The lunch counter where civil rights protesters engaged in a sit-in to demand integration is long gone, the store has been closed for years, and the building has fallen into disrepair. But the old Read's drugstore at the corner of Howard and Lexington streets made news recently when it appeared that its history as a key site in Baltimore's civil rights struggle — albeit one that had received little public attention — would derail the long-delayed, multimillion-dollar "Superblock" redevelopment that has long been viewed as a catalyst for downtown Baltimore's west side. But the story turns out not to be one of racial insensitivity by out-of-town developers but about the greater tension between preserving a city's unique, historical character and making a downtown viable for 21st century business.
Superblock hits a snag
Our view: West side development should commemorate historic sit-ins, but preservationists need to compromise to breathe new life into the area
Developers of the so-called Superblock, the west side site bounded by Howard, Fayette and Lexington streets and Park Avenue, got a go-ahead from the Maryland Historical Trust in late December for plans to demolish some of the 17 buildings on the site, including Read's, and to renovate others as part of the multi-use, $150 million makeover called Lexington Square, which has been in the works for years.
But no sooner had that approval been announced when objections were raised on several fronts. Some preservation groups, such as Baltimore Heritage, felt the plan razed too many structures. Members of the city's African-American community also objected to the demolition of the Read's, noting that landmark sit-ins held there in 1955 resulted in desegregation of 37 Read's lunch counters throughout Baltimore. These questions led the city Urban Design and Architectural Review Panel to reject the plan.
Those who are now decrying the possible destruction of Read's should have raised their concerns about it during all those years when it was crumbling. As David T. Terry, executive director of the Reginald F. Lewis Museum of Maryland African-American History and Culture and Helena Hicks, a participant in the Read's sit-in, have noted, the civil rights protests in Baltimore became a model for similar activities throughout the United States. The Baltimore sit-ins predated the historic one in Greensboro, N.C., by five years.
One reason the Baltimore sit-ins seem to have slipped from notice is that they were given very little press coverage at the time. The Sun, for instance, gave the integration of the Read's lunch counters a one-paragraph mention in a story about integration efforts throughout the state. The Baltimore Afro-American carried a longer story, but according to Ms. Hicks, it contained some errors. Whatever the reason, it never inspired the kind of civic effort that Greensboro put forth to transform that city's Woolworth's into a museum.
Larry Gibson, a prominent local attorney, is now gathering material for an exhibit at Morgan State University that will chronicle the history of the sit-in and other civil rights actions in Baltimore. African-American leaders have called for a significant commemoration of the event on-site. The developers, a consortium known as Lexington Square Partners that includes an Atlanta firm, Dawson Company, which is owned by African-Americans, appear amenable to that idea. They said they will rework their proposal and want to begin a series of conversations with stakeholders about ways to acknowledge the role in the civil rights struggle that the Read's sit-ins represented. Baltimore needs a proper commemoration of the sit-ins, and it needs the revitalization that the Superblock project would bring. The two should not be mutually exclusive.
But the history that took place at Read's is, in some ways, just a hook for preservationists to wage a larger battle over the character of the redevelopment. Lexington Square Partners contends that to attract so-called junior box stores like Best Buy or Target, they need spaces with wide-open floor plans and large windows, features that many of the Superblock buildings lack. Preservationists counter that saving architectural features — a streetscape of 100-year-old buildings — would give the block a unique appeal.
This clash is increasingly familiar in Baltimore, a city with a lot of old buildings and a hunger for development. The supposed solution for this strife in the case of the Superblock was a 2001 memorandum of understanding that labeled buildings either as ones that must be preserved or should be preserved and gave the Maryland Historical Trust the legal authority to block any plan that did not comply. Recently, the trust gave its approval, with several conditions, to the developers' proposal. The developers now have about six months to finalize plans and obtain the necessary permits from city agencies, among them the Commission on Historic and Architectural Preservation.
There is going to be a lot of back and forth between the developers and the city agencies. As the recent "discovery" of the role of Read's in the civil rights movement showed, history is embedded in the city's west side. The Superblock concept of bringing medium-size retail stores back to the core of the city is a good one, and the Lexington Square Partners plan does make use of the facades or complete structures of several historic buildings, but if the developers and preservationists can find a way to make productive use of more — including a meaningful commemoration of the Read's sit-in — all the better. The developers appear willing to keep working in good faith to do that, and preservationists need to be willing to make compromises as well.
We have to careful what we knock down, but empty commercial buildings, even ones that are beautifully restored, are not what this city needs.
