Spring Is Here

Mackenzie & Gravois
Affton, MO

My favorite indicator that Spring is truly here?

When the ‘ole fashion Dairy Queen in Affton opens for delicious business!

Doll House Time Traveling

While procrastinating over cleaning the kitchen floor, I went digging into some far corners of junk and found the business man figure above.  He’s rather Don Draper, isn’t he?  The bottom is stamped with the simple - but meaningful - word “Father.”  Holding that tiny, white piece of plastic sent my memory hurtling back in time to the metal doll house he belonged to… he’s the sole survivor of my first humble abode.

Pushed along by the gentle fog of innocent memory, I was able to quickly find this picture.  That’s me and the doll house on Christmas morning, 1969, in a tract house in Ferguson, MO.  One of the white splotches next to my elbow is the very Father I hold today.

I didn’t really need the photo to remember that doll house in achingly precise detail.  I can still feel the coolness of the metal floors on my arm as I moved the the plastic furniture about, and how easy it was to lose the toddler in the plastic nuclear family.  Placing furniture in inappropriate rooms (toilet in the living room, bed in the kitchen!!!) was always good for a giggle, and Fisher-Price farm animals were conveniently sized to fit in and around  the homestead.

With the wonder of the cyber world, I can share the details an ancient photo cannot provide.  One site got me to the photo above, which is pretty close to the interior of the Marx Colonial model I had.  My version did not have curtains on the living room picture window.  Hard to overlook that at this very moment in time, my living room has green walls with no curtains on the picture window.  Do we travel so far just to come back where we started?

Remove that dormer, and this is exactly what my doll house looked like from the front.

And here’s a wonderful shot of all the furniture pieces.  This website also revealed that the house came in panels that had to be put together.  I clearly remember it being one delicious whole on Christmas morning, so I guess my Father had to do some Christmas Eve construction.

So, I’ve spent a bit of time remembering the doll house and how much it meant.  Doll houses hold a very strong allure and special meaning for little girls, even as they age.  I’ve also been thinking about all the little boys who wished they could have gotten their hands on our doll houses without facing unceasing hours of ribbing.  How many of them messed with the houses when no one was looking, and how many of them turned into architects and designers?

I don’t remember what happened to this doll house; it feels like it had a short shelf life, which would not have been of my choosing.  Do any of you still have your doll houses? Or pictures of you with your doll house?  I’d love to share your time travel doll house moments.

Moloney Electric in Walnut Park

It was a January 2nd phone conversation with my Father, and I don’t recall what got us on the topic, but we started talking about Walnut Park, a neighborhood in North St. Louis.  He began reminiscing about what that neighborhood was like well over 40 years ago, and named all of the companies and manufacturing firms (like the Chrysler plant, the small ammunition plant, etc.) in the area, and how all those employees populated the Walnut Park neighborhood.

As is the topography of his amazing memory, my Father started rattling off the names of companies, street by street, a list of by-gone firms that either folded, merged or moved their operations outside of American soil, and how this killed the vitality of the surrounding area.  There’s no disputing that population density follows jobs.

As my Father walked down memory lane, he stumbled on the name of the long-time electric company on Semple Avenue.  He described the building, what they manufactured, but that he couldn’t remember its name brought the conversation to a close.  On January 3rd, there was this brief message from him on my answering machine: “Moloney Electric.  The name of the place on Semple was Moloney Electric.”

On January 9th, he calls me back to say that the site of the January 8th ABB shooting IS the old Moloney Electric building.  A search of Moloney Electric brings up a history of acquisitions which eventually resulted in ABB at its present St. Louis location.

Considering our earlier conversations about the building and the tragedy that took place shortly thereafter, I think I’m going to lay off for a little bit on having these types of historical conversations with my Father, Built Environment Nostradamus.

A Magical Winter Wonderland

Today on my lunch hour, I cut through some parking lots to avoid the traffic at the Kirkwood Rd. & Big Bend intersection, and I saw some cars coming out from a road I’d never noticed before.  It turned out to be the way into the Vianney High School campus, and since it all looked so pretty and peaceful in the snow, I meandered a bit just to see what there was to see.

After admiring the seasonal appropriateness of a snowman gleeful in the falling snow (above), I saw this…

… which then turned into a large yard cram-packed with sculptures!

So many sculptures frozen in the snow, and so surreal that I had to double check that I was in real time, rather than a day dream.

There were no other cars around, no people to be seen;  I was totally alone in what looked like the day care for Laumier Sculpture Park, which is somewhat nearby.  It was just the sound of snow falling on a lawn filled with larger-than-life, fanciful shapes, a magical winter wonderland tucked into the pocket of a bustling town.  Time stood still, and in that moment it was pure joy.

Turns out I’d stumbled upon Marianist Galleries, which is filled outside and in by the works of Brother Melvin Meyer.   Is St. Louis filled with so many artful opportunities that this little place can’t compete for attention?  Or do they purposely keep this place under the radar?  Either way, I found a bouquet of sunshine on a snowy day, and am looking forward to spending another lunch hour inside the gallery.

“Your Christmas Shall Be Merry”

Alton, Illinois, 12.24.09

“Christmas time!  That man must be a misanthrope indeed, in whose breast something like a jovial feeling is not roused - in whose mind some pleasant associations are not awakened - by the recurrence of Christmas.

“There are people who will tell you that Christmas is not to them what it used to be; that each succeeding Christmas has found some cherished hope, or happy prospect of the year before dimmed or passed away.  That the present only serves to remind them of reduced circumstances and straitened incomes - of the feasts they once bestowed on hollow friends, and of the cold looks that meet them now, in adversity and misfortune.

Alton, Illinois, 12.24.09

“Never heed such dismal reminiscences.  There are few men who have lived long enough in the world who cannot call up such thoughts any day of the year.  So do not select the merriest of the 365 days for your doleful recollections.  Draw your chair nearer the blazing fire - fill the glass and send round the song.  And if your room be smaller than it was a dozen years ago, or if your glass be filled with reeking punch instead of sparkling wine, put a good face on the matter and empty it offhand, and fill another, and troll off the old ditty you used to sing, and thank God it’s no worse.

“Dwell not upon the past; reflect upon your present blessings - of which every many has many - not your misfortunes, of which all men have some.  Fill your glass again, with a merry face and contented heart.  Our lives go on, but your Christmas shall be merry, and your new year a happy one!”

-excerpt from Charles Dickens’ first Christmas short story, “A Christmas Dinner,” 1835

South St. Louis, Missouri, 12.24.09

Holiday Gift Suggestion

In recognition of Black Friday and the holiday shopping season, may we suggest Frank Lloyd Wright’s Falling Water done up Lego-style? Because it’s plastic, you could suspend the finished product over running water and not face the water management issues the real-life version has.

The Guggenheim is also available, at a much cheaper price.   Lego also offers up the Empire State Building, the Space Needle and other architectural gems.  Very cool gift idea for building-minded folks of all ages.

An MCM Light Bulb Moment

5230 Hampton Avenue, South St. Louis City, MO

While yet again photographing the former Buder branch of the St. Louis Public Library, I had a literal “light bulb went off over my head” cartoon moment of realization.  All of the original pole light fixtures of this 1961 building (which still work, courtesy of the great up-keep from the Record Exchange), look like the ones that are now missing from…

…this 1959 church in Black Jack which I covered here, previously.  Checking my photo archives verified that, yes, it is the exact same light fixtures.  Vandals killed off the light poles in the church parking lot, so it’s a relief to have some representation of them still in existence.

I love how the same light fixture was used on two different ultra-modern mid-century buildings, and how diverse the two locations are.  One is South St. Louis City and the other is deep North St. Louis County.  And I wonder if the Buder Building architect (still unknown to me) may have seen the light poles at the Independent Congregational Church and did a direct copycat?  Or was this just a popular lighting choice for MCM architects during this 3-year period, thanks to the hustle of some lighting vendor?

Rock Star Architects

I ran across this picture in a 1964 issue of LIFE magazine, and gasped with pleasure.  Click to enlarge it and see Harris Armstrong, George Kassabaum and Hari Van Hoefen floating above downtown St. Louis.  The swooning teenage-girl thrill I got from finding this photo reminded me of the first time I saw this:

Here’s David Bowie, Iggy Pop and Lou Reed in a moment overloaded with rock power.  They have given the world some of its most awesome music.

The Rock Star Architects gave St. Louis some of its most awesome buildings.

A Hari Van Hoefen greatest hits package would include Northland Shopping Center.  The George Kassabaum best of  (on the HOK label) would include the Planetarium, and Harris Armstrong already has a box set highlighting his best known hits and B-side rarities.

The music of Bowie, Pop and Reed is treasured and re-mastered and re-released because it matters very much.  I hope that soon - very soon - St. Louis will learn to do the same with the works of Armstrong, Kassabaum and Van Hoefen.

Little Things Mean A Lot

Morgan Ford at Poepping Street
South St. Louis City, MO

Subdivision entrance monuments, like the one shown above,  are always interesting to observe.  They are often the first thing to go up when a new subdivision is developed, and the design and materials chosen either reflect the aesthetic of the subdivision or wind up at great odds with what resulted.  But mainly, entrance monuments are about place-marking, a means of declaring to passers-by (and in the early days of development, potential buyers) that “we are a proud and unique community.”

One morning at the end of July, I pass by the entrance to Al-Clare Meadows and see one of the signs down and scattered.  I’m assuming it was a car because of the extent of the destruction, and how suddenly it occurred:   Tuesday it was standing, Wednesday it was splattered in the neighbor’s yard.

Based on current costs of masonry repair and labor, I naturally assumed this entry marker was eternal toast, that the pieces would be carted off, the homeowners lawn repaired, and Al-Clare would continue unperturbed with a lopsided entry.

I made this assumption because of where it’s located and its age.  The small-to-modest size tract homes of Al-Clare Meadows (the name came from combining Alberta and Clarence Dalton, the subdivision developers) are a bit south of the River Des Peres, and a scootch away from the St. Louis City/County line.  So it’s in that nebulous part of town that’s not quite city, not quite county; not quite old, not quite new; not really distinct but certainly unoffensive.  Honestly, people tend to overlook this unassuming part of town unless they - or someone they know - live there.

It took a couple of months of waiting, but there it is, rebuilt!

(SIDE BAR How odd that the pile of rubble remained undisturbed that entire time… I assumed outsiders would just help themselves to some masonry because that’s what tends to happen in some of the older city neighborhoods.  Hell, they even purposely yank down walls to get at it… but that’s another story, right?)

When considering everything that had to transpire for that marker to be rebuilt (patience, funding, protection, masonry craft, etc.), my heart swelled with gratitude for this neighborhood’s pride of place that made it possible.  And I was embarrassed by my rash assumptions about the neighborhood and the fate of the sign because it was snobbism, plain and simple.  I am humbled by what I don’t know, and I’m thankful that - within the big picture - something so comparatively small really did matter to the people it represented.

So every time City Hall pulls another WTF? out of their trick bag, I think about the resurrected Al-Clare entry monument, because it is things like this that truly reflect and represent what makes St. Louis City so special - the people and their love of place.

How Does Your Garden Grow?

Theiss Road, South St. Louis County, MO

While discovering a new neighborhood in South St. Louis County, I ran across the above scene in a 90-degree curve on Theiss Road.  A large front yard thoroughly festooned with thousands of magenta, pink, red and white petunias. It was such a gorgeously florid display that I nearly crashed the car!

I even did a U-turn to go back and take it all in again, which is when I noticed the gardener tending to his beds.  He was tall, thin and suntanned, with a wide-brimmed straw hat against the sun, and he and his flowers were breathtaking in the most poetic way possible.

From the limited view I could gulp down while driving, I wondered if the beds were in particular shapes.  An aerial view of the home (obviously taken off-season) shows a distinct heart-shaped bed, which just melts the heart, and also shows how extensive his work is.  He has obviously cultivated these beds for several years, and all petunias.  That dedication to one flower over such a wide swath of ground spins all kinds of imagined romantic yarns.

An overwhelmingly lovely sight like this surely brings gawkers into his drive way, as there’s no shoulder or sidewalks along this road.  And it’s such a vivid sight that it must elicit enthusiastic responses.  But in the two brief moments that I entered his world, I could not bring myself to invade the peace and contentment his body language conveyed.  It was more than enough that the time, love and care he puts into these gardens for himself also enriches everyone who drives (or flies) by.

If you ever need an enchanting break from reality, do cruise Theiss until you find this minature wonderland, and if any of you know this man or his story, please do share.