Northland and River Roads at Coloring STL

The coloring book for the Coloring STL exhibit at the Missouri History Museum. You need this in your life!

The Coloring STL exhibit at the Missouri History Museum is the most amazing thing! St. Louis architecture becomes living, interactive history for everyone. No daunting architectural academia – it’s hands-on colors, shapes and memories of our shared city.

Among all that building goodness, Andrew Wanko, Public Historian, and The Missouri Historical Society invited me to be a part of it!

The “Funeral for a Shopping Mall” wall at the Coloring STL exhibit. It’s the capsule story and artifacts of Northland Shopping Center. I’m still stunned that this even happened!

I’m still gleefully stunned that obsessive documentation of the demise of Northland Shopping Center in 2005 culminates in 2022 as a wall inside Coloring STL.

This is the Northland story that put me on the museum’s radar.

The Coloring STL display of tiles that were once on the Stix, Baer & Fuller building at River Roads Mall in Jennings, MO. So gorgeous!

They also became interested in my pieces from the Stix. Baer & Fuller building at the late River Roads Shopping Center.

A story of the River Roads Mall artifacts.

Toby Weiss in front of River Roads salvage she carted off in 2007.

Thank you to Gina Dill-Thebeau for this photo of me and the River Roads building tiles. They are even more gorgeous all cleaned up and polished by the Missouri Historical Society team. Thank you!

A pair of Jennings, Missouri mid-century modern shopping malls were extinct and expendable in less than 50 years’ time. During their demolition, preserving pieces of these discarded buildings resonated with a handful of fellow St. Louis MCM architecture superfans. But why would anyone else care about these dead malls – retail is not history, right?

Turns out, Northland & River Roads are historically worthy! What seemed like a personal and emotional architectural project has bigger significance. I am thankful and gobsmacked.

Want to know more about this improbable, fantastical journey the Missouri Historical Society took me on? Then read on.

“Wondering If You Had Any Artifacts?”

The MO History Museum staff doing the measure and photo of the Northland and River Roads artificats they wanted to use in the upcoming Coloring STL exhibit, June 2021.

June 2021: Andrew and Emily are in the backyard taking measurements and photos of the Northland & River Roads pieces they want to use for the upcoming Coloring STL exhibit.

MARCH 2021 – an email arrives from Andrew Wanko, who reveals he and his team are working on a new museum exhibit that:

“…will be a celebration and exploration of St. Louis architecture, with the main draw being that we’ll have huge expanses of dry erase wallpaper with factoid-heavy illustrations of more than 50 local buildings that people can color. We’ll also be featuring more than 50 local architectural artifacts ranging from a 10-foot-tall set of 1870s doors from the riverfront’s Merchant’s Exchange Building to original Louis Sullivan terra cotta, to early 1900s residential stained glass.  

“We’re currently trying to find a couple more artifacts to help expand the story of our architectural heritage… to get some midcentury modern pieces included on display as well. I was wondering if you happened to have any artifacts that you might be willing to loan for display?”

I pitched Andrew my artifacts from Northland Shopping Center and River Roads. The reply email included links to B.E.L.T. posts about them, snapshots of the pieces still in my possession, and hi-res photos of where they originally “lived “ before the demolition separation.

JUNE 2021 – after much enthusiastic back and forth, Andrew and museum designer Emily came out to measure and photograph the Northland and River Roads pieces they potentially wanted for display in the Coloring STL exhibit.

At this moment, I was fresh off 6 months of hospice care, ushering two parents onto the great beyond. So Andrew and Emily in the backyard all enthusiastic and scientific about these sentimental pieces dragged out of demolition sites 15+ years ago was life-affirming therapy.

Turns out, Andrew kinda already knew what artifacts I had because he had been a reader of B.E.L.T. since his college years. Turns out he was a fan of all of us first-generation St. Louis architecture bloggers from the 2000s, like Ecology of Absence, Urban Review Saint Louis, Vanishing StL and Saint Louis Patina. He genuinely loved and devoured all this information and was now able to turn that architectural passion into an adventurous and unique exhibit on St. Louis architecture history.

As Andrew and I gushed about StL architecture and the upcoming St. Louis Sound exhibit, Emily photographed and measured all these dirty, dusty building pieces I’d been carting around since 2005. I felt bad about all the cobwebs and soil she had to work around.

It was a great day in so many ways but it also felt surreal. While elated it was happening, I could not wrap my head around any of these things being something the museum-going population would want to see. But they obviously have a higher vision, so let’s look in that direction with them.

The Missouri Historical Society picking up artifacts from Northland and River Roads for the Coloring STL exhibit.

December 2021: Emily and Carrie, from the Missouri Historical Society, come back to take final inventory of the pieces they will use. A very surreal experience.

DECEMBER 2021 – An email comes from Carlie, Exhibits Registrar of the Missouri History Museum. They’d like to schedule a date to pick up the Northland and River Roads pieces, so our mount maker can begin fabricating exhibit mounts for the artifacts.” Whoa!

She also asked if I’d like them to bring packing materials.
That question made me chuckle. The stuff was still sitting in a metal garden shed, still dusty and dirty. They’d been schlepped around in milk crates and car trunks for over a decade, and she’s asking about protective packing materials? Wow!

Packing and loading Northland and River Roads architecture into the Missouri Historical Society van. Part of the Coloring STL exhibit.

As they lovingly packed and left with my architectural salvage, the waterworks unleashed. It was overwhelming that 18 years later, these pieces mattered to official historians! I’m still wrapping my head around it.

Carlie and Emily arrive, they take inventory, and then methodically, lovingly pack and load my Northland and River Roads pieces into the Missouri Historical Society van. That photo above is the precise moment tears started rolling down my face.

Like a film montage, I saw images of myself in 2005 and 2007, illegally climbing up, over, and into demolition sites to take photos and carting off what I could manage so there was something to remember them by. One particularly memorable day: Standing atop the rubble of Northland Shopping Center that only made it to 50 years old on the day of my 40th birthday. Thinking to myself: “American obsolescence grows ever shorter…” and then arriving at a surprise birthday party covered in Northland demolition dust.

It was a memorable and heartfelt pleasure when someone joined and helped me on these adventures (some of them documented here). But I was determined to document the demise weekly, so it was mostly my haunted ass crawling through rubble with a few tools and a camera, without a phone or safety plan. Today I marvel at how risky my younger self was, and how lucky I was not to wind up in a Richard Nickel situation.

These scavenger adventures would become blog posts, like when the River Roads pieces were re-purposed as garden borders. That’s all there was to keep those places “alive.” I also understood that in the big scheme of things, my infatuation with dead MCM malls was a sidebar for a select audience, which was cool while it lasted.

UNTIL THIS MOMENT, when the Missouri frickin’ History Museum is lovingly packing them up for an exhibit?!?!?! I never BELIEVED these things would have any importance even though I WISHED they would. And suddenly, they did? This is why tears of gratitude and disbelief were rollin’ as the History Ladies packed up and drove away with Northland and River Roads in their van.

Coloring STL is Awesome!

Toby Weiss in front of the Northland Shopping Center exhibit at Coloring STL.

Thank you to Amy Burger for this photo of myself completely overwhelmed and grateful in front of the Northland Shopping Center portion of the Coloring STL exhibit.

AUGUST 2022 – 8 months after the artifacts left, the museum staff created Coloring STL magic. The mid-August night we got a sneak preview of the exhibit was way too much fun. And way too overwhelming once I saw “A Funeral for a Shopping Mall.”

18 years after documenting and salvaging some of the history of a shopping center, it sits in a museum. After all the years of thinking it didn’t matter, it somehow does. Based on comments overheard from people who stopped to look at the Northland wall, it was a “town square” gathering spot. A sense of place is conjured when they look at things as simple as parking reminders or Bakers Shoes’ door handles. Generations of us had this one place in common, and even though it’s gone, a few tangible pieces can bring it back for just a moment.

Detail of the Northland Shopping Center wall at the Coloring STL exhibit.

It was a touching surprise that they included a selfie of me holding a Kresge’s piece that was a bear to yank off the wall. Even lost my favorite flat-head screwdriver because of it. Kresge’s was my childhood heaven and I’m grateful to have tangible reminders of a perfect place in time.

Andrew Wako and his supremely talented team found contextual meaning in Northland Shopping Center and crafted a handsome way to convey it. I was always too emotional about the topic, while they have big, historian/artisan brains and know how to tell a long tale with many chapters. I am overwhelmed and deeply honored they spent time and effort to tell a Northland story.

And their idea on how to display the River Roads artifacts?! The cleaned and polished pieces pop out in 3D from a whimsical re-creation of the ground they once were part of. That’s some creative genius, right there, and I adore them for it!

Coloring STL wall illustration of the mid-town Flying Saucer by Rori!

The Flying Saucer is one of the 50 illustrations by Rori! that we can color. And it’s a special thrill that this building is still with us, thanks to all the mid-century modern preservation efforts.

Which now brings us to the rest of the Coloring STL exhibit!

50 illustrations by Rori, blown up large on dry-erase walls (or that coloring book – grab one!). 16 dry-erase marker colors to choose from. And best of all, no one is shy! People of all ages and backgrounds are coloring on the buildings, adding notes, thoughts, and personal remembrances in the most clever and impressive ways. I know the staff has to erase these walls on a regular basis, but I wish there were a way to keep a record of everything we felt and expressed while communing with markers on a beloved structure.

The exhibit covers a broad time span of St. Louis architecture in a precise and compelling way. But what I love the most about Coloring STL is how they bring HUMANITY and JOY to architecture education and admiration.

Coloring STL illustration of the Railway Exchange Building by Rori.

I spent 12 glorious years inside the Railway Exchange building with the Famous-Barr advertising department. So it was cool to add my 2cents to the coloring wall.

Among the 50 buildings for your coloring enjoyment, you will surely find one that pulls at sentimental, emotional strings. You may feel compelled to add a color or a thought to it, and you must. It feels GREAT!

Coloring STL is the perfect illustration of how architecture is, ultimately, about the buildings people use. What is the point of making a structure if not to be used? In the end, how people feel about and remember these buildings carries on longer than some of them existed.

Illustration of The Arena by Rori, inside the Coloring STL exhibit at the Missouri History Museum.

It is heartwarming and hilarious to see what notes and memories people add to the building illustrations. Like with the gone but never forgotten Arena, folks noting their favorite shows? Priceless!

Personally, there is something very familiar about the SPIRIT of this exhibit. From the B.E.L.T. “About” page:

“You don’t need an architecture degree to know the built environment, just a set of eyes to observe with.

We live in and use the built environment every day, yet we’re too often hesitant to speak up lest we sound stupid…. to architectural academics who don’t live in your world? Please.

Let’s talk about buildings and spaces in a language we all understand. Let’s really see what’s around us rather than look. Let’s accidentally pick up some useful information along the way.”

Coloring STL invites you to pick up a marker and add your story to St. Louis history. Accidentally or intentionally, you will walk away with a new and scintillating perspective on how unique and inspiring our city is.

I send my deepest thanks and admiration to everyone on the Coloring STL team who included my artifacts as a small part of a greater story. I am honored and jazzed to be included. Your exhibit is totally kick-ass!

Farewell to Family Business: Lubeley’s Bakery & Rothman Furniture Closing

lubely's bakery on watson road in crestwood mo photo by toby weiss

The news of Lubeley’s Bakery closing after nearly 80 years of business spread rapidly. Without fail, the response to the news was, “Noooooooooo!” Among my immediate circle, our tragedy is the thought of living life without Lubeley’s Dobash torte.

With a September 30, 2017 closing deadline looming, I wanted to bring one last Dobash to a dinner party, and say a proper farewell. As I headed up Watson Road, mere blocks away from the bakery, I came to another long-time St. Louis family business that announced its closing right after Lubeley’s:

rothman furniture in crestwood mo closing photo by toby weiss

After 90 years, Rothman Furniture is closing up shop.  Whereas the 2nd generation of the Lubeley family wants to retire after 60+ years of hardworking service, the 3rd generation of Rothmans’ knows they can no longer compete properly in today’s furniture marketplace, and want to bow out on their own terms.

Raise your hand if you’re one of the thousands of people who have used the massive Rothman parking lot for student driving practice. Or got a ticket from the traffic police who hide on the eastern edge.

I pulled into the Lubeley’s parking lot, which (unlike most days) was so packed I had to wait for a spot to open up. This left time to ponder some other long-time St. Louis family businesses (not on this stretch of Watson Road!) that packed it in.

ponticello's pizza in spanish lake, mo closed in 2013 photo by toby weiss

On New Year’s Eve 2015, Yacovelli’s Restaurant said goodbye after 95 years. They were a long-standing tradition for North St. Louis Countians, including my family, who had so many family gatherings in the banquet rooms over the decades. But while the Yacovelli family was waiting on our families, they weren’t spending time with their families. The 4th generation wanted to see what else life offered.

And then there was Ponticello’s (above) in Spanish Lake, which closed May 2013 after 59 years of serving one of the yummiest thin crust pizzas I’ve ever had, and The Best tempura-batter onion rings ever (just typing that made my eyes well up with tears, I miss them so).

interior shot of ponticello's pizza in spanish lake mo photo by toby weiss

Ponticello’s was a stalwart of the Spanish Lake community. We watched it grow from a take-out place with a few dine-in seats to a restaurant destination for North County ex-pats looking to wallow in nostalgia and their fine food. There was deep comfort in knowing that Ponticello’s was always there.

The daughter (and eventual son-in-law) of Rose and Vito Ponticello spent all of her life working in the family business. In their deep sixties by 2013, they were worn out. Unlike other veteran restaurant families in North County, they did not flee to St. Charles County to keep on keeping on. They just wanted to see what living a normal life would be like.

With no buyer emerging at the time, Ponticello’s is simply gone (but where are those recipes?!). As of this writing, the building remains vacant, and every time I pass by, my heart feels heavy. Then I think of how light-hearted the 2nd generation probably feels. And that Vito Ponticello passed 17 months after his legacy closed. And that life goes on no matter how you feel about it.

interior of lubelys bakery in crestwood mo before it closed photo by toby weiss

Back at Lubeley’s, inside the shop was even more chaotic than the parking lot. The 20+ customers grabbing their last bits of goodness were respectfully sad, and sharing their sorrow with the Lubeley daughter, who was hella-busy behind the cash register, but calm and gracious to everyone.

The case where the Dobash Torte always sat was completely empty, save for one chocolate cake. With tomorrow’s dinner party in mind, I asked if one could still place an order for the Dobash?
“We are not taking any more orders.”
Will there be more Dobash tomorrow?
“Maybe.”

I knew I would not be able to get up at the crack of dawn to vie for the last precious few Dobash tortes. Anyone who would do such a thing deserved it far more than me. So I snapped a few photos, soaked in my last moment at Lubeley’s, and went to Plan B for the dinner party: Federhofer’s Bakery.

To be honest, Federhofer’s in Affton, MO has been my locally-owned family bakery of choice for two decades. I go there so regularly they know my face; it’s my Cheers. 8 minutes after leaving Lubeley’s for the last time, I walked into a familiar cookie hug, and bought a cake for the dinner, and two donuts to immediately drown my Dobash sorrow.

Lately, Federhofer’s has done quite a bit of interior updating, indicating they are in it for the long haul. But Lubeley’s had done a major remodel a few years ago, and now they’re closing, so the usual signs of progress are not a given for independent, family-owned businesses.

Which is why I asked the young man ringing me out if Federhofer’s has felt the impact of Lubeley’s closing. He said their business had doubled in the last few days, with tons of people walking in to look around to see if this could be their new bakery. And since Lubeley’s and Federhofer’s have some similar goods, there were many who felt a sense of relief that their sweet-tooth need not suffer.

I remarked to him about the recent remodeling and upgrades; does this mean Federhofer’s has no plans to retire? He confirmed that the new generation has enthusiastic long-term plans for the company; they’re in it for the long-haul.
Whew!

Family Biz Speculation
Why do some families keep on with their inherited business while others pack it in?

The nature of the business rather than the generational cohort may be the deciding factor. Food service is non-stop grueling work. When corporate food chains can fill some of the needs without the personal toll, why continue to grind yourself into the dirt?

Or think about this: the original family that started the business had completely different motivations than the subsequent generations who inherited it. What was once your high school job becomes a career that was assigned to you. You’re working for your parents’ dream, but what about yours?

For those of us who’ve never been in this position, this is all pure speculation, an attempt to walk in their shoes for a moment. And I’m sure the legacy of what they leave behind weighs heavy, especially when loyal, long-time customers come out of the woodwork to say goodbye and share their feelings about the farewell. They are surely not immune to our sorrow, but they have lives to live that can’t be dictated by our nostalgia. Like the rest of us in today’s America, they deserve to get out while the getting’s good, yes?

Lubeley’s Bakery Dobash Torte photo by Steve Carosello.

There are sometimes shimmers of hope to keep a bit of what we’re losing. The friend who first introduced my to the heavenly Lubeley Dobash Torte (his photo is above) placed a call to the bakery. They said that since the news of their closing has made the local media they’ve had several serious inquiries to buy the business. And if that doesn’t come to pass, there’s genuine concern to make the effort to preserve their family recipes.

St. Louisans have experienced a few iconic recipes remaining in place after the store has closed. Some of Miss Hulling’s Cafeteria cakes are still available at Straub’s. Lake Forest Bakery confections can still be found elsewhere. And even one of the old Mavrakos chocolate candy recipes still exists. If you know of others, please share in the comments.

We all pass things onto subsequent generations, but it may be easier to preserve a piece of jewelry or painting (an object) rather than a recipe or a business (a concept). And as the originator disappears further into the abyss of time, we can’t expect the later chain of inheritors to feel as strongly about it. Confronting the limits of mortality always stings.

The present is alway, irrefutably, all we ever have. The future is unknown, the past is only remembered. I am grateful for every morsel of Dobash torte we’ve enjoyed, and wish all the families putting their businesses to bed all the very best in the future.

Ackerman Buick: 50 Years and Gone

Ackerman Buick
near the intersection of New Halls Ferry & Dunn Road
Dellwood, MO

I previously covered Ackerman Buick, and the short post brought on some great comments, including:
It’s kinda depressing now, but I can remember when that was the most energetic, happening intersection in North County. Maybe, someday, it will come back…I hope so…

The above photo was taken the day after Thanksgiving 2009. I made the trek back out because after having been dark for a spell, the lights were back on with cars for sale in the lot, and and an Ackerman sign was back up when it had been gone for several years.

And across the window they declared in huge, bright letters: Here 50 Years!  Now, these weren’t 50 continuous years; owner Jerry Ackerman sold the franchise to Behlman in 2006, and in 2007 it became a Hyundai franchise, which is when they took down the gigantic lighted letters that spelled “Buick.” That right there was the end of an era, but at least the complex was still open. Then it went dark and empty.

So seeing the lights back on and a temporary Ackerman sign going up on the building was a thrill. The original owners were returning, and crowing about it: Here 50 Years! That kind of pride of place is rare in the retail world.

And suddenly, the old neon sign (above) was relevant once again! They still had the same phone number, they had used cars, everything was returning to the way it had once been. How does something like this happen in today’s world? I was not ashamed to have tears of happiness in my eyes as I stared up at the flickering neon roaring through the glass tubes once again.

Jerry Ackerman bought out Kuhs Buick, which was on North Grand, and in the early 1960s he uprooted that neon sign and brought it out to burgeoning North County. The little building above was the first new structure to go up on the property in 1964.  The winged, main building went up in 1965.

They eventually had over 9 acres, sloping up toward West Florissant, along the Hwy 270 service road. As you can see from the aerial map above, it was not only an auto complex, but an entire village! I never bought a car from there, never even stepped on the lot until 2003 to take photos, but this town within a town aspect always fascinated me. You could watch the complex unfold as you tooled down the highway; the sign next to the round building at the top of the hill was always flashing come-ons; it was a spiritual epicenter for a happening part of a Baby Boom suburban town, straddling the lines between Dellwood, Ferguson and Florissant.

This ad from a 1969 issue of Look magazine was passed to me by a 25-year Ackerman Buick employee, Tim Von Cloedt. I made his cyber acquaintance when he commented on the May 2009 B.E.L.T. post about the place.  He grew up in the neighborhood directly behind the complex,  riding his bike through the lot as a boy, and eventually coming to work there. He has supplied much of the historical information herein, and major thanks to him for helping to create this mini-memorial.

While talking about the sad, run-down state of the now-vacant Ackerman at a family dinner, my cousin Kathy revealed that she had almost been arrested on her high school graduation night in 1973 for drunkenly trying to climb the elephant on their lot.  Ackerman bought the fake elephant – bolted to a small trailer so it could be tooled around the lot – when Buick was selling Opels, and it was huge and iconic in the area. My cousin only made it halfway up when a cop put a stop to it. That elephant now resides at a golf range owned by a former used car salesman at 370 and Missouri Bottoms.

The round showcase building at the top of the hill housed many different Ackerman-owned business over the years, including GMC motor homes, Chris-Craft boats, Mitsubishi and Hyundai.

Curving off the round building is this folded, metal promenade that led to the parts department. This is a two-story structure tucked into the hill, and is the eastern boundary of the property, serving as a fortress wall. I used to wonder how many times a day employees had to make the trek from up here down to the main building and how many calories did that burn?

Jerry Ackerman gave it another try at this location, which was when the lights came back on, and the Here 50 Years! declaration was made. But a deal went bad and it went dark again. Come Labor Day 2010 (above) weeds were growing up through the once-immaculate blacktop, fascia was falling off the water-logged building, and vandals had been riding roughshod. It was just sad to pass by a place that was once so vibrant with activity now so still and forlorn. And what do you do with such a huge swath of property that was always devoted to motor vehicles?

On February 26, 2011 they held a public auction for the contents of the buildings. It was a bitterly cold, damp and grey day, but it was nice to see vehicles all over the lot one last time, and tons of people (mostly men) milling about the place, buying up a wide array of items.

After all these years, I finally made it inside the winged building! But the water damage was so bad that it was hard to breathe from all the mold, so even though it was warmer in there than outside, I had to vacate.

Most of the auction lots were inside the former service department. Lots of auto repair equipment, to be sure, but also decades worth of furniture and…

…the lighted Buick letters! These sold for $300, and this is why you should never throw anything away. I do hope someone bought the original Ackerman neon sign. And there was one item for sale that nearly broke my heart:

This large painting is signed “Charles Morgenhaler, 1949,” and shows the Kuhs Auto building on North Grand, the dealership Jerry Ackerman bought out. At the bottom middle, in white paint is “1.30.64.” It looks as if this is when the painting was altered to Ackerman Buick on the building’s neon marquee and windows. Meaning, Ackerman inherited the painting and altered it, then took it with him out to North County. And after all of these generations of history unfolding, it now hung in the last stall of the service bay, soaking up the damp, waiting for its next home.

I hope someone bought it. Or that Jerry or his son took it home as a keepsake.

The main building is scheduled to come down any day now, with the rest of the buildings right behind it. By the end of March 2011, it will be vacant land, which is for sale. Maybe it’s better to have the vacant land than to have the once mighty Ackerman Buick sit there decaying, reminding everyone of glory days that passed by in 50 years, then gone.

UPDATE
Readers have asked exactly where the original Kuhs Buick was on North Grand. Thank you Larry Giles for filling us in. Click this link to see it on Google maps.

Larry also shared this photo of his mother Beverly Giles (passenger side) inside the Kuhs showroom, where she was the office manager in the late 1950s.

I’ve also been told that the mayor of Ferguson had yet to receive a demolition permit for the Ackerman site, so maybe those buildings aren’t coming down so quickly? Let’s cross our fingers and hope it’s true!

DEMOLITION UPDATE
The building was taken down in one day on August 15, 2011. Video footage here.

If it Plays in Peoria: New Jack in the Box Logo

Jack in the Box has a new logo, which is both retro and modern at the same time. I noticed this new sign about a month ago in Alton.

The new look is on the corporate website, and has made it onto all their food wrappers and containers, but I’ve yet to see Metro St. Louis make the final commitment: change the building signage.

So far, I’ve seen only one store trot out the new sign, the store that’s been there “forever” at the intersection of Washington & College Avenues in downtown Upper Alton. But it’s not a full-on commitment, as there’s still the old signs on the building.

Is this test marketing, an “if it plays in Peoria it’ll play anywhere” kind of thing? Which doesn’t completely make sense because the national corporation has obviously committed to this new look, so if the folks in Pie Town were to stage an aesthetic revolt, does this mean they’d can the new logo? Riiiight.

Has anyone seen the new logo on building signage anywhere in the Metro St. Louis area? Or beyond?

Retro Retail Holiday

West Florissant & Hwy 270
North St. Louis County, MO

St. Louis hasn’t seen the likes of a Venture sign since 1998. But for the holiday shopping season, much like Gypsy Rose Lee peeling and dropping a glove, Venture teases us with a blast from the past.

One question though: after 12 years, Kmart still won’t spring for real signage?  Nice job, class all the way.

Remembering Famous-Barr

Inside the September issue of Vanity Fair (whose cover asks “Carla Bruni: The New Jackie O?” to the sound of a million eyes rolling) is a special advertising section called St. Louis Luxury Living. Within this section is an ad for Ivey-Selkirk Auctioneers, featuring the photo shown above.

Gorgeous photo (wish there was a photo credit) of a gorgeous building that started life as the first Famous-Barr in St. Louis County, from 1948 to 1991. It’s heartening to see a good building continually appreciated by being continually occupied and loved by its occupants.

I worked in the downtown Famous-Barr advertising department from 1988 to 2001. The building and its history always enchanted me, from grade-school adventures to see the Christmas windows to my tenure inside as an employee. Famous-Barr sold to Macy’s and then Macy’s shut down the advertising department (along with the headquarters a few floors up), with the last advertising troopers turning off the lights as they left at the beginning of July 2008.

It saddens me to think of that advertising department – which was there since the 1920s – gone for good. But at least the building is still there.

This week, the Suburban Journals ran a piece recounting the day the Southtown Famous-Barr opened in 1951. Jim Merkel’s “This Week in South Side History” is a regular feature, and he deserves a large round of applause for his consistent coverage of the South Side built environment.

The only thing missing from the article is photos of the Southtown Famous. So I dug out some photos I took on Christmas Day 1994, during the demolition of the building (shown above and below). That massive lot sat vacant for so long that I lost sense memory of the building, but the photos brought it all back. It really gave the Kingshighway/Chippewa intersection a “here’s where it’s all happening” feeling one only experiences in densely packed and deeply loved urban neighborhoods.

One interesting thing in the Journal article is the sickening sense of deja vu.

“I believe this beautiful structure signifies the confidence held by business leaders throughout the nation in the people of St. Louis. Here we have an outstanding example of the company’s recognition of the economic possibilities to be developed in St. Louis.”
– Mayor Joseph Darst

These quotes are from 1951, a year after a peak population of 856,796 in St. Louis City. Yet it still reeks of the exact same low-self esteem statements made by our current Mayor & Co. to this very day. Meaning, even when this city was top of the heap it felt bottom of the barrel?

From where and why does this city have such chronic low self-esteem issues? It works like negative manifesting and is, frankly, unattractive and undeserved. Is there a clandestine and long-standing political plan to keep this city in a meek and groveling state of mind? Is it a certain generational mindset passed on down? Is it an unforeseen backfiring of St. Louis humility and gentility?

If anyone has any plausible theories on St. Louis Self Esteem origins, I’d love to hear them.

Gravois Store Front Addition

5613 Gravois, near Bates
South St. Louis, MO
In the category of storefront additions, this one is my favorite in both aesthetics and neatness. It’s also a queer building in that not only did they add the compact MCM to the front, but tacked on two additions to the back.

City records are real confused about this site, maybe because there’s so much going on. Yet nothing happens at all, except meticulous upkeep of the appendages to the main building. The 2-family flat easily fits into the time period of the buildings directly around it: 1900 – 1920.

The storefront addition popped up in 1958 and has a distinct beauty shop feel to it. City directories confirm that hunch; Boris Beauty Salon worked the spot until the late 1980s, when Juls Gifts and Flowers took over. Since becoming aware of it in the mid-1990s, I have never seen it open and active, only well-groomed and resting.

I’m intrigued by how it’s attached to the 2-family flat; all the stair stepping, window insertions and roofing options. The hand of an architect is apparent because everything is so precise, which makes this addition a rarity in the category. Part of the charm of the others is the ramshackle vibe, while Boris Beauty is in a class of its own.

Old School Fast Food Disappears on Lindell

Lindell Boulevard in Central West End
St. Louis City, MO
Where did this sign go to? Did it survive? If so, does anyone know where it is?

Here was Arby’s on August 19, 2006. The old style neon sign remained in place even after a harrowing storm that caused damage in the immediate area. But I guess it’s days were numbered…

Those 2 signs made a nice old school fast food tableau. Across the street (still) stands the 1970s-issue counting McDonald’s sign, now forever parked at 99 billion. So it’s momentarily safe. But the Wendy’s became a Jack in the Box…

…and the Arby’s became a brand new building with a boring-ass sign. Where’s imagination gone to? And where did the formerly fabulous sign go to? I do hope it’s resting peacefully with all the potato cakes it could ever possibly wish for.

Happy Birthday, Oscar

It was a pleasant shock to learn that modernist architect Oscar Niemeyer just turned 100, because I naturally assumed he was dead! Much like reading Dr. Suess, Oscar’s buildings are the most spacey fantasies gracing a mortal earth, and I figured an artist as fluid and singular as that high-tailed it onto a higher plain long ago. But it is comforting to know that he’s still here and still working. And that he’s not alone, because one of his contemporaries is still with us, as well.

I keep close tabs on Julius Shulman, the photographer I consider godhead, and was pleased that he had a 97th birthday. Considering Oscar, I fully expect 3 more birthdays for Julius, who is still alert, organized and unwavering in his passion for modern design.

It’s inspiring to know that an eye and heart for progressive, modern architecture can contribute to a long and productive life.

The latest edition of the St. Louis Suburban Journals featured Trautwein’s Shoe Store in a photo quiz, but also gave some valuable information that bears repeating in the proper forum.

The building and its remaining inventory (as seen above) are now for sale, and being aware of the beauty of the original neon sign, the seller will work with anyone wanting to preserve it. The seller is Lily Ann Crocker (a relative of the Trautwein brothers), and she can be reached at 314.496.9292 about any of these matters.

South Broadway Details

South Broadway & East and West Arlee
South St. Louis County
What intrigues up close pans out to…

…the type of remuddle that probably aggravates me the most: Cedar Shingle Fill-In.

This 1930 building is just south of the River Des Peres, along a curious stretch of street that always tricks me into believing I’m inside the city limits. But no, it’s actually part of the interesting migration history of our St. Louis Counties.

Across the street is a detail of Barb’s Rendevous. Their marquee signage is a giggle because maybe, at the time, they couldn’t afford both the apostrophe and the Z?

It’s worth a drive to see all of the groggy variety in this 1927 building. It’s always closed when I go by, so if any of you have actually been inside, tell me about it.