Here in Fort Worth (the city in which I live) preservation was not actually a cool thing until recently. And even now, historic structures can be razed without much consequence. Back when all things "modern" stood for progress, whole sections of this city were destroyed to make way for nondescript buildings or parking lots or garages. Thankfully, those days are now relegated to collective regret. Back in the 1970s, Fort Worth lost some signature structures in the downtown core--most notably The Medical Arts Building. It seems a little strange for someone who moved here in the 1980s to be talking mournfully about buildings that were lost in the 1970s, particularly when I didn't grow up here. But with Fort Worth as my adopted home, I have developed a fondness for this city and an appreciation that perhaps many natives are blind to. Mind you, I don't necessarily believe that living in a particular city or town makes a person insensitive to the necessity of historic preservation, but I can say with some degree of certainty that a different perspective is often helpful when addressing the aesthetics of a place in which one has not lived an entire life. If I pass a particular building every day for 30 years on my way to work, it would certainly strike me if that building were to disappear, but I might actually welcome something new and shiny in its place just to break from the monotony. I might even welcome a blank space rather than a filled space. Regardless, I would definitely have a different perspective than someone who has a fresh view of the scene.
Many folks don't really concern themselves with historic preservation because they feel a type of disconnect from history. Perhaps they don't appreciate history as some of us do or feel that there are more pressing concerns or matters that need to be attended to--not only in their daily lives but also in the larger political sphere. I would really like to suggest that we are all vitally connected to our history, whether we grew up in a certain area or not. I enjoy perusing photographs of historic Fort Worth and often feel that there are not enough available to get an accurate picture of what this city was once like. One thing that I do know is that with each building we allow to fall, an inferior structure or no structure will usually take its place. Craftsmanship that was commonplace at the turn of last century no longer exists. When we lose these buildings, part of us is lost forever. Locally, one only needs a drive down Hemphill or East Lancaster Avenues to imagine (from what few remaining structures exist) a different time...a time when people didn't even know what a "payday loan" or "cash advance" was. There wasn't a convenience store on every corner, but there may have been a "corner store" in just about every neighborhood. I know it sounds a little unrealistic or even romantic, and I'm keenly aware that the "good old days" were definitely not always that. But there was a sense of community. And much of that sense of community existed because we took pride in our architecture.
I applaud all of the efforts of our local historic preservationists. But clearly, we have a long way to go.
(undated postcard of Medical Arts Building, Fort Worth, TX. Wyatt C. Hedrick, architect. Demolished 1973)
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