Another bites the dust

Another historic building has been leveled in Pottsville, this one in the historic Minersville Street area, which had been renamed as Laurel Boulevard in an attempt to become more upscale and fashionable like Knob Hill or Rodeo Drive.
Yes, the building is gone, taken apart board by board. While Pottsville had undergone a feeding frenzy on historic buildings in the past several decades, this latest building to disappear has particularly stunned nearby residents. But at first I thought their concerns were unjustified.

I was told that it was not just a building made of wood and nails. No it was a social and architectural landmark within the city. It harkens one back to the forgotten era when Minersville Street was the social hub of the east coast; back to the gilded age when Pottsville was the center of the booming potato chip industry.
By the Civil War, the potato chip was king in the United States, and Pottsville was the heart of this prosperity. The Union Army needed potato chips and this area would supply them. Soon Victorian mansions sprang up and breweries were built. Potato chips make one thirsty and thereby created the need for beer. Plenty of beer.

Anthracite coal was dug and brought in by railroad to heat the chip ovens, while canal boats would float up the Schuylkill and unload their shipment of lard, salt and, of course potatoes, all to be taken up by mule team to the Potato Chip factory. On the return trip to bring the potato chips from the factory to the markets in far-away London, Paris and Rome, the workingmen would stop and enjoy the cultural delights that the city of Pottsville had to offer.
Did you know that in 1839 there were over 290,600 tons of potato chips that made their way down the canals to the ports in Philadelphia? Most of these were regular potato chips but at least 30,000 tons were of the bar-b-que variety.

Some historians believe that the leveled building (as seen in the photo at the top of this blog) was the long lost potato chip factory and it may have contained some potato chip fossils as well as other artifacts of the Minersville Street era, such as beer bottle caps.
“It was shocking that the building was knocked down without a field team of archeologists being permitted to sweep the floor first” said one self-proclaimed historian, a resident of Laurel Terrace Apartments across the street.

“It is a disgrace that the City permitted it to be torn down. There was so much history there. Young immigrant men were recruited and came from Europe to find employment in the local potato chip industry.”

Again, I thought that these people were wrong. I continued my investigation at the County Historical Society and researched the potato chip industry within the county. Lucky for me the Society had a special exhibit on fast foods eaten by early settlers. While most attention of the exhibit was devoted to the soft pretzel, I did find many learned treatises on potato chips. I sat in the reading room browsing through the dozens of books on the potato chip industry that made Pottsville an economic powerhouse in the 19th century. However I could find nothing on the old maps linking the leveled building to the potato chip industry or the entertainment industry on Minersville Street. The irate populace was misguided. The Marsden potato chip factory was located several blocks to the west. This building was also not a nightclub that World War II servicemen flocked to on weekend forloughs. Pearl Bailey never performed there.

But I was shocked to discover that the building leveled to the ground was indeed historic, but not because of the potato chip. No, it had been the inspiration for German author Herman Hesse when he wrote “Steppenwolf.” It was his so-called Magic Theatre. It was his theatre for madmen only. It was the theatre of the soul. Now it is gone forever.
Where is the Historical Architectural Review Board when we need it? If you come up with an answer, pass me the chips and another cold beer.

The unique architecture of Pottsville

In the summer of 2007 a controversy erupted over the removal of a mural that was located across the street from this building on Laurel Boulevard. The mural was thought to be an eyesore.

“We’re trying to promote a positive atmosphere for our residents and our city,” Housing Authority Director Shields was recently quoted when asked about the mural depicting old Minersville Street that was painted over on Laurel Boulevard.

Mammy Trout was upset about that decision, comparing it to the Taliban's destruction of the buddhist statues in Afghanistan. I thought she was all wet, and I heartily agree with all attempts to eliminate the city’s tainted past. It's the 21st century now and great things are happening all around us. Pottsville is bustling with building activity. Look for yourself; there is a brand spankin’ new parking lot across from the old Moose Building, now the home of the Legacy Bank or whatever name the bank goes by now. I can't keep up with those bank mergers.
Up on Laurel Boulevard there is a building that was constructed a year or two ago that has architects from around the world trying to copy its design. It is the main reason that the old mural just had to come down, as the mural was too distracting.
One local architect was asked to comment on the structure and what it represents to the community. He responded that, “This is the most exuberant art deco building in the city today. The immense use of sky blue plastic on the roof presents a vibrant and sharp image among the many other buildings that line Laurel Boulevard and the historic courthouse area. Equally impressive, however, is the interior which is not open to the public”. He praised the project as a "simple idea, strongly pulled together. It is Pottsville Pride at its best.”

I am still at a loss as to the purpose of the building. Does a family live inside? I keep wondering. Although it received a building permit, no one at the code enforcement office even seems to know the name of this whimsical building, yet alone its purpose. All I know is that it certainly must bring delight to the Housing Authority apartment residents living across the street no longer subjected to looking at the mural. If you are still unaware of the location, the building sits just west of the house with the steep front yard that is covered with stone, which can only be described as a beautiful zen rock garden that the Japanese refer to as "karesansui."
Many are unaware of the presence of this humble wooden structure photographed above, as for years drivers were distracted by the mural of Old Minersville Street. The building appears at times to be an urban mirage. It is a sophisticated gem erected with little fanfare and, as far as I know, no government subsidies. Certainly it is a nice transition from historical to modern, a celebration of both spare materials and the city’s character. After spending a few moments at the site, I feel like yelling out at the top of my lungs, “I love you, Pottsville!” Just one glimpse of the building gives me a much-needed lift, a great relief from those silly murals that clutter Pottsville’s streetscape.

Whoever erected this building is, without a doubt, a genius who combined the old and the new with playful sophistication. I compare the architect to Ayn Rand's Howard Roark, the brilliant idealist who neither pandered to the masses nor compromised his vision. An aesthetic eye is apparent in every intricate detail of this masterpiece. Look carefully at the photographs and now envision yourself entering the stone and dirt courtyard to the left of the building, walking in on a path made of simple planks of wood, stunned by the simplicity of the design. A hip, sky blue plastic top flows down into the earthen piazza as it is was some cosmic carpet from the heavens bringing Zeus himself down to Laurel Boulevard to mingle with you and the other mortals that dwell in the fabled city of Pottsville.
On a closer inspection you will find no windows and only one small door! Yes, it is one of the most ecologically advanced buildings in the city. Hats off to the visionary Planning Commission for allowing such an experimental, yet charming, structure to be built; saving the city enough oil to deep fry thousands of funnel cakes at the American Way Fair every year. Al Gore himself would be as proud of this building as he would of the funnel cakes.
Standing in the front of the building one first takes note of the new “Keep Out” signage next to the green art design. Again, it is certainly a blend of the modern with the primitive, Neanderthal-like cave designs that are found in the caves of our most early ancestors.
I am sure that this architect will have his or her detractors, some saying that it reminds them of the slums outside of Rio, but who can argue with the local materials used– plastic from the old Port Carbon Mirawall factory, tar paper, rusted nails and a spectacular collage of wood. Yes, look closely and the wood that is used does not match. It is a palate of wooden shades, a mix of oak, ginko, chestnut, sycamore, pine and so many other woods, in one grand celebration of the trees of northeast Pennsylvania. The architect is truly a wood nymph and whenever I hear a detractor criticize, I simply yell out three words, “Give us more!”

Eat your heart out Orwigsburg.