In July of 1900, architect Lansing Colton Holden submitted plans for a Beaux-Arts masterpiece structure to his client, Lackawanna Steel. It was to be the crowning jewel of the vast Lackawanna Steel grounds. Bethlehem Steel bought out Lackawanna Steel in 1922, and closed down in 1982 -- but the place still looms large in the memories of generations of Western New Yorkers.

Built of brick, terra cotta, and incredibly detailed ornamental copper, the elegant-yet-imposing Administration Building spoke to the power and influence of Lackawanna Steel owner John J. Albright and the giant corporation for which he secured the land. Today, that same building is in danger of demolition, and local preservationists are rising up to convince company and city officials that the building is still worth saving.

 
The entire site has been owned by Gateway Trade Center since 1985, but “Old North," as the Beax-Arts building was affectionately called, was allowed to deteriorate with little to no code enforcement by the City of Lackawanna. The city recently condemned the building, claiming that its roof and floor collapses have made it a public danger. The Mayor and inspector continue to push for controlled demolition, wherein the entire building is torn down and sent to a hazardous waste dump due to possible asbestos and toxin contamination. No part of the structure would be reused or saved.

David Torke, photographer, local preservationist, and blogger at fixBuffalo, and photographer Lesley Horowitz discovered wrecking equipment tucked away behind the building on May 13, 2012. There was a small notice posted on the back of the building only -- where people on the street would never have seen it.

David immediately put the word out regarding the impending demolition. His role as an urban explorer and blogger -- keeping an eye on local sites and notifying the public about their status -- cannot be overstated. As is the case in other preservation-minded communities, paying attention to changes in the appearance or status of historic buildings is an important first step toward preservation.

 
Local grassroots activists -- through Facebook groups and organizations like Buffalo's Young Preservationists -- learned about the pending demolition and immediately mobilized. They picketed in front of the building, informed passing motorists about the situation, collected stories, and even created an overnight vigil. Their presence served to raise awareness, and also helped the group get to know one another better, improving the effort's collaborative atmosphere. Social media was utilized to gather photographs of the site and share specific updates.

Meanwhile, Torke, with support from official preservation groups (Campaign for Greater Buffalo and Preservation Buffalo-Niagara), performed behind-the-scenes research and Freedom of Information Act requests that helped uncover the money trail. Through a series of strategic actions, experienced preservationists connected the dots and brought the truth to light: the City of Lackawanna believed that $500,000 in Restore New York Communities Initiative grant money could be used for the demolition, which was incorrect.

Local media was kept informed through a series of press releases, social media networks, and personal contacts. Local television stations, newspapers, and alternative press in Buffalo covered the vigils, meetings, and revelations about the funding of the proposed demolition. Preservation Buffalo-Niagara created an online petition for concerned citizens to make their voices heard.

The press learned that the structure is actually quite sound, contrary to the city's claims, and was reminded to hold the owners of the property accountable. By sharing information and staying connected, the preservationists were able to express the importance of saving the building, while invigorating public opinion and raising awareness.

The most important element of the strategy was, and is, connecting with community members in Lackawanna that were willing to speak out and help lead the charge. Andrea Haxton, a former city council member, introduced herself to the groups rallying, and spoke out at City Hall during a contentious -- and full -- council meeting. Along with numerous supporters, she used the information about the almost-misused Restore New York funds to hold Gateway Trade accountable, forcing them to forgo use of the state-granted $500,000 for demolition purposes. Although it's a small victory, this means that in order to demolish the building, they will have to come up with the money themselves.

This short pause gives us time to bring additional attention to save the endangered building. Despite the city bringing Gateway Trade into court on June 21st, the demolition could happen at any time. We are monitoring the site and keeping in touch with officials and individuals who have information to share. Stay current with events and updates with our Facebook page, where we'll announce our upcoming rally and public hearing in the City of Lackawanna.

Dana Saylor-Furman is an artist, genealogist, historian, and proud resident of Buffalo, New York.

Historic Preservation Needs in Los Angeles

"I've just created a shared google map for alerting folks to historic preservation emergencies in their LA communities. Click to see what's in danger near you, and please add any place you are worried about which is not already on the map."

The Last Humble Gas Station

"Humble Oil was once the most important oil company in Texas with service stations stretched across the state and huge refineries that supplied both Texans and motorists across the country."

Massive Fergus Falls, Minnesota Hospital in Danger of Demolition

"What would you do with 700,000+ square feet of pretty much raw space? The Historic Fergus Falls State Hospital (now RTC) is in need of your ideas. No idea is too outlandish - what would you do with this building?"

Philadelphia's Historic St. Peter’s Church Needs You

"St. Peter’s is one of those places that makes you realize you can go home again. From her beautiful windows to the high boxes inside the church, to the climb up the stairs for a look out over the church yard, St. Peter’s is just a very cool place."

Kickstarter to Restore a Historic Building and Open a Coffee House

"I am trying to save this historic building and create a gathering place for the community and visitors! The Kickstarter project is to help raise the funds to complete the restoration of the building and create an outdoor space open to the public." 

How Key West Preserves its Historic Architecture

"The unique beauty of Key West’s historic architecture attracts visitors and home buyers from around the world. These timeless homes, many dating from the late 1800s and featuring architectural styles no longer built, offer a glimpse of the past like no other. Yet -- preservation did not come naturally."

Children Go Where I Send You - A Rosenwald School's Struggle

""Children Go Where I Send You" will tell the story of the historic Mill Neck School in Hertford County, North Carolina. In August of 2011, Hurricane Irene severely damaged the roof of the school, leaving much of the interior exposed to the elements. Members of Mill Neck Missionary Baptist Church, to whom the school belongs, are at a crossroads. Should they tear down the 1927 structure or can they find a way to achieve their dream of turning it into a community center?"

Restoring a Historic Theater in Paducah, Kentucky

"Build in the early 1900's the Columbia Theater is a part of Paducah's history. We spoke with Lisa Thompson who is the Executive Director of the Paducah Renaissance Alliance about the renovations taking place."

But for anyone who's been on the advocating side of things knows, preservation -- in most cases, at least -- doesn't just happen. The story of St. Augustine, Florida's 1927 Bridge of Lions is a great example of this.

St. Augustine, the oldest continuously occupied European city in the continental United States (San Juan, Puerto Rico, is the oldest in the entire U.S., whereas Acoma Sky City in New Mexico is the oldest non-European city in the U.S.), has such great, aged-in-place architectural history that there's almost an assumption it's all already been saved.

But when the Bridge of Lions, which connects historic downtown St. Augustine with neighboring Anastasia Island, was threatened with demolition and replacement with a wider span, preservationists rose up to save it. I spoke with Theresa Segal, president of Save Our Bridge (the organization formed to, you guessed it, save the bridge), about her involvement with their efforts, which eventually led to a full restoration.

What inspired you to get involved with the Bridge of Lions?

In 1998, the Coast Guard entered the debate on whether to rehab or replace of the Bridge of Lions, citing that the bridge was an impingement to navigation. Before they weighed in, the decision-making process had been going in the direction of preservation. It wasn't until the Coast Guard got involved that I worried that losing the bridge could actually happen. I was born in St. Augustine, and couldn't bear to watch the dismantling of one of its signature historic structures. 

Looking back, what were some of the most important actions you and your fellow advocates took to save the bridge?

1. Nominating the Bridge of Lions for the 11 Most Endangered list, of course! That designation was key.
2. We created and continually updated our website, which was a great tool to disseminate information and keep everyone informed.
3. We submitted numerous reports as comments to the draft Environmental Impact Statement.
4. In our comments we submitted a petition to save the bridge with almost 6,000 signatures.
5. We were tenacious and never let any argument to tear down the bridge go unanswered.

It's not often that preservation wins over state and federal transportation interests. What were some of the arguments that you used when fighting to save the bridge, seeing as yours was a "historic/aesthetic" argument over a numbers/capacity argument?

Early on in the process, a transportation study was conducted by the Florida Department of Transportation designating that the only possible configuration for that bridge location was a two-lane draw span. So it seemed logical to restore the historic structure.

However, the Coast Guard began to push for a wider span -- 125' to replace the existing 76' -- citing the bridge as an impingement to navigation. Save Our Bridge was successful in debunking this argument with the expertise of one of our local advocates, T.J. Tremmel. In the end, the Coast Guard had to issue a correction to the figures they had put forth to support the need for a wider span.

Are you working on any other preservation projects currently? If so, what lessons from the Bridge's success are you referencing now?

Nothing even near the scale of the efforts to save the Bridge of Lions. I'm a member of Citizens for the Preservation of St. Augustine. We raise money to grant to small preservation needs throughout St. Augustine. One cause that I'm currently working on is the preservation of a run-down community center in historic Lincolnville, the neighborhood I live in.

An important lesson I learned from Save Our Bridge's efforts is that it's important to know what you're talking about. I'm selective about the issues I take on, but when I do I learn as much as possible, seek expert advise and never assume or underestimate. Credibility is key!

A screenshot of Dear Photograph, which was nominated for a Webby in the "Cultural Blog" category.

Some of the winners were a bit odd (Draw a Stickman), while others I had seen before and admired (have you played with NASA’s new site lately?).

Those of us who love history (and, cough, who work in the non-profit sector) recognize that we can’t travel everywhere, so new digital tools that create impactful online travel and visitor experiences are valuable investments. I started thinking about the winning sites that I was drawn to and realized many of them had connections (unsurprisingly) to art, architecture and place in the digital realm. 

Consider, for example, the website for the San Francisco Symphony’s history. Through its interactive timeline, the page encourages users to engage with the history of the physical place. My favorite thing about the Symphony website is how it mixes material culture, video and audio to tell various stories about the group and its space.

By bringing together art from museums across the globe and allowing visitors to make their own collections, the Google Art Project reminded me that art has the ability to link us to a specific feeling, memory, time or place without having to go to the original context for the piece. The Walker Art Museum’s new site is like an online newspaper, making links between its collections and current events, "creating a catalyst for creative expression of artists and the active engagement of audiences."

We all know that preservation means community, as it brings together disperate groups of people to
rally around a space. The Messages for Japan project by Google helped to bring the global community together after a tragedy, showing solidarity for a particular place thousands of miles away. These messages created virtual memorials and connections. In contrast, some websites were able to mimic the ambiance and attitude of the place they represent. Not sure what I mean? Check out Downtown Seattle’s website.

Other websites saught to make connections between the past and the future. The National Park Service’s page on the Civil War’s 150th Anniversary does just that looking at the “then” and “now” while also incorporating live tweeting of the events on the day they happened.

The United States Holocaust Museum’s website Remember Me searches for lost history, trying to identify hundreds of images of children to capture their story, their tale before they are lost. Others look to advocate, as does the well-known Slavery Footprint website, which urges consumers to be more conscious about modern slavery -- asking us to do something now -- reminding us that slavery isn't just a story from the history books.

And finally, some sites are there to inspire and to remember. When I first saw Dear Photograph, I was intrigued. Here, old photographs are held up at their location against how the places appear now. Each image is matched up with a short letter, describing meaning, feeling and emotion behind the scene we are seeing. It’s a powerful message about the importance of place in our everyday lives.

Although it's easy to relegate "preservation" to bricks and mortar restoration and rehabilitation, efforts outside of the physical space can be just as important for engaging people with places that matter to them. Kudos to the winners and nominees of this year's Webbys that are making history, art, and places more accessible online!

Remaking an Eight Hundred Year Old Hospital -- True Green Cities Blog

"The oldest part of St. John’s Hospital in Bruges, Belgium dates from 1270. Subsequent buildings date from the 14th through 17th centuries. Today the complex of at least 10 buildings houses a hospital museum, a historic dispensary museum, an art and community center, a Picasso gallery and a restaurant. It was actually a hospital until 1976. It occupies a large piece of land overlooking one of the main canals and opposite the Church of Our Lady, which contains one of the only Michelangelo sculptures outside of Italy. It could be location, location, location but add to that the European ethic of reuse, and this hospital has found new uses that keeps it even more active than it’s ever been."

The Limits of Density -- The Atlantic Cities

"There can be no doubt that density has its advantages. In general, denser cities are more productive, more innovative, and more energy efficient. But only up to a point. The key function of a city is to enable exchange, interaction, and the combination and recombination of people and ideas. When buildings become so massive that street life disappears, they can damp down and limit just this sort of interaction, creating the same isolation that is more commonly associated with sprawl."

Could Battersea Power Station Be a Trailblazer for Green Renovation? -- businessGreen

"... Battersea could be a perfect case study for how governments and businesses should deal with the raft of aging coal-fired power stations that are due to start going offline over the next decade, raising a host of questions about sustainable building strategies and whether it is greener to retrofit an old building, or demolish it, recycle the materials, and create a greener development on site."

Building for the Needs of an Information-Based Economy -- UrbanLand

"Google’s decision to locate its Pittsburgh operations in the inner city is but one way America’s ever-expanding knowledge economy is changing the real estate sector—something it is expected to continue doing. Not only are high-tech companies looking for unusual spaces that are reflective of their corporate culture, but firms in the knowledge sector are also reviving inner-city neighborhoods, spearheading the drive for sustainability, and even changing the way some new buildings are designed."

Calculating The True Economic Benefit Of Green Buildings -- Fast Company Co.Exist

"Standard real estate practices have a hard time modelling for the system-wide and long-term benefits that building more sustainably provides. A new system, called Economics of Change, finds the real cost."

Truth be told, Dione Chen wasn't really even thinking in "preservation" terms when she started advocating to save the Free China, the Chinese "junk"-style boat that her late father sailed on in 1955 with a Chinese and American crew participating in a yacht race across the Pacific. She initially wanted to save the boat mostly because it reminded her of her dad, his interests, and his resourceful idea to participate in the race as a means to a more prosperous future in a new country -- and didn't want the story of his trip to be forgotten. Her resolve only deepened upon discovering that it was one of, if not the, last remaining junks of its kind in the world.

Toasting the Free China's future. From left: John Muir (from the National Park Service and an advisor to Chinese Junk Preservation), Paul Chow (Free China crew member), Calvin Mehlert (Free China crew member), Vera Chow, Iris Chen (widow of crew member Reno Chen), Dione Chen (daughter of crew member Reno Chen and founder of Chinese Junk Preservation), Nguyet Mehlert, and Byron Chung (son of the late crew member Marco Chung).

Dione's journey to save the junk began in September 2007 after visiting the yard where it was being stored -- and seeing its dwindling condition -- with her family after her father's death. In 2008, she launched a nonprofit, Chinese Junk Preservation, recruited advisory council members, and applied for financial support from the National Park Service, the National Trust, and the Chinese Historical Society of America.

After a couple of years trying to woo someone in San Francisco -- or even elsewhere in the United States -- to restore and display the junk, she reached out to entities in Taiwan, where the junk originated, and where a maritime museum in the city of Keelung finally offered assistance. On April 30, 2012, the junk was hoisted onto a massive cargo ship to Keelung, where it arrived yesterday.

I had the chance to talk with Dione about her story, her introduction to preservation, and her advice to people interested saving something or someplace that's important to them.

Have you always been fascinated with the history and future of the junk?

Growing up, I took the junk and its history for granted. It was "old history." So, no, I can't honestly say I was "fascinated" by the junk. Proud of my dad's story and his pursuit of the "American dream" -- yes. But no, I never had dreams of saving it before my dad died.

I'm sure my dad was disappointed that I didn't ask him more about his life and the junk when he was alive. This is something I regret. I've been asked what my dad would think about my efforts to save the junk. I believe that he would have been surprised and proud. Surprised because he was resigned that no one was interested enough in the junk to save it. Proud that so many people want to see the Free China junk saved.

I suspect it's often the case that one doesn't fully realize what is "history" worth saving, because we're so busy living in the present.

The Free China on its original journey to the United States in 1955.

Would you consider yourself a preservationist? Why or why not?

I am not familiar with the term "preservationist" as a vocation/calling, so would not consider myself one. If anything, I am an "accidental preservationist" -- I am well aware that I lack formal training or experience in preservation.

I realized that the junk -- something of historical importance -- should be saved, hopefully could be saved but was in fact destined for destruction. And I thought that I should and could do something to save it because no one else was going to do it. In hindsight -- with the past 4 years of experience behind me -- I would say that I am someone who has come to realize the important role that each of us can play in preserving history.

Ideally, everyone would consider it their privilege and responsibility to preserve the places, stories, and things that are part of our individual and collective history. Each of has a role in determining what values, stories, and lessons are passed on to future generations. You don't have to be a "professional" historian or archaeologist to step up. 

What are some of the biggest lessons you’ve learned during this process?

First, it's really tough to save a slice of history. You must be persistent, energetic, creative, pragmatic.

Second, you can't assume others will save history for you.

Third, create a mini-business plan for how you will proceed and succeed. It's important to identify strengths, weaknesses, partners, opportunities, and customers -- and to use your resources wisely. You have a better chance of garnering support if you have done your research, have a sound plan, and a decent shot at success.

 
Who and what do you hope this preservation story inspires?

I would like to inspire people to explore their own family histories before it's too late (e.g. a loved one dies, a building is destroyed, or a story is forgotten). Everyone has an amazing history. I hope that knowing their past will shape how people think, act, vote, and treat others in their family and communities today. If anything, appreciating history makes you appreciate what you have today, and question the tendency we all have to make assumptions about other people, cultures, and places.

If you could give a piece of advice or encouragement to someone deep into their own preservation advocacy story, what would it be?

Be resourceful, open, and optimistic in seeking out smart, supportive people and organizations who can help you. Don't go it alone.

Turns out that my friend, a Carolina expat now living in DC, grew up two doors down from the family hosting the event, that his parents were already planning to attend, and -- small town that Edenton is -- that word had spread and people were already hoping we'd come. Reasons enough for me to pack my camera and head on down.

Paint for Preservation's gracious hosts: Gray, Sambo, and Annie Gray Dixon.

Edenton is an anomaly of sorts: a prospering small town completely unconnected to any major metro region or highway. There's a 1940s airport on the outskirts of town with antique vehicles parked in the lot for visiting pilots. The Taylor, Edenton's local main street (which in their case is called Broad Street) movie theater, still sells tickets for seven bucks a pop -- five if you're a kid.

There's no CVS or Walgreen's on Broad Street, but instead you'll find Blount's Mutual Drugs, where the pharmacist, Jim Blount, knows his regulars by name. Whether going to dinner at 309 Bistro, grabbing coffee at Edenton Coffee House, or shopping for supplies at Byrum Hardware, you're likely to run into Jennifer Harriss, the local Main Street director, who checks into all the local businesses and is passionately working to help the town's business scene thrive.

 
And so on Saturday afternoon, after a windblown (read: AC was broken) drive, we arrived in Edenton: the charming postcard town best known to outsiders for its 18th century courthouse (the oldest continuously operating courthouse in America, mind you), plantation and seafaring history, small business culture, and dynamic social scene -- into which, I'd soon learn, the evening's preservation garden party was intricately woven. 

When I got to Beverly Hall, where Annie Gray grew up with her parents, Gray and Sambo, and her siblings, Arabella and Badham -- and where the past seven generations of their family have lived -- it felt like I was stepping back in time. Edenton is known for its old homes. But rather than renovate the character out of them, its residents -- many of whom have been there for generations -- are keen on preserving their homes' oldness: the patina that only comes from hundreds of years of wear, love, and only the most subtle of necessary updates.

The Dixon home, which was built in 1810 as a bank before being converted to a residence after then-President Andrew Jackson's veto of the State Bank Bill, still features the original bank vault in the family's living room.

The peacock, in his most fashionable garden party attire.

As you'll notice in the above slideshow, the party was hosted in the backyard, where guests perused a collection of donated paintings up for auction and caught up with friends and neighbors over light refreshments, and a peacock perched nobly alongside a central fountain. The first event of its kind in Edenton, Paint for Preservation was a major success.

After a few short talks from Annie Gray, her father Sambo (who serves on the National Trust Council), and Stephen Crochet (the National Trust's director of development for the Southern region), all of the paintings were bought at auction and 130 National Trust memberships were purchased. In total, the event raised over $17,000 for the National Trust. For a small (but passionate) small town, that's a lot of preservationists and an incredibly generous contribution to the preservation cause.

President Obama can use his authority under the Antiquities Act to establish Chimney Rock as a national monument to bring increased attention, stature and protection to this irreplaceable and sacred place, but he needs to hear from you first.

Last year, you helped urge the President to take action at historic Fort Monroe, the birthplace of the Civil War Freedom Movement. It’s because of your voices that he took action and created Fort Monroe National Monument. You can make a difference again -- stand with us to establish Chimney Rock National Monument in Colorado by signing this open letter today!

For more information on the site, see our Chimney Rock Fact Sheet (PDF).

The Guggenheims and Morgans (of J.P. Morgan fame) financed the construction of the self-contained mining town in the early 20th century and brought in the railroad to boot. It was all to take advantage of a geologic wonder in the mountains above -- one of the richest copper deposits ever recorded.

Kennecott was abandoned in 1938 and relics of the company town were left behind largely intact. The mill town was designated a National Historic Landmark in 1978, and soon after was surrounded by the new 13 million-acre Wrangell St. Elias National Park and Preserve. But while the park was being protected for its scenic beauty, most of Kennecott remained in private ownership and was not being maintained.

The National Trust for Historic Preservation first listed the Kennecott Mines among America’s 11 Most Endangered Historic Places in 1990, and again in 1991. The listing helped the Friends of Kennecott secure over $500,000 in state and federal funds to stabilize the 14-story mill building, which is by far the most recognizable and photographed structure in the park.

The listing also encouraged the Park Service to preserve and interpret this vital part of America’s legacy. With help from the Conservation Fund and a substantial donation from the successor mining company, the Park Service acquired most of the complex in 1998 and embarked on the daunting task of stabilizing and rehabilitating more than 18 buildings over the next 11 years. 

The National Park Service used the talented local labor pool to not only save costs, but give the community a sense of investment in the resource. Visitors can now tour Kennecott, lodge at the site, and hike to the nearby glacier and mountain slopes to see old bunkhouses, remnants of mining trams, and leftover chunks of the fluorescent green and blue rock that made the mine famous.

According to Steve Peterson, the Senior Historical Architect at the Alaska Regional Office of the National Park Service, "All of the buildings have received new roofing and major structural repair, 10 have been fully rehabilitated, and many have been opened to the public."

As preservation work begins to wind down on the smaller buildings on-site, the Park Service will re-focus in the coming years on the continued preservation of the largest buildings at Kennecott -- for example, the 14-story Mill Building at the heart of the district, the foundation of which will soon be restored.

I loved learning about the home's past from my father as he slowly unearthed its secrets. The small town we lived in was apparently incorporated at a meeting in our house that George Washington himself attended. The property line was marked by a centuries-old, sturdy, dry-stacked stone wall. All fun stories and bits of history. But the stories that I discovered myself were the most intriguing.

One time while I was mowing the lawn I noticed a flagstone peeking out from the grass. Curious about what it was doing there, I cleared away the grass to find it was rather large. I proceeded to poke around the area and see what else I could find. I soon came across another flagstone laid in line with this one just a couple feet away.

I continued my excavations and after awhile had uncovered a flagstone path that started from the back of the house and led out about 75 feet before my mom made me stop. I never did find out where that path led, and sometimes I still wonder about it today. Where did it go? Who put it there? When? How long had it been buried? I was like an explorer uncovering uncharted territory and it was exciting. I wanted to know! I still do.

Old houses tell a story. They have a history. There is something about running your hand down a banister that generations of people have held in their hands for centuries. It gives you a sense of place and time, and a perspective on where you fit in this huge, sometimes impersonal world. You are a part -- a small but important part -- of a much greater story. 

My parent's house has stood there, unmoved and mostly unchanged while the world has changed around it, from colonial struggles of a home on the frontier to a small and burgeoning nation. People living in that house lived through the birth of a nation, the struggles of the War of 1812 when our nation's capital was burned, and the Civil War. They watched as horses and buggies turned to cars and trucks. The world grew up, and the inhabitants of that house watched it all through the wavy glass of its old windows.

A history book contains pictures and stories of what life was like in years gone by -- but those stories are locked within the boundaries of the binding. A museum displays actual artifacts from these times, but they're roped off and safely guarded behind glass.

But walking into a historic house is like stepping back in time and being wrapped up in the pages of that history book, being a part the of the history. As tactile beings, the ability to touch and interact with pieces of history is the most profound way to connect to the times and places they came from.

Each historic home I work on has its own story -- and though I may make my living as a carpenter or tile layer or glazier, I'm really just a reader of homes. Stepping into each old house is like opening a new book. And as I read, I learn more and more until I feel comfortable enough writing my own chapter: leaving my mark along with the artists and craftsman of the past whose work I respect so greatly, and hoping that my own meager contribution will be of a quality they deem worthy of inclusion in their book from so long ago.

A version of this blog post first appeared on The Craftsman on April 24, 2012.