FOUR WALLS and a foundation are all he needs.
Carl William Struever (everyone calls him Bill) adopts buildings that others have discarded, neglected or marked for destruction. He sees what they want to be, what purpose these abandoned hulks might serve in the communities that surround them. And with single-minded resolve, he helps them fulfill that potential.
You can spot Mr. Struever's work all around Baltimore -- almost anywhere an old warehouse or industrial plant is thriving as a home or an office, a bookstore or a restaurant.
And if you take a step back, you can see his impact. By restoring hope to buildings that everyone else has given up on, he's also helping to restore hope to a city that many people have forsaken.
This year, Mr. Struever's plans to create a "Digital Harbor" started to pay off, bringing high-tech jobs to both sides of Baltimore's harbor, from the American Can Co. in Canton to the newly restored Tide Point, site of the old Procter & Gamble plant.
His achievement has significant implications for Baltimore's waterfront, and by extension, the city. And it is the primary reason we've chosen Mr. Struever, 48, as our Marylander of the Year.
It might be easy to view Mr. Struever as just another of Baltimore's many developers -- a rich guy who makes himself richer by putting up office complexes, stores or housing units.
But that view understates the development challenges Mr. Struever and his partners at Struever Bros., Eccles & Rouse confront without blinking, and the gambles they take in the name of urban revitalization. What they do is all about risks. It's about fighting through setbacks, headaches and environmental and financial constraints to make something work where others have failed.
Anyone can put up an office building on a pristine patch of open land in the suburbs. Not just anyone can bring life to rejected urban relics.
The American Can Co. in Canton is a good example.
It sat unused for nearly three decades and was slated for demolition twice before Mr. Struever got involved.
The site was polluted with lead and oil. The buildings had odd footprints that didn't lend themselves cleanly to modern needs for office space or commercial ventures.
But Mr. Struever saw possibilities. Taking care of the pollution was just a matter of patience and money. And he knew if he could secure historic tax credits for the property -- again, with patience and money -- he could make the numbers work.
