Christmas, 1957 - looking east down Main St. from a fire ladder at Five Points.
(Courtesy Herald-Sun)
E.D. will be taking a break for the holidays, and will resume, at the latest, 1/2/08. Best wishes for a safe and joyful holiday from the entire E.D. family (i.e. GK.)
"Public Welfare" was established in Durham in 1919, after passage of the Public Welfare Law by the NC General Assembly. Prior to that time, 'welfare' (and I'm not sure what it entirely consisted of at that point) was managed by the Salvation Army.
Social service, health, and welfare offices for Durham County became progressively more established over the early-to-mid 20th century. By the 1940s, the health department had been established in the fomer Masonic Lodge on the southeast corner of S. Roxboro and E. Main St. Across the street, to the east of and behind the courthouse, were the welfare offices. The large brick structure in which these were located were likely a former wing of the Hotel Lochmoor, facing East Main St.
Welfare Department, 1950s.
(Courtesy The Herald-Sun)
Looking west from S. Roxboro, Februrary 1955. The east end of Union Station is on the left, the back of the old YMCA on the right.
(Courtesy Durham County Library)
From the back of the Health Department, looking west, April 8, 1955.
(Courtesy Herald-Sun)
Below, a view of the building after the demolition of the main Hotel Lochmoor building and the old YMCA
Looking southwest, early 1960s.
(Courtesy Duke Archives)
This building was demolished in July 1965.
Workers demolishing the builing 07/23/65
(Courtesy Herald Sun)
Looking southwest, 1965.
(Courtesy Durham County Library)
The Durham Social Services building was built on the southwest corner of East Main and Roxboro to replace the Welfare Department in 1965.
Looking west, 2007.
There's been a bit of disconcerting news on the historic planning/policy front recently concerning local landmarks.
For those who aren't familiar with this process, there are generally-speaking, two types of historic designation: national and local. We have both national historic districts and local historic districts in Durham; sometimes these are co-terminus. For instance, Watts-Hillandale is both a national and a local historic district. Trinity Park, which I chided earlier in the week for not being a local district, is a national historic district. Fayetteville St. is the only local district that isn't a national district.
What's the difference? Put simply, national districts are about money, and local districts are about zoning/land use. There are exceptions to this - but too much to go into here. The result is that most cities, including Durham, have more national districts than local.
National districts let you take a tax break for money you put into renovating your house. If you are renovating it for an income-producing purpose (such as a business or apartments) you can recoup 40% of your investment through your taxes (20% Federal, 20% State). If you are doing your owner-occupied home, you can recoup 30% (all state). It is purely an incentive designation - you can still tear down houses a-plenty to warm your tiny Grinch heart in a national district without impediment.
Local historic districts confer no monetary advantage. However, all new construction, many exterior modifications to a 'contributing' structure in the district, and all proposed demolitions must go before a special review board of citizens known as the Historic Preservation Commission (HPC). If they determine the change to be in keeping with the character of the district, you receive a Certificate of Appropriateness (COA) to do the work.
While I've referred to districts thus far (i.e. a quantity of houses/buildings,) individual properties can also be listed on the national register, and they can also receive individual HPC oversight if they are designated a Local Landmark.
Any individual listing - whether national or local - requires that the structure meet a higher bar for importance than a group of houses in a district. I.e. a little mill house could easily make it as part of a larger district, but would be unlikely to be listed/landmarked as an individual.
For the national register, individual listing is exactly the same as district listing - same tax advantages, no local enforcement. For local landmarks (in Durham), though, there is a substantive difference; local landmarks receive a 50% abatement of their property taxes.
That a pretty strong incentive, and it has been given out sparingly. But your major downtown projects all have it. Preservation Durham has at least a partial list here.
The process to become a local landmark is a bit odd; applications are accepted between January and April, the HPC sees applications in October, the apps (as a bunch, if there are a bunch) then go before City Council so they can decide which properties will be made local landmarks.
Funny thing, this year. Well, not really that funny.
This year, the applications went to the HPC on October 2nd. The historic preservation planner was to send them to the State Historic Preservation Office (SHPO) soon thereafter so that a staff person could review the applications and provide comments within thirty days of receipt (as is required in the state enabling legislation).
Apparently, the landmark applications were sent to the SHPO, but never arrived. This was not discovered by the historic preservation planner until earlier this month when a fragment of the envelope that contained the applications was returned to the City with a note from the postal service that the package had been eaten by some sort of machine. There were ten applications.
There was insufficient time to review the applications at that point, even hand-delivered by the preservation planner. The city council pulled the items from the agenda, and those cases will need to wait a year to be assessed.
Evidently, though, the city council used the opportunity to question the policy - why give any tax abatement? Can we designate landmarks without this? Should houses be eligible? Can we raise the bar even further? The majority of council, per hearsay, seemed to be leaning towards denying the applications anyway.
I think it would be short-sighted to do away with the property tax abatement. While it is true that projects such as American Tobacco and Liggett will theoretically produce less property tax revenue for the city than they could have, the success of those projects depends on incentives such as these. Revitalizing historic properties is not for the faint of heart, particularly on that scale, but also on a smaller scale.
In fact, I would advocate for policy to move in the opposite direction - provide some degree of property tax abatement for all contributing structures in a local district. It doesn't have to be 50%, but even 10% might change the minds of people hesitant to designate their neighborhoods as local districts because they are afraid they won't be able to, in theory, do some crazy stuff to the front of their house.
But even more salient is the concern some people have that historic districts promote 'gentrification' by requiring more costly repairs to houses, and promoting renovation. What better way to mitigate this possibility?
I'd urge the council to improve this process - the penalty to people/companies who put effort into this is pretty strong, through no fault of their own - in part because of this one-time-a-year-at-the-end-of-the-year thing. But more broadly, council should consider strengthening incentives for historic preservation at the local level, rather than diminishing them. We can certainly ill-afford disincentives to preservation in Durham.
Looking southwest near the intersection of E. Peabody and S. Roxboro (actually closer to Pine St., which did not originally line up with Roxboro, but terminated at the tracks just a bit further east,) !890.
(Courtesy Duke Archives)
The Durham Electric Lighting Company was Durham's first electricity provider, organized in 1885 by Julian Carr, Eugene Morehead, and George Watts. The City of Durham granted the company the right of exclusive provider of electricity to the city with a 15 year 'franchise".
The powerhouse was located at Peabody and Roxboro Sts., pictured above.
The company began by providing street lighting, but by 1888 had begun supplying electricity to homes and businesses as well. Most notably, Julian Carr's Somerset Villa had a cornucopia of early electric embellishments.
Jean Anderson recounts that the company tried to increase its profit by only supplying electricity on moonless nights, which caused disagreement with the city.
In 1899, the company suffered a major setback when their power plant exploded.
Looking north from near Pine and Peabody, 1899.
(Courtesy Duke Archives)
The company was bought by the Durham Traction Company in 1901 (the operator of the trolley system) which was headed by RH Wright and Julian Carr. They were soon in competition with another power company, Durham Light and Power, but they forged an agreement that Durham Traction would supply electricity, Light and Power would supply gas.
By 1905, BN Duke incorporated the Southern Power Company, which by 1914 would come into Durham. The Durham Traction Company was sold off to investors, and the Southern Power Company (which became Duke Power) had the playing field to itself.
As to this location, it was never again used for a building, sitting idle until it became parking for the Masonic Temple, and, eventually a parking deck for Durham County. By the 1970s, the Peabody St. intersection with Roxboro was eliminated in favor of the overpass connecting Ramseur with the downtown loop.
Looking east, 2007.
State Theater, 1937.
The State Theater was established at 306 East Main St. sometime in the late 1920s or early 1930s.
A night view of the theater shows a bit of the somewhat Spanish Revival style structure, with its patterned brick facade and tile above the marquee.
(Courtesy Library of Congress)
Looking west from the front of the theater, late 1930s.
The view of the theater, changed to the Russell, in 1939-1940.
In 1949, the theater became the Astor Theater. According to "Durham and Her People" the theater was "the first to show foreign language films in the Carolinas [and] cooperates with all local colleges and schools in presenting its program."
I'm not sure when the theater closed, but by the 1980s, it had become the "River of Life" church.
Looking southeaast, 1986.
This building was still standing up until a few years ago; when the county (which owned the building at that point) decided to put this and the Eligibility building on the market, it demolished the structures (which had pretty bad roof damage.) It was sold with the Eligibility Building to David Revere.
306 E. Main, 2007.
Made a pass by Watts St. this weekend to take some pictures of the Sweaney house, moved from the corner of Buchanan and W. Main to make room for the Trinity Park Motel, but now fixed up and on the market for a cool $835K; an open house had cars lining the 1000 block of Watts St.
While I was prepared to comment on how how you should be able to buy real window muntins for $835K, I quickly became more interested in the lot next door, which has been graded and had footers poured for an infill piece of undoubtedly swank-tastic real estate.
But wait, wasn't that piece of land an old cemetery?
You couldn't really tell from the previously wooded appearance of the lot:
But, why, yes it was. Even noted on the tax record.
Hmm - what's that at the back of the lot?
Oh, right.
Your standard pile of headstones.
I wonder how ---cy E. Chamblee would have felt about this?
Or the rest of the family?
But the homeowner shouldn't have to worry about ---cy and the rest of the gang going all Amityville Horror on them - I don't think they are on-premise anymore.
So rest, uh, peacefully, in your sepulchre of granite...countertops. 
Seriously, TP folk, don't you think this avoidance of local historic district designation has gone on long enough? Are you just going to keeping inching your way towards architectural/historical mediocrity demolished-building-by-demolished-building? Or will you just go towards overt disdain for history like this? Probably would have been good to have this come before the Historic Preservation Commission, don't you think?
Update, October 2009:
Nancy Chamblee, your house to haunt has arrived:
1009 Watts St., 10.03.09
The downtown master plan has been released, and is available from the DDI website. I read a draft version about 2 weeks ago, but haven't had a chance to read the final. My overall impression on the first read was that it is a good document, although I felt the specifics on how to improve the loop was fairly milquetoast, treating the noose as more of a conundrum than I think it is. But it does clearly acknowledge the need to change the loop, and lays out a few stratgeies to do so. It also clearly focuses on those darned surface lots as a problem associated with the loop, which I think is progress.
I also thought the east side of downtown (east of Roxboro) received short shrift, including the Northeast Nexus at Roxboro, Cleveland, Holloway, etc. that presents one of the most vexing transportation / land use problems downtown, in my opinion. The document tends to present 'potential development sites' in the body, while leaving specific strategy to the "focus areas". It would have been good to have a focus area east of Roxboro.
But the plan did focus on interconnections between downtown and the west/southwest/north, which I think was needed - singling out car dealerships, the southbank building, The Oprah, and other spots as areas in need of some positive change. On the east side, it did hit on the surface lot at Church and Parrish.
More once I get a chance to sit down and read through the final again.
Click here to download the plan from DDI
Looking northeast, 1937.
The 200 block of North Roxboro was residential well into the mid-20th century - the Afton Inn was a large rooming/boarding house ("one of the better known in Durham" according to Wyatt Dixon) in this block, seen on the right with a two-story wrap-around porch.
Looking northeast, 1950s. The intersection of Roxboro and Main is in the right foreground. Moving north, the large Afton Inn can be seen on the right side of the street, with three other sizable houses just to its north in the 200 block. The large houses on Liberty St. can be seen stretching from there to the east.
(Courtesy Herald Sun)
The Afton Inn was torn down in the late 1950s or early 1960s.
Probably looking west at the rear of the house, per Wyatt Dixon. I can't quite put this photo together with the photos above, though; it wouldn't be the first mis-labeled W.D. photo I've run across, so I think this is the rear of the house.
(Courtesy Duke Archives)
This land, after demolition of the remaining houses, became a parking lot for the First Presbyterian Church.
Looking southeast, 1963. Another lost structure - the old First Presbyterian Church ? educational building - lies in rubble.
(Courtesy Durham County Library)
It remains a parking lot today, and is far too empty most of the time, particularly for an entire block-face. It contributes to the emptiness of the too-wide one-way Roxboro here, making the scene even more barren.
Looking east-southeast, 2007.
Although rarely mentioned alongside the "Big Four" churches downtown, the Primitive Baptists were here quite early - forming a congregation in 1885 under the leadership of TY Monk. Per Boyd, the majority of the members came from the Eno and Mt. Lebanon churches in Durham County. They established their church near the intersection of Cleveland and Liberty Streets, directly across Cleveland St. from Durham Methodist, later Trinity Methodist Church.
No. 11 on the 1891 Bird's Eye
(Courtesy Duke Archives)
Everything I know about Primitive Baptists I learned in the last 5 minutes from Wikipedia; as with anything wikipedian, caveat emptor. But the name is, of course, intriguing - and seems to derive from a sense of primitive as 'original' rather than the connotation we might leap to.
It appears that an early frame chuch was replaced with a cruciform brick church by the early 20th century.
Looking east, 1938. The church is the cruciform structure just 'above' (beyond) Trinity Methodist.
(Courtesy Duke Archives)
Looking northeast, 1960
(Courtesy Duke Archives)
The first actual street-level picture I have of the church is from 1966. 
Looking east, 1966.
Urban renewal took down this building around 1970.
Looking east from 'Cleveland and Liberty', 2007.
The south side of the 300 block of Liberty St. had, much like the 100 block of North Queen St., succumbed to some decay and commercial creep by the mid-1960s. Only two of the once continuous row of large homes remained in January 1966.
Moving east to west.
318 Liberty
310-312 Liberty
308 Liberty
208 North Roxboro
The remainder of these houses, and the gas station, were demolished by the city using urban renewal funds.
Looking southeast from N. Roxboro and Liberty, 2007.
While the trees around the church (daycare?) playground are pleasant, the vast majority of this frontage is just (seemingly perpetually) empty surface parking. This block face is a significant contributor to the desolation one feels when walking on the east side of downtown.
Looking west from the intersection of N. Queen and E. Main (in the foreground), 1940.
This blurry shot gives a sense of the pattern of houses on the west side of the 100 block of N. Queen St., typically large houses, somewhat less grand than those that once existed along East Main (a few of which are still visible in this view.)
There are no good individual views of the east side of the street - the only glimpses come from the background of St. Philip's shots.
A view of the 1908 church entrance, looking northwest (which shows a residential structure on Queen St. in the background)
(Courtesy St. Philip's Archives)
Looking east-northeast, 1950s with the same residential structure to the left.
(Courtesy Herald-Sun)
It appears that the structures on the east side were likely taken down by St. Philip's in the 1960s.
On the west side of the street, by 1966, when I have individual pictures of the properties, the commercial encroachment from East Main had already begun to change this neighborhood.
Moving south to north, 1966.
107 N. Queen, by its style, one of the first wave of housing built here - likely 1880s.
A former house at 109 N. Queen.
Another former house at 111 and 113 N. Queen.
115 N. Queen
117 N. Queen (corner of Liberty and Queen.)
Urban renewal took this struggling old neighborhood behind the barn and shot it. This area became surface parking, eventually for the county.
Looking southwest, summer 2007.
I've envisioned previously how Durham County could do good things with this vast waste of space. The current plan is to build a parking deck here, someday. One hopes that parking deck will be wrapped with retail frontage, but I'm not sure the county sees good urban design as part of its purvey. But in this big land parcel lies the oh-so-important opportunity to help bridge the gap between Roxboro and Golden Belt/Hosiery Mills/HOPE VI. Let's hope the county can see their way to make the best of it.
Today will continue the theme of how I would have liked to have lived on Liberty St. once-upon-a-time. Until the late 60s, anyway.
Moving west to east, November 1963
303 Liberty
305 Liberty
307 Liberty
309 Liberty
311 Liberty
313 Liberty
315 Liberty
317 Liberty
319 Liberty
You guessed it. The city of Durham declared these houses blighted - a menace to society, really, and tore them all down.
It was a campaign for more modern, healthy and 'efficient' housing that would save Durham, provide economic opportunity for the shopping malls to locate downtown and thus - preserve - downtown Durham as place-of-importance. It would create wealth and opportunity as downtown was remade to look - well, like the suburbs. The east side of town, Hayti, the West End - places that people with money had left years before, or never cared much about in the first place - these were designated the blank canvas for the idealistic vision of a new Durham. But it wasn't to be callous - the poor would be saved from rooming houses and blight and provided modern housing in projects like the Liberty St. apartments, Few Gardens, and McDougald Terrace. That was what was best for them.
As for this spot, it would be the new modern library.
Looking north, 1976.
Looking north, 2007.
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