geometry of modern architecture – rather than feeling alien to them – gave them a whole new vocabulary of expression. Quite often, it was a church that introduced modernism to a fledgling mid-century suburban community, setting a tone for the commercial and residential buildings around it. God bless ’em!
Blonde, Danish modern fixtures are carried throughout the lobby and auditorium of the church. The angles of this podium on the alter are gravity-defying and maddeningly cool.
Here is a configuration of pews behind the main alter. To have those filled with white robes must be a breathtaking sight.
In the lobby, above the original metal coat and hat racks, remains a pictorial history of parishioners (and their sports trophies). Above we see what looks the folks from the 1930s-40s, and below…
…we come to the end of the picture-taking line, somewhere in the 1990s. The pictures go from lily white to a mix of black and white folks, and it neatly tells the story of this church from inception to name change in 1998, when it became Christ The King Church.
From its various locations to the changing flesh tones of the photos, one gets the distinct impression that this parish may have followed the St. Louis pattern of White Flight. My mother and I moved into Black Jack at the point in time when race became an issue for this community. But it was also the town where I first lived, played and went to school with non-white kids, and it did much to debunk the myths of prejudice I heard all around me. The current congregation is African-American, and pastor Andre D’Arden is the gentleman who let us roam freely through a building they are rightly proud to be in.
I love that they have not changed much of the building, proving that a beautiful setting – no matter the vintage – allows the users to carry on their business with a sense of higher purpose.
But there are some troubling aspects with the upkeep of this building. Above is a photo from 2003 documenting the last of the globe lightstands in the upper north parking lot. As can be seen from this shot, people were taking pot shots at the glass.
The globe lightstands traded off with these “U.F.O. hat” lightstands. in 2009, all of them have finally bitten the dust, as well.
And then there’s that roof. During the time I lived in the area, it was always a blinding white, and I assumed it was made of cast concrete. By 2006, normal wear and tear revealed circular plugs in the roof. Simply placing a hand on the portion of the roof that swoops down to the sidewalk revealed it’s not concrete, but a textured, rubber membrane. And a rubber membrane in great need of a new coat of paint.
In the summer of 2006, I asked Pastor D’Arden about this. He noted the extensive construction work then going on to widen Old Halls Ferry Road, and that all of the dust and debris had really done a job on the roof. It wasn’t a good idea to tackle a re-paint of the roof until the construction was done, and that made complete sense.
Contrast the above photo from May 2009 with the first photo of this entry (from 2003), and you can see the onset of a deterioration that placed this church on the St. Louis County list of Mid-Century Modern Architecture Worthy of Preservation.
I can understand the garagantuan expense of materials and labor to prep and paint that roof being a deterrant. If you have limited funds, people would come before building. But maybe a special fundraiser and some volunteer painters? If they were to undertake such a project, I’d certainly donate money and would be first in line for a chance to scale that roof!
See more photos of the exterior and interior of this church here.
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Our Lady of Good Counsel
New Halls Ferry Road & 270
Dellwood, MO
I took this photo in the town of Dellwood in North St. Louis County in the early fall of 2003. As a kid, I mentally referred to it as The Flying Building. I chanced upon it right as they turned on the lights, which made it look even more so like it was launching into flight.
It was a quick moment, and I made mental note to come back and further explore this building with a camera. Upon returning for that purpose, it was clear the moment had passed. They had knocked down the original Buick sign and junked it up with a bunch more vinyl banners. But at least they haven’t torn down the building.
Yep, I probably just jinxed it.
Intersection of North Broadway & Halls Ferry Road
Baden, MO
Baden is the northernmost burg in St. Louis City, established in 1876. Because of its location as the terminus of major transportation lines, it became a popular gateway to North County. Or put another way, after World War 2, Baden was like training wheels for veteran city dwellers pedaling toward suburban living.
During the Great Suburban Exodus, the building shown below made an impressive effort to embrace the mid-century modern frontier by donning a sleek and colorful metal screen suit in the mid-1960s.
The heart of the downtown Baden Business District straddles North Broadway and is still mostly intact, building-wise. It is easy to conjure how it worked and felt in the first half of the 20th century, and will be relatively easy to revive as America re-embraces the logic of density in the coming decades.
The Y intersection of Halls Ferry & N. Broadway – known as “The Wedge” by locals – was a bit more flexible at changing faces to keep up with the changing times. Driving up the hill on the Halls Ferry side is like time traveling through architectural styles, from newest to oldest.
From the street, The Wedge looks and feels like one large scalene triangle of a building, but an aerial view reveals that 7 separate buildings make up this tableau (I’m excluding the white building on the northeast corner because it’s an unattached 1970 addition to The Wedge that looks and feels completely separate).
By following the history of these buildings and its past occupants, you get a clear picture of the dominance (before WW2) and decline (post WW2) of the Baden Business District.
At the southwest tip of the triangle is 8312 Halls Ferry, built in 1925, which got a new Art Deco-ish face right around 1944 when Baumgartner Kummer Realty moved in. In 1948, it became strictly Paul Kummer Realty, and he stayed put until 1983. Note the display window; is this where he posted enticing pictures of the new modern ranches in North County? It has been vacant since 1986.
Even though the next two buildings up the hill share the same pink fiberglass and burgundy Vitrolite tile as Kummer Realty, they are two separate buildings, both built in 1925, but obviously re-clad at the same time.
8314 Halls Ferry (above) has been home to John Flood, a paper hanging contractor (1932), Charles Schmidt Jewelers (1948-1960), Hartig Jewelers (1961- 65) and Baden Jewelry till 1968, when Paul Kummer Realty took it over. His business was obviously booming! It sat vacant from 1977 till the early 1990s, when a couple of outlet stores moved in, but then left. It remains vacant.
8318 Halls Ferry was Lungstras Dyeing & Cleaning Co. until it became Rockwood Cleaners in the late 1950s, then Hampton Cleaners & Laundry from 1961 till the building went vacant in 1966 and remained that way until a series of businesses came and went from 1999 till 2006. The space is currently vacant.
The building at 8324 Halls Ferry went up in 1927 and started life as Louis Becherer Hardware. I’m supposing the the missing cladding on the ground floor was Vitrolite that went up when the space became Leyerle Jewelry Co. from 1941 – 1983 (getting the impression that Baden was the place to buy jewelry?). The upstairs was an optometrists office for a bit of the 1930s before it converted over to residential rental. Since 1992, nothing much has gone on with either floor of the building, other than being stripped of its pretties.
We move up the hill to the L-shaped Ludwig Building, an impressive 4-story affair built in 1929 in the classic urban tradition of retail on the ground floor and apartments above (43 total). Most everything about this building has remained virtually unchanged, which may account for its current sad state. More on that in a second.
Storefront 8332 (shown above) started life as Baden Delicatessen and then became Howard’s Cleaners from 1941 to 1958 (how many cleaners did they need in one block?). From 1958 – 1990 it became a part of LeRose Flower Shop at 8330 Halls Ferry, and then converted back to single occupancy for Miss Connie’s Fashions and Matthews Realty & Investment. It has been vacant for most of the 2000s.
Here is the only entrance to the Ludwig Apartments that remained open in summer 2008, and at that time, there were occupants.
Here’s the overall corner view of the Ludwig Building, showing how grandly it occupies the summit of The Wedge. Note window A/C units in some of the windows and know that the apartments have never been updated.
At the end of 2008, all remaining residents were evicted, new owners bought the place for a song in early 2009, and now every entrance and storefront is boarded up.
From street view, the building is still remarkably intact, and I’m picturing a brave and adventurous developer knocking down partition walls to make larger apartments or even loft condos. The potential for this building is huge, as it is for everything in The Wedge.
The corner storefront of the Ludwig Building was a Velvet Freeze ice cream parlor from 1941 – 1999, and that is as it should be for such a great location.
This is the Muriel Street side of the Ludwig, and note that – somehow – the original transom glass has survived over all these storefronts! Attorney Edward Rothganger had an office at 848 Muriel from 1938 – 58, at which point The Baden News Press (yes, the town had its own newspaper until 1977!) expanded into this spot.
This side of the Ludwig had better luck with retail remaining, with Forever Diva’s (at 844 Muriel) being in business until everyone was evicted in winter 2008. Heading down the alley (to the left in the above picture), there is a long row of sealed overhead doors, which meant the apartments surely took pride in boasting “enclosed” or “off-street parking” as a perk for renters. With a little imagination, it could be a selling point again…
And we head down Muriel to North Broadway, where we return to the building that started our tour – The Medical Center. This 2-story brick building went up around 1925, and the place got a new face right around 1966 (see how the metal screen fastened to the brick).
8315 is the portion of this building at the tip of the wedge, which originally housed the Baden Building & Finance Corporation upstairs and Herman Ludwig Drugs at street level. In 1941, Boesel’s Royal Drugs took over the space until closing up shop in 1983. A Dollar Store and a beauty supply went in during the 1980s and 90s, but the entire building has been vacant since the City took it over in 1999.
Here we have the Baden Medical Center proper, so known by the fabulous stainless signage that remains in place to this day. In 1966, 7 doctors had practices inside, dwindling down to 4 by 1973, and one doctor and one attorney by 1986.
In the early 2000s, the City spent quite a bit of money to build a spiffy, multi-level bus stop at the tip of The Wedge, which also signaled that these buildings were ripe for redevelopment. But the bus stop is now overgrown and littered, and the For Sale signs on the Medical Center are a little moldy. But as long as they don’t tear them down, hope remains.
Sunday, May 17, 2009: Film and Walking Tour
This was the Future: Mid-Century Modern Architecture on Lindell Blvd.
10:00 a.m.
Begin inside the Chase Park Plaza Cinema, 212 N. Kingshighway
Have a mid-century modern morning in May! A screening of the new short documentary San Luis: This Was the Future tells the story of the threatened San Luis Apartments. After the 10 minute film, Toby Weiss of beltstl.com and Michael Allen (ecology of absence) will lead a walking tour of the many mid-century treasurers along Lindell Boulevard, where modern design flourished between World War II and the 1970s. The walk will run from the Chase Park Plaza Hotel to Vandeventer and back, so be prepared for serious walking.
See a free movie, take a free tour, get a little exercise, get a lot of knowledge… there are worse ways to spend a Sunday morning! Please do join us Sunday if you can. Michael is the brains of the outfit, I’ll be the “little song, little dance, a little seltzer down the pants.” It promises to be a good time.