Greetings From Portlandia

Portland Then and Now: Downtown Waterfront

Mike — Thu, 24 Jan 2013 20:29:36 +0000

View of harbor wall construction in 1928, from the west end of Hawthorne Bridge

Before the construction of the harbor wall along the west side of Portland’s waterfront, the river’s edge was mix of wharves and industrial buildings that once bustled with activity. By the 1920s, however, the waterfront had become less of a thriving area of commerce, and more of a run-down eyesore. The harbor wall would add much-needed space to the already crowded downtown area, and more importantly, protect Portland from the inevitable flooding that the Willamette River brings on a regular basis. In addition, the wall included a sewage interceptor, solving the ongoing problem of sewage backups in a large area of downtown. City engineer Olaf Laurgaard designed the structure, which was completed by the J.F. Shea Company in 1929.

View of harbor wall construction in 1928, from the west end of Hawthorne Bridge

View of harbor wall and Tom McCall Waterfront Park in 2010, from Hawthorne Bridge

A Walk in Reed Canyon

Mike — Tue, 22 Jan 2013 16:22:15 +0000

The Blue Bridge, a pedestrian bridge over Reed Lake

A lot of Portlanders think of Reed College as a closed campus, or at least a campus they’d rather avoid. That is unfortunate, because hidden on the campus is a Portland treasure, Reed Canyon. An excellent example of an urban wildlife area, the canyon is formed by Crystal Springs Creek on the east end of the campus, then flows into Reed Lake and then out the west side of campus and into Crystal Springs Rhododendron Garden. Recent restoration projects have resulted in even more wildlife, less invasive species and a more natural setting throughout the canyon, although there is still some work to be done in this regard.

Portland Then and Now: The Thompson Elk Fountain

Mike — Sat, 19 Jan 2013 00:59:00 +0000

The Thompson Elk Fountain in 1901
(City of Portland archives)

For our first “Then and Now” post, we have a true Portland icon: The Thompson Elk Fountain. The fountain was presented to the city in 1900 by former mayor David P. Thompson, and features a bronze statue of an elk towering over stone drinking basins meant for horses and dogs. While the statue may be somewhat unremarkable, its location directly in the middle of the street makes it memorable for anyone who has driven SW Main (between SW 3rd and SW 4th). Attempts to move the fountain have, obviously, been unsuccessful and that is unlikely to change now, as the statue and the surrounding Chapman and Lownsdale Squares are all on the National Register of Historic Places. Unfortunately, after the change over to one-way streets downtown, traffic on SW Main only sees the back of the statue.

Click on the photos for larger versions

The Thompson Elk Fountain in 1901
(City of Portland archives)

The Thompson Elk Fountain in 2011

Disappearing History: Sellwood’s Golf Junction

Mike — Mon, 14 Jan 2013 19:19:41 +0000

Golf Junction in the early 20th century (via pdxhistory.com)

In a sleepy corner of Sellwood, nestled against the city limits and the Waverly Golf Club, is a disappearing part of Portland’s extensive history of rail transportation. The non-descript entrance to the hidden Garthwick neighborhood and the extant buildings don’t give a lot of clues to the bustling activity you would have seen here one hundred years ago. While many people know Portland once had an extensive streetcar system, they often don’t know that Portland also had the nation’s first interurban railway, what we today would call “light rail”. These trains connected urban town centers (hence “interurban”) such as Oregon City, Milwaukee, Troutdale and Gresham to Portland and each other. This differed from the streetcar system, which connected close-in neighborhoods such as Buckman, Kerns, Montvilla, Woodstock, King’s Heights, Council Crest, etc. to the city center.

Undated view of the Sellwood car barns while still in operation (via tinzeroes.blogspot.com)

Construction began in 1890 on the first interurban line in Portland (and the U.S.), which ran from the city center to Sellwood (along what is now the Willamette River portion of the Springwater Corridor), then on to Milwaukee and Oregon City. The railway was originally operated by the Eastside Railway Company, and was fully-operational by 1893. One of the main hubs for the line was at the area soon to be called Golf Junction, at 13th Ave. one block south of SE Linn St. The name Golf Junction comes from the Waverley Country Club, built in 1897 and a major destination along the line. Large car barns were built here for storage and maintenance of interurban rail cars, and the Sellwood population grew with the associated influx of railway workers, as well as office workers who now had easy access to downtown.

Last wall standing of the historic Sellwood car barns, demolished in 2012

The area became even more important as new rail lines running to Boring and Estacada along the eastern section of the Springwater Corridor connected to the original Oregon City line at Golf Junction. Additionally, in 1905, the current owners of the line, Oregon Water Power and Railway Company, built a power substation here to help feed the growing need for electricity along the growing rail network. The power substation still exists, and the electric infrastructure surrounding the historic substation has been expanded greatly over the years to serve the needs of much more than just the rail lines.

The historic power substation in Sellwood, originally built by Oregon Water Power and Railway Co.

As the rail system began to decline in the 1950s, the area ceased to be a beehive of activity, and became an all-but-forgotten corner of the Sellwood neighborhood. The car barn and office buildings fell into disuse, and as interest in Sellwood began to grow again, the old railway properties were a target of demolition and re-development. One of the office buildings was listed on the National Register of Historic Places and refurbished, and is now in use again by office tenants. More recently, in 2005, a developer from Fort Worth, TX demolished the historic car barns and built a development of town houses, saving one exterior wall of the barns for posterity. Unfortunately, they did a poor job of maintaining the wall, and it was torn down in 2012 due to safety concerns.

View of the remaining interurban tracks and the current 13th Street alignment in Sellwood

The only other remaining piece of history lies in the new Golf Junction “pocket park”, which at this point is somewhat indistinguishable from a small slice of undeveloped land. However, it contains probably the last remaining (and visible) piece of the original interurban tracks leading to Oregon City. Hopefully, this little park will have more information about its fascinating history soon.

Portlandia in Pictures: The Former Berry Botanic Garden

Mike — Wed, 09 Jan 2013 23:57:25 +0000

Pathways in the Berry Botanic Garden just starting to be reclaimed by nature

The Berry Botanic Garden began life as the property of Rae and Alfred Berry, with Rae, an avid plant collector, being the driving force behind the creation of the garden. They chose the property due to its diverse habitats (including a creek, ravine, meadow and even marsh), which gave Rae the chance to plant a wide diversity of plant life. Unfortunately, she did not plan for its survival after her death in 1976, but a non-profit group stepped in and saved the property from developers until 2010, when the garden closed to the public. Like the Elk Rock Garden of the Bishop’s Close, which we profiled earlier this month, the Berry Botanic Garden is at the end of a dead-end road in the super spendy Dunthorpe neighborhood, but is even more hidden and difficult to access than Elk Rock. Wealthy neighbors weren’t thrilled about any attempts to increase the number of visitors (like decent signage and a bigger parking lot) to their quiet neighborhood, so the garden ultimately couldn’t make ends meet. The property was sold in 2011.

These pictures were taken in summer of 2012. PSU is taking over the seed bank that was at the heart of the garden, but the property and plantings will likely be destroyed soon, if they haven’t been already (if anyone has visited recently, let us know what is going on in the comments). Given the location in Dunthorpe, the six-acre property was likely worth well over a million dollars, so PSU unfortunately had no chance of buying the land along with the seed bank. Luckily Portland is blessed with many public gardens, but this was a unique property that will be missed.

Portlandia in Pictures: Elk Rock Garden of the Bishop’s Close

Mike — Sat, 05 Jan 2013 18:30:32 +0000

Open grassy area in Elk Rock Garden

In addition to having one of the coolest names of any garden anywhere, the Elk Rock Garden of the Bishop’s Close is also one of the quietest, least-visited gardens in the city. Located at the dead-end of Military Road in the intensely upscale Dunthorpe neighborhood, very few people happen upon the garden by chance, and they don’t really go out of their way to advertise, either. We found the garden (and a lot of other stuff on this blog) thanks to Laura Foster’s book Portland Hill Walks. It is well worth a visit, and while you might feel a little intrusive, the garden is indeed open to the public.

The six-acre property was designed by the Olmstead brothers (the influential landscape designers of Central Park in New York, as well as the entire Portland and Seattle park systems), and was formerly the estate of Peter Kerr. His heirs donated the property to the Episcopal Diocese of Oregon on the condition that the property be open as a public garden. The name “Elk Rock” comes from the eponymous island in the Willamette River adjacent to the garden, while “the Bishop’s Close” refers to an enclosed garden around a sacred space for meditation and contemplation. You can read more about the garden on the Episcopal Diocese of Oregon website and the Elk Rock Garden website.

Where is the highest point in Portland?

Mike — Fri, 04 Jan 2013 02:53:54 +0000

The view from Council Crest is amazing, but it isn’t the highest point in Portland.

A question often asked by visitors and newcomers to the city is “where is the highest point in Portland?”. It isn’t obvious where the highest point is, even if you’ve lived here for years. While Mt. Tabor and Rocky Butte are among the most prominent, they both fall well under the height of the West Hills. In many cities, a good guess is “whichever hill has all the radio towers on it”, and in Portland’s case, that is Healy Heights, at 1043 feet. While it appears to be the tallest of the West Hills due to its location on the eastern edge of the range (and the radio towers don’t hurt), it is not the highest point.

In my research on the subject, the most common answer was that Council Crest, at 1083 feet, is the highest point in Portland, but that turns out not to be true. It is the highest of the SW Hills (i.e. the hills south of Burnside), and it has some great views, without a doubt. But after careful searching, it turns out there are several areas within the Portland city limits that are significantly higher in elevation than Council Crest.

As it happens, a large portion of the length of NW Skyline Blvd. is higher than Council Crest. In fact, one section of the road just touches 1200 feet, although this point is just outside the city limits, so it doesn’t count. Inside of Portland proper, the road reaches about 1180 feet above sea level just north of the Willamette Stone Heritage Site, and then reaches about 1143 feet again further north at the Skyline Memorial Gardens. Both of these points are significantly higher than any other place in Portland by at least 60 feet, with the Willamette Stone Heritage Site location almost 100 feet above the summit of Council Crest, definitely qualifying it for the title of highest point in Portland.

Five Historic Portland Neighborhoods Nearly Destroyed By Highway Projects

Mike — Thu, 18 Oct 2012 21:48:47 +0000

Historic postcard of downtown Lents, before annexation by Portland (image via Vintage Portland

The rise of the automobile as the most common form of transportation after World War II made building highways a top post-war priority. As cities were connected by larger highways with higher capacities, and the suburbs blossomed on the edges of urban areas, the need for high-capacity corridors through major cities became more acute. Before 1950, most highways were routed on city streets in urban areas, streets that often were designed for a fraction of the traffic.

With Eisenhower’s Interstate Highway plan, the die was cast. Urban planners such as Robert Moses saw their visions of grade-separated thoroughfares to carry traffic through cities quickly come to life. The promise of living in the idyllic suburbs and working in the city seemed to justify the cost. Unfortunately, as the first wave of construction tore through cities, it became apparent there was another cost. Historic neighborhoods, some over a hundred years old, were suddenly torn apart, divided by six to ten lanes of speeding traffic. It is hard to imagine how different life in these neighborhoods was before the freeways were built. Here are five examples of Portland neighborhoods that fell victim to the all-mighty automobile.

Lents

Lents was originally platted by George Lent in 1892, but had been settled even earlier by his father, Oliver P. Lent. Lents, like Portland, was so named because of a coin flip, with Oliver Lent on the winning side of this one. The town center was located around the three-sided intersection where SE 92nd, SE Woodstock and SE Foster all meet. Even though Lents was annexed by Portland in 1912, its distance from the downtown core and lower-income population made it a low-priority for the growing city. By the 1970s, its political clout was no match for more powerful neighborhoods such as Laurelhurst, who were able to fight construction of I-205 through the 39th Ave. corridor as originally planned. Instead, the corridor steadily moved east until it ran right through Lents’ Town Center, effectively destroying the core of the community. While the town center is now an Urban Renewal Area (and finally benefits from the promised MAX light rail line that came with freeway construction), it has yet to recover from the damage done.

View of downtown Portland in 1964, just as demolition for the I-405 freeway was starting. (Image via Vintage Portland

Downtown/Goose Hollow

The I-405 corridor through downtown likely occupies the most valuable real estate of any of Portland’s freeways. As we’ve talked about before, this project destroyed 26 blocks of prime real estate along the southern and western edges of the downtown core. While the sunken grade and frequent at-grade street crossings make the freeway less of a barrier than the others on the list, the construction’s disregard for the historic connections between neighborhoods such as Goose Hollow and the downtown core means that it makes the list.

Brooklyn

I doubt many neighborhoods have suffered as much as Portland’s Brooklyn neighborhood has at the hands of highway progress without having an actual freeway built through it. One of Portland’s earliest neighborhoods, it survived complete destruction when the Mt. Hood Freeway was cancelled in the late 1960s. By that time, the expansion of Powell Boulevard had destroyed it’s town center (located at Powell and Milwaukie) and it’s connection to the river was severed by McLoughlin Boulevard. To top it off, an underpass for Powell Boulevard was built at it’s intersection with SE 17th Ave. to allow train traffic to cross at-grade, leaving blocks and blocks of completely impassable asphalt. Luckily, Brooklyn has somehow survived all that to become a desirable neighborhood again.

Albina

Now considered an “area” comprising several smaller neighborhoods, Albina appeared on the map in 1873, and like Lents was originally a separate town, absorbed into Portland in 1891. As a low-income neighborhood (and one of Portland’s few neighborhoods with a predominantly African-American population), it was an easy target for planners of the “Minnesota Freeway” (today’s I-5) who wanted to avoid a legal fight with more wealthy residents. The freeway cut a two-block wide chasm through the entire Albina area, dividing several historical neighborhoods and causing damage that the area is still struggling to recover from.

The Gibbs Street Pedestrian Bridge, opened in 2012, reconnects the Corbett-Lair Hill neighborhoods with the Willamette River.

Corbett-Lair Hill

The Corbett-Lair Hill neighborhood (now officially part of the South Portland Neighborhood Association) is one of the oldest in Portland, lying just south of the downtown core. Squeezed between the West Hills and the Willamette River, the neighborhood enjoyed excellent views and easy access to the river for years, until the construction of I-5 cut an impassable barrier through the neighborhood. Only recently has pedestrian access to the river been restored, with the opening of the Gibbs Street Pedestrian Bridge in 2012.

Where do we go from here? Check out our ideas for the future of Portland’s freeway system.

The Rise of the Apartment: Kerns

Mike — Mon, 08 Oct 2012 16:10:45 +0000

Early 20th-century architects tried hiding multi-unit apartment buildings by making them look like very large houses.

For many, growing up in 20th-century America meant that the “American Dream” centered around home ownership. The ultimate goal of any true red-blooded American born prior to about 1970 is a big house with a manicured front lawn. This idea has driven American consumer culture for over 100 years. Indeed, as the 19th century came to a close, apartment buildings as we know them really didn’t exist. There were tenement buildings, meant for the poverty-stricken lower class, but anyone with a modicum of wealth owned a home. This began to change in the early 20th century, as more young single men and women entered the workforce and lived on their own before getting married.

In Portland, this change coincided with increased population growth brought about by the 1905 Lewis and Clark Exposition. There simply wasn’t room for everyone to have a house on an acre of land, and developers began to build the first apartment buildings meant for the working class in East Portland. Mainly clustered around the streetcar thoroughfares, such as Hawthorne, Belmont and Sandy, so many buildings were built that by 1924, the city adopted zoning laws to prevent the incursion of apartment complexes into residential neighborhoods.

The Granada Court Apartments, built in 1926 by local builder Eric Rasmussen.

Sullivan’s Addition, what is now the Kerns neighborhood, saw perhaps the largest apartment building boom, largely due to the presence of three major thoroughfares (Burnside, Glisan and Sandy) and good-sized tracts of developable land. Seemingly every street is chock-full of buildings built between 1905-1940, many with interesting styles from notable architects. The City of Portland Historic Resource Inventory (HRI) recognized this by identifying this part of Kerns as a potential historic district, focusing on the many beautiful buildings and variety of styles, but no further action has been taken on the matter. In the meantime, two additional buildings on the list were added to the National Register of Historic Places.

Closest to Sullivan’s Gulch, the historic and current northern boundary of the Kerns neighborhood, are the bright orange Granada Court Apartments, located at 2323 NE Pacific St (but actually covering two entire blocks from Oregon St. to Holladay St. between NE 23rd and 24th). The eleven one-story 4-plex apartments were built in 1926 with a cheerful Mediterranean Villa style by local builder Eric Rasmussen, and the complex is listed on the City of Portland HRI. While not quite as distinctive as his nearby Del Rey Apartments (see below), the large property and layout add a charming community feeling to the Granada Court.

The Castle Rose Apartments, built in 1924 by noted Portland architect Carl L. Linde.

Around the corner at NE 24th and NE Irving is another notable building by a recognized architect, the Castle Rose by Carl L. Linde. Built in 1924, the Castle Rose is a two-story U-shaped courtyard building, with an impressive main entrance and an art deco feel that make it unique in the Kerns neighborhood, and indeed in all of Portland. Also listed on the HRI, the building represents the movement towards making apartment living respectable, a movement that Carl Linde helped usher in with several other notable apartment buildings around Portland on the National Register of Historic Places (including the nearby Salerno Apartments below). The building’s location adjacent to the newly-paved Sandy Road (now Sandy Blvd.) and the accompanying streetcar line likely made it very attractive to workers in the Eastside industrial areas and downtown. The basement social hall made the Castle Rose part of the Portland society scene, hosting card parties and dances regularly. Another distinguishing feature of the Castle Rose and other buildings of its era is the neon sign announcing the name above the main entrance, a feature found on several other apartments in Kerns.

The Santa Monica Apartments on NE Lawrence exude a California lifestyle.

Across Sandy at 630 NE Lawrence is a different take on the apartment complex, the Santa Monica Apartments. While it does have a neon sign, that is about all it has in common with the Castle Rose, but it is no less charming. The Mediterranean Villa style is fairly prominent here, especially with the row of palm trees out front. Combined with the rich color of the stucco and the Spanish tile roofs, the complex has a warm, almost tropical feel that is unusual in Portland. Given the name and aesthetic, there’s no doubt the Santa Monica was advertising a carefree California lifestyle, and when you see the apartments, you start to buy in yourself. Built in 1925, the apartments aren’t listed on the HRI, but definitely add another touch of character to the landscape of vintage apartments in Kerns.

Del Rey Apartments on NE Glisan, listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

Nearby at 2555 NE Glisan is another Eric Rasmussen building, the Del Rey Apartments, an L-shaped 2-story building containing 30 units. This building represents the peak of Rasmussen’s career, and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. He took on this challenging project after completing the Granda Court, and succeeded with a beautifully designed Spanish Colonial Revival building that was reportedly inspired by the recently completed Hollywood Theater, less than a mile north on Sandy. Besides being one of the earliest examples of its type in Portland, the Del Rey’s fine detailing and abundant craftsmanship set it apart from other buildings that would follow.

The Rasmussen Apartments have a unique facade that is bit foreboding.

Less than a block down NE Glisan from the Del Rey at 2512 are the fantastic Rasmussen Apartments. While the name (and a possibly erroneous NRHP listing) suggests yet another Eric Rasmussen project, the HRI states that they were designed by architect Elmer Feig, also listed as the contractor. It isn’t clear if Feig and Rasmussen might have worked jointly on the project, but it is certainly a possibility. The building doesn’t necessarily present the most welcoming face to the world, but the uniqueness of the building makes up for it. Another classic neon sign also brightens the main entrance and reinsures you that this, in fact, an apartment complex. The building is a relative late-comer to the block, being built in 1930, and is listed on the City of Portland HRI.

Salerno Apartments

Just over a block away at 2325 NE Flanders you can view two of the finest apartment complexes in Kerns (one is now technically condominiums). Both were built by Carl L. Linde, the Salerno Apartments at 2325 and, across the street, the Sorrento. The style, described by Linde as “Italian”, is an even better example of Mediterranean revival architecture, and as such the building is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. The concrete and stucco Salerno was built in 1930 and is made up of 18 two-story townhouses in a garden layout. Unlike Linde’s earlier buildings, the Salerno incorporated garages, acknowledging the changing landscape of transportation around this time.

Sorrento Apartments (now Condominiums)

Across the street, the 12-unit courtyard Sorrento Apartments (now condomimiums) were built by Linde a year previous to the Salerno. Described in the HRI as a Spanish Colonial Revival building, the two complexes are very complementary in color, size and style. Both complexes are more excellent examples of Carl Linde’s commitment to raising the quality of apartment living for everyone, not just the upper classes.

There are many more excellent buildings to discover in Kerns. Hopefully, the city will someday designate the district as a historic area, but don’t wait, get out and explore. You won’t be disappointed.

The Most Ridiculous Intersection in Portland

Mike — Tue, 02 Oct 2012 22:00:37 +0000

Residents of Portlandia have an unending debate about the worst streets, onramps and intersections in the city. One of the challenges of living in a town that values history is that the quirky nature of early road building efforts don’t get bulldozed into 6-lane arterials and 10-lane intersections. Add that to a wealth of interesting topography and you are bound to have some neighborhoods where driving is a major challenge. I’ve never been more afraid driving in a major urban area than when I got lost heading to Council Crest Park and ended up on some harrowingly narrow and steep streets that cling to the side of the West Hills only because gravity hasn’t quite got around to them yet.

That said, I’ve never had a more insane driving experience than the 3 months my commute took me through the intersection of NE Sandy Blvd. and NE 57th St. As you can see below, this is a misleading description, because it is also the intersection of NE Alameda St. with the above streets. This results in a five-way stop sign-controlled intersection, with an extra junction thrown in just a few hundred yards further up north on Sandy.

Here’s the intersection in question:

Like many older cities, Portland has a few major routes that were laid out long before the street grid. They cut through the city on a diagonal, confusing visitors and making every intersection far more complicated than a standard perpendicular junction. NE Sandy Blvd. is the oldest route from downtown Portland to the Sandy River (hence the name), and creates havoc everywhere it meets a properly laid out street. Getting through the junction of Sandy, Burnside and 12th is a classic rite-of-passage that no one who lived in Portland prior to the Burnside/Couch couplet split in 2011 will ever forget.

Navigating a normal four-way stop in Portland is already a trying experience, as you have a weird mix of super-polite, passive-types and the usual lead-footed, aggressive-types. The extra fifth stop sign and line of cars just throws the already tenuous situation into utter anarchy. At some point, you just hit the gas and navigate the intersection. More often than not, you’ll enter the intersection with at least one other driver, and you’ll have to negotiate with them on the fly. It’s as much fun as it sounds.

While the city had an answer for the Burnside/12th/Sandy intersection, no fix appears to be in the works for Sandy and 57th, although it does sit on the edge of an urban renewal district. I don’t know what the fix would be, but it will likely involve moving NE Alameda out of the intersection, and also possibly signalizing the other two streets. Whatever the city eventually chooses to do, it won’t be a moment too soon for commuters dealing with this disaster on a daily basis.

I know there are many more insane streets in Portlandia. What are your choices for most ridiculous intersection in Portland?