This route covers a portion of the Northside area, and much like the recent excursion through Gratz Park, there is plenty of history here and I’ll leave that for people who can speak to it more eloquently. It’s enough for me to feel the weight of hundreds of years, to sense the tremendous change these areas have witnessed.
Relative to that change, there were two amazing things to me. One is that I walked past houses, restaurants, schools, churches, cultural institutions. And this was, relatively speaking, a short walk. In many newer neighborhoods, I can take a longer walk and not pass anything but single-family houses. Some of this is certainly the impact of cars but certainly some of this is inevitable as a city grows. I sense that larger cities have more gravity, too. This seems to be in evidence somewhat as the activity level drops off noticeably between Short and Second street.
This circuit took me to The Gratz Park neighborhood. This area is heavy on history, with such sites as the Hunt-Morgan house, Gratz Park Inn, and Henry Clay law office. Buildings in these older parts of town engage the street on a different level than their suburban analogs. In particular, the buildings themselves feel less private. The buildings are there to be seen by people passing by. Newer houses, businesses, churches are much more utilitarian. Sure, they want to look good but there is more focus on blending in. In suburban neighborhoods, yards seem to be there for the inhabitants of their respective houses, and this makes walking in newer neighborhoods feel somewhat empty. Businesses approach the street differently, too. In the suburbs, streets are functional–their job is to help people get to the door. But here, outdoor seating on the sidewalk, in some cases even extending to “parklets” created from parking spaces along streets, is part of the attraction. This is far more engaging; you buy a drink or a meal and you can become part of the show you are watching. Dining in most contemporary American restaurants is much more private.
WalkLex sign at Second and Jefferson
Since I’m coming back from a bit of a layoff, this is also my first chance to address the Walk Lex signs that were installed earlier this year. These are a nice wayfinding mechanism, and they absolutely highlight the connection between the neighborhoods and landmarks in and around downtown.
Naturally enough, as one gets closer to downtown and into older areas, uses become mixed. Day 61 brings me to the Aylesford area, near Woodland Park and past an eclectic mix of early 1900’s houses, houses converted to apartments, botique-y shops in older buildings, businesses in functional mid-century buildings. There is always a little bit of infill in neighborhoods this old, and it’s hard not to imagine what this area looked like 40 years ago or 70 years ago, especially when you come across street names like “Old Vine”.
Businesses along High street; note parking takes the place of sidewalk.
The amount of surface parking stands out. Since many of the businesses here are niche businesses, there certainly needs to be a way to get people here and cars are filling that need. Maybe what stands out is that, given the creative lean of the business mix, the parking is…inelegant, often carved out in front of businesses and creating a strip-mall feel when this could have been avoided.
Apartment entrance
I was a little disappointed with the lack of vitality, as well. There were bright spots, like the decorated cul-de-sac on Preston (highlighted by the cow skull scarecrow seen above). And maybe it’s unfair to judge the vitality of a commercial district based on a chilly November workday. But a lot of places, businesses, homes, felt like they were kind of phoning it in a little bit. And maybe this is part and parcel of being a car-reliant neighborhood that was not designed for cars; people are moving, but generally from a store or home to a car parked nearby. This means there is with no opportunity for window shopping as you might have along a pedestrian-oriented commercial district, a shopping mall or even a strip mall. The parking requirements displace public space and particularly sidewalks and actively discourage the types of behaviors I expected to see here. There is no reason to adorn houses or yards, either, and houses here feel more introverted than houses befitting typical suburban typologies.
Nonetheless, and even though this area isn’t a destination in the same sense as say, downtown, it still provides a lot to take in, hints of the timbre of the Lexington creative class as well as its history.
