On a normal weekday, I could find a dozen reasons to browbeat VCU but I'd be remiss if I didn't (belatedly) tip my hat to Ed Slipek's comprehensive look in Style Weekly at the university's impressive transformation of one of Richmond's more neglected downtown dead zones -- the stretch of land between Belvidere, Main Street and the Expressway.
Slipek starts with the neighborhood's rough history:
For some 200 years, from 1797 until its demolition in the 1990s, the
Virginia penitentiary (whose walls encircled the blocks bound by
Belvidere, Byrd, Spring and Second streets) literally cast a depressing
shadow over the area. Geographically this is low terrain: In 1950,
Richmond architectural historian Mary Wingfield Scott called
Penitentiary Bottom “a veritable poor relation” and a “shabby hollow”
compared with the adjacent neighborhoods on high ground that enjoyed
river breezes — Oregon Hill and the once-residential and more
prosperous Gamble’s Hill.
After the Civil War, train tracks laid
through the area further deflated life and property in Penitentiary
Bottom. In the 1870s, while grand homes were built ever westward on
Franklin Street, their rear yards backed up and sloped down to Main
Street.
And then he describes VCU's Eureka moment -- how to expand a landlocked campus:
The university’s options were increasingly limited. Decades ago, Fan
District residents signaled: Don’t even think of crossing west of
Harrison Street. The campus pushed as hard as it could against the
Carver and Oregon Hill neighborhoods to the north and south
respectively. But the idea of crossing Belvidere — U.S. 1 — was a
stretch. If it was once conventional wisdom that VCU students would
never cross West Broad Street, then crossing heavily trafficked
Belvidere seemed out of the question. Attendance at the Siegel Center,
enrollment at the School of the Arts and sales of grande lattes at
Starbucks have dispelled that notion.
It was the opening of the
new School of Engineering building at the corner of Belvidere and Main
streets in 1998, facing Monroe Park, that brought academics to a side
of the campus that had been mostly residential. Richmond businessman
Bill Goodwin, an owner of the Jefferson, was a major benefactor of the
engineering school and had obvious interest in upgrading the area. VCU
already had office buildings east of Belvidere on Main Street. And best
of all, few people lived in the blocks south of Main running against
the Downtown Expressway.
Remarkably, in just 17 months, the
university assembled 49 separate parcels of property from 28
landowners, including property given by Goodwin and two other donors.
There was no need to exercise eminent domain. In November 2005, VCU
broke ground for the Monroe Park Campus addition.
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