Monastery at Large

From the Notebook

  • Paul Romare (1828-1904)

    The Background

    The following autobiographical account was written by Paul Romare (1828-1904, pictured here) of Atlanta and published in 1892-93.

    Romare was born in Sweden and raised in a working-class family, but later became an American citizen and one of Atlanta’s most prominent social figures, serving nearly 40 years at the Atlanta National Bank.

    At the time he wrote this sketch, Romare was employed as the bank’s vice president, but was appointed president in 1903. When he died just a year later, it was reported that “no one had more friends than he.”1

    Romare’s story provides a fascinating glimpse into his circuitous journey to the Deep South, an uncommon destination for Swedish immigrants in the 19th century.

    The story is particularly interesting because of the many parallels between Romare’s life and that of his younger friend and fellow Swede, G.L. Norrman, whose own coy autobiographical sketch a few years later was much less revealing.

    I kinda wish Norrman had taken a cue from Romare and shared more details of his early life, but alas, the enduring mystery of the man is part of his appeal.

    Mr. Paul Romare.

    Paul Romare, Vice-President of the Atlanta National Bank, whose history being somewhat out of the usual line, may prove a matter of interest to his many friends and the readers of these pages. We give his life and life work in his own words:

    I am a Swede, born on the shores of the Cattegat, in the town of Tonkon, Province of Skane, Sweden, November 20, 1928.

    I was the youngest of five children, three brothers and one sister. From the age of six to fourteen I attended the village school, where I obtained a knowledge of arithmetic, geography, and history. At fourteen I left school and began life in earnest. My father, Paulus Romare, was Captain of a merchant ship for over thirty years. Too young to launch out for myself, I went with him as cabin boy to New York in 1843.

    Of course the impressions of this first sight of America and an American city were not only deep but naturally enchanting to a young lad such as I was. None but a foreigner can appreciate the newness and beauty of a place like New York, and right then I felt that at some time this to me new world must and should furnish a home.

    Of course I returned with my father in Sweden, and remained at home one summer. The next fall I sailed again as cabin boy with an older brother, who was the Captain of a ship. We sailed from Stockholm to Marseilles, returning home in the summer of ’45. That same summer I sailed again with a friend of my father’s for the Island of Java, touching Cape of Good Hope going and returning.

    Resting a while in Stockholm I sailed with the same Captain for New York once more, and from New York to Rotterdam, Holland. While in this city the First Mate left the ship and I was given his position at the age of eighteen. However, by this time I had considerable acquaintance with the sea and sea-faring, and had gathered some knowledge of navigation from my father, brother, and present Captain. We returned to America, visiting Philadelphia and New York, and while in this city that had for me so many charms an incident occurred which changed my future and indeed my entire life. My Captain and I had a quarrel, and vowed I would never return with him to Sweden. Of course I kept my decision a secret for prudential motives.

    Of course I ran considerable risk, but I went at once to see a friend, a Swede who live in New York for some years. I told him I was determined to remain in America. He promised to come to our ship that night in a boat and help me off. Like a true Swede, he kept his word, and I was soon securely hid in his home.

    Just at this time, unfortunately for me, my brother’s ship was in the harbor of New York ready for sea. He was duly notified by the Captain of my escapade. He hastened to our mutual friend, feeling sure he knew of my whereabouts. I heard him coming; I knew his step. A closet being near, I opened the door, went in and was secure and out of sight. I could even hear his voice and what he said. My friend was astonished at my leaving; it was all news to him. I knew from what my brother said he did not believe one word, but seeing search in vain he left, and before next morning he was far out on the Atlantic. The ship I had so hastily abandoned also left in a day or two.

    Left now absolutely master of myself and fortune at the mature age of eighteen, a stranger in a strange land, not one word of English at my command, I began to turn my thoughts to the serious side of my situation. That America was to be the home of my adoption was absolutely decided. That a knowledge of the English language was absolutely necessary to my progress in the new home was also decided. What to do while gaining that knowledge was the next serious question. This last query was soon settled by my shipping on an American brig as a sailor, bound for Mobile. On that trip I took my first lessons in English. On the vogage I found Dana‘s “Two Years Before the Mast.” Being far more familiar with the sea than I was with the land, the book naturally caught my fancy, being the plain and simple experience of a man who was two years before the mast. How I read it, now after the lapse of so many years, I cannot tell, but that I did read it and enjoyed it I am certain. Having no one near me who knew one word of my native tongue, I soon from sheer necessity had quite a vocabulary at my command.

    I made various trips after this, crossing the Atlantic at least a dozen times; also had two or three trips to the West Indies and Mexico–on one of these trips taking army supplies to troops in Mexico. My last trip was from Charleston to Havana and back to Charleston, and in this city I was attacked with rheumatism, upon which my slight misfortune hinged my future plans.

    One summer day, stopping at a cigar store on Broad street, I met a gentleman, a Swede, who had recently purchased large interests in the iron works at Cooperville, South Carolina. I had seen him before, and being countrymen, we were mutually drawn to each other. Approaching me, he said in Swedish, “Come, go with me to the iron works; you will soon get well, and I am in need of an interpreter. I cannot speak English, and I need a good man who can help me manage the business. I decided to go, and at the iron works took my first lessons in native business, first clerking at the supply store and then keeping books for the company. I was there from 1850 to 1854. It was then a prosperous concern, working about three hundred hands and manufacturing pig iron, bar iron, and hollow-ware.

    In the summer of 1854, having laid aside some money, I resolved to see my native land once more. I left New York the last of April and reached my old home on Sunday, May 15. I notified no one of my coming. Reaching our house I rang the bell, asking for Captain Romare. My father did not know me, but in a little while all the household gathered to rejoice over the long lost and long regretted.

    After a most delightful visit I returned to the home of my adoption. That fall I accepted a position in the Bank of Chester from the President, Mr. George S. Cameron, who was a friend of mine as long as he lived. I remained in Chester till the commencement of the war, when I enlisted with the old Chester Blues, the first company that left our place. I remained with that company till I was detailed for service in the War Department at Richmond, and was there till the evacuation, when I left with the retreating army, and in a few weeks the surrender at Appomattox ended the struggle.

    In 1863, I was married in Grace Church, Camden, to Miss Lucy Fisher. I returned to Camden, and in the fall came to Atlanta to accept a position in the Atlanta National Bank, offered by my old and true friend, George S. Cameron, who with General Alfred Austell were the founders of that bank immediately after the war. I may mention that I received the first deposit ever made in that bank.

    The rise, success, and prosperity of the institution are too well-known to be repeated. My life and life-work I may truly say has been here. For more than a quarter of a century my days have been spent in this bank, and to it has been given my best of life and time. Those who began here when I did are few indeed. I may say that I am the only one of the original officers and stockholders that is still interested in the bank.

    I have made my home in Atlanta; here I expect to spend the rest of my life, and departing bequeath to this city and her people my fondest wishes and blessings.2

    References

    1. “Paul Romare, Banker, Dead.” The Americus Times-Recorder, February 9, 1904, p. 1. ↩︎
    2. City of Atlanta: A Descriptive, Historical and Industrial Review. Louisville, Kentucky: The Inter-State Publishing Company, 1892-93, pp. 74-75. ↩︎

  • Bunger-Henry Building (1964) – Atlanta

    Finch, Alexander, Barnes, Rothschild & Paschal (FABRAP). Bunger-Henry Chemical Engineering and Ceramics Engineering Building (1964). Georgia Institute of Technology, Atlanta.1 2
    Windows on the Bunger-Henry Building
    Sun screens on the Bunger-Henry Building
    Looking at the Bunger-Henry Building from the southeast

    References

    1. Georgia Institute of Technology Campus Historic Preservation Plan Update, 2023 ↩︎
    2. Craig, Robert M. Georgia Tech: Campus Architecture. Charleston, South Carolina: Arcadia Publishing (2021). ↩︎

  • Faint

    Sometimes late at night
    Or very early in the morning
    In that twilight between sleep and waking
    I hear the faintest little signals —
    Transmissions from some place close,
    Yet I can never trace their origin.
    It doesn’t happen very often:
    There’s usually too much noise.

    If I could shut up the world, I would —
    I’m tired of hearing our words.
    Years of yapping have yielded nothing
    But spectacle and heartache.
    It’s time to close our nasty mouths
    And seek shelter in quietness;
    To commune in solace,
    And listen to the wisdom of silence.

  • Jefferson-Pilot Building (1990) – Greensboro, North Carolina

    Smallwood, Reynolds, Stewart & Stewart. Jefferson-Pilot Building (1990). Greensboro, North Carolina.1 2 3

    References

    1. Schlosser, Jim. “Building designers to draw from past”. Greensboro News & Record (Greensboro, North Carolina), February 26, 1988, p. A12. ↩︎
    2. Schlosser, Jim. “Jefferson-Pilot building provides another trade-off”. Greensboro News & Record (Greensboro, North Carolina), July 3, 1988, p. D1. ↩︎
    3. Hopper, Kathryn. “New Jefferson-Pilot building officially a part of downtown”. Greensboro News & Record (Greensboro, North Carolina), July 22, 1990, p. D1. ↩︎

  • Kiser Law Building (1891-1936) – Atlanta

    Bruce & Morgan. Kiser Law Building (1891-1936). Atlanta.1

    The Background

    The following article, published in The Atlanta Constitution in 1890, includes an illustration and a brief description of the Kiser Law Building, completed in 1891 and designed by Bruce & Morgan.

    Located at the northwest corner of Hunter and Pryor Streets (later Martin Luther King, Jr. Drive SE and Pryor Street SE) in Atlanta, the five-story office building was owned by M.C. Kiser, a local real estate developer.

    Location of Kiser Law Building

    Members of the Atlanta Bar Association had reportedly approached Kiser for several years with requests for him to build a structure designed exclusively for law offices.2 3

    When Kiser finally agreed to the project, the association formed a building committee that considered two designs for the structure: one by A.Mc.C. Nixon, and the winning plan by Bruce & Morgan.4 5

    Bruce’s Approach

    Although T.H. Morgan increasingly became the primary designer for Bruce & Morgan through the 1890s, A.C. Bruce still handled the majority of the firm’s output in the early part of the decade, and the Kiser Law Building appears to have been his design.

    Bruce was a former cabinet maker and carpenter who lacked formal architectural training, and by 1890, the limits of his skill set were becoming readily apparent.

    Many of Bruce’s designs from the early 1890s appear heavy-handed and anachronistic: you can see he was attempting to adapt to modern tastes, but his design sensibility was still fundamentally stuck in the 1870s — the Kiser Law Building was a prime example.

    Looking at the illustration above, the building resembles a stack of drawers haphazardly piled on top of each other, and oversized windows of varying shapes and sizes junk up both facades.

    That additive approach to design was typical of architects with a background in carpentry, who often designed buildings as if they were giant pieces of furniture, joining disparate elements and tacking on unnecessary embellishments instead of envisioning their compositions as solid masses to be sculpted into form.

    The building’s overall style is equally baffling: Bruce was presumably aiming for the Romanesque, but for all the eclectic adornments, including terra cotta trim,6 7a decorative slate roof with iron crestings, ornamental iron balconies, and marble columns,8 he didn’t quite achieve a cohesive style. The pyramidal peaks and elaborate gables were also becoming rapidly outdated by 1891.

    Kiser Law Building circa 1936

    Design and Construction

    As construction began, it was reported that the Kiser Law Building would be constructed of either Berea sandstone or marble.9 It’s Atlanta, so it appears they opted for the cheaper sandstone for most of the structure and incorporated marble trim around the entrance.10

    Set over a full basement, the building’s five floors included a 16-foot-wide central hall, served by one elevator, four stairwells, and two fire escapes. A light court was also designed to extend from the top to the bottom floor, so that each of the building’s 84 offices would be lighted and ventilated from the outside.11

    The building was illuminated with electric lighting and included “water closets of the latest patterns…located in the rear [heh] of every floor.12

    While it was originally reported that the building would be heated by steam,13 14 Kiser ultimately chose the Bolton Hot Water System, which was marketed as a “purely scientific, healthful way of heating.”15

    I don’t really care enough about such things to learn more; however, the man who supervised the heating system’s installation told the Constitution: “…the larger buildings in the north have been heated by hot water apparatuses for the last ten or twelve years, yet it is practically new for the south…”16

    No surprise, really: Atlanta’s self-conscious developers are always late to the game, simply replicating what was done a decade ago in the better cities of the North.

    The floors of the Kiser Law Building were planned as follows:

    • The ground floor included spaces for four stores — the storefront at the corner of Hunter and Pryor was designated for a bank,17 and another space facing Pryor Street was planned as a restaurant.18 The entrance hallway featured marble wainscoting and tile19 and led to “four broad stairways” and “an elevator of the most approved pattern.”20
    • The second, third, and fourth floors were identical in design, and each contained 28 office suites — 14 on each side of the central hall. The offices were finished in hardwoods and Georgia pine, with fireproof vaults and closets.21 22
    • The fifth floor was intended to house two large halls “suited to the use of secret societies, public meetings and other similar purposes,”23 as well as a kitchen, storerooms, reception room, and a club room or library.24

    Construction on the building began on April 8, 1890,25 with J.H. Matthews,26 “a wide-awake contractor”,27 supervising the project. The initial estimated cost of the building was $90,000, with a projected completion date of April 1, 1891.28 The cost rose to $100,000 by 1891,29 and the building was completed in August 1891.30 31

    Local interest in the project was high, and while construction was still underway in November 1890, Kiser had reportedly received applications from 100 lawyers seeking office space.32

    Firms began announcing their intention to move to the building in early 1891,33 and in June 1891, George W. Adair, who handled leasing for the property, reported: “The Kiser law building is nearly ready for occupancy, which is good news to those who have already selected their rooms, and others that are waiting for its completion.”34

    Their lease agreements should have included the following caveat: the only thing slimier than a lawyer is an Atlanta developer.

    The Terminal Debacle

    In July 1891, Kiser leased nearly the entire law building — including the top four floors, the corner store on the ground floor, and the full basement35 36 — to a single firm: the Richmond Terminal Company, which had abruptly decided to relocate its headquarters from Washington, D.C. to Atlanta.37

    The company stated its intention to use the Kiser Building as temporary office space until it could build its own facility in the city,38 signing a two-year lease for the then-unheard-of sum (in Atlanta anyway) of $14,500 a year.39 40

    Commonly referred to as the “Terminal”, the company had previously purchased the Central Railroad and Banking Company, Georgia’s oldest railroad,41 based in Savannah. The Terminal’s new Atlanta headquarters consolidated the employees from both Savannah and Washington in a single location.

    However, the Kiser Building was much too small to house the Terminal’s 250 to 300 workers,42 43 and one executive stated, “Unfortunately that building is not large enough to fully accommodate all the offices, but we will try to make do.” Kiser said of the negotiation: “…the trouble was they wanted more room, but finally concluded they could get along by adding the corner room and the basement.”44

    The Terminal’s hasty relocation to Atlanta was more than a little suspicious, and there were allegations that it wasn’t “bona fide”, which the company denied.45 Atlanta’s newspapers, of course, hailed the move, with the always-bloviating Constitution prognosticating:

    “A grand new depot and office building. That is the inevitable result.

    The bringing of these offices to Atlanta is a bigger thing than might appear at first glance. This naturally makes Atlanta the center of the railroad situation of the south, and, as Atlanta is now the insurance center, it becomes beyond question the financial center of the south.”46

    The lawyers who already selected offices in the Kiser Building just had to suck it, I guess. The Odd Fellows probably weren’t too thrilled either: the Constitution reported in July 1891 that “about ten days ago they selected the fifth floor of the Kiser building and immediately rented it as an Odd Fellows’ hall. Then the Terminal people came along and wished the place.”47

    Anyone who knows how shit goes down in Atlanta could guess what happened next: Just six months after the Terminal employees began working in the Kiser building, the Central Railroad was forced into receivership by a local judge.48 49

    Rumors of the Terminal’s financial difficulties and potential bankruptcy had swirled around Atlanta for months, spurred by the resignations of top executives and directors who had reportedly been battling for control of the company.50 51

    There was also the time in January 1892, when the company apparently lacked the funds to pay its employees, delaying their paychecks for more than a week,52 53 54 55 a situation charitably described as “embarrassing.”56

    The final blow was delivered in a lawsuit filed by a stockholder against the company, alleging that, among other things, the Terminal’s owners were conspiring to transfer $500,000,000 in debt onto the Central Railroad, “which it [could] never pay,”57 58 presumably with the intent to bankrupt it. Sounds like business as usual for an American enterprise.

    Under the rules of the receivership, the Central Railroad’s 74 employees59 returned to Savannah,60 61 and while it initially appeared that the remaining Terminal employees would stay in Atlanta, they were ordered back to Washington in June 1892, leaving the Kiser Building nearly vacant.62 63The company hired George W. Adair to sublet the building,64 which was filled with lawyers as originally planned.65

    The Inevitable Demise

    Office structures tend to fall out of fashion quickly, and in 1930, the Journal said of the Kiser Law Building: “…the lawyers, loan brokers, and trade representatives [have] shifted to more modernly equipped buildings…”, noting that, “storms of nearly half a century have raised havoc with the structure and its artistic domes, its oriel windows, and its ornamental trimmings.”66

    By 1936, the Kiser Law Building was reportedly “almost empty except for a store or two on the sidewalk.”67 No one seemed too upset when the structure was demolished in November and December 1936 for — take a wild guess — a parking lot.68 69 70

    The Article

    Major M.C. Kiser’s “Law Building” will be one of the handsomest buildings in the south, and when finished will be one of Atlanta’s greatest attractions.

    The Constitution gives here an excellent cut of the building, made from the drawings of Bruce & Morgan, the architects. The uses to which the building are to be put have been fully explained in these columns.

    The building will be erected at the corner of Pryor and Hunter streets, fronting on Pryor, and will be five stories in height. It will be devoted to offices for lawyers, with clubrooms for a Lawyers’ club. It will be just as complete as possible, an ideal building in every respect.71

    References

    1. Illustration credit: Atlanta in 1890: “The Gate City”. Atlanta: The Atlanta Historical Society, Inc. (1986), p. 62. ↩︎
    2. “The Kiser Building”. The Atlanta Constitution, January 26, 1890, p. 19. ↩︎
    3. “Kiser’s Law Building.” The Atlanta Constitution, April 8, 1890, p. 7. ↩︎
    4. “The Kiser Building”. The Atlanta Constitution, January 26, 1890, p. 19. ↩︎
    5. “Kiser’s Law Building.” The Atlanta Constitution, April 8, 1890, p. 7. ↩︎
    6. “The Kiser Building”. The Atlanta Constitution, January 26, 1890, p. 19. ↩︎
    7. “History In Clay.” The Atlanta Constitution, May 15, 1892, p. 3. ↩︎
    8. “Kiser’s Law Building.” The Atlanta Constitution, April 8, 1890, p. 7. ↩︎
    9. “Kiser’s Law Building.” The Atlanta Constitution, April 8, 1890, p. 7. ↩︎
    10. “The Kiser Building”. The Atlanta Constitution, January 26, 1890, p. 19. ↩︎
    11. “Kiser’s Law Building.” The Atlanta Constitution, April 8, 1890, p. 7. ↩︎
    12. ibid. ↩︎
    13. “The Kiser Building”. The Atlanta Constitution, January 26, 1890, p. 19. ↩︎
    14. “Kiser’s Law Building.” The Atlanta Constitution, April 8, 1890, p. 7. ↩︎
    15. “Kiser Building.” The Atlanta Constitution, September 6, 1891, p. 3. ↩︎
    16. ibid. ↩︎
    17. “Kiser’s Law Building.” The Atlanta Constitution, April 8, 1890, p. 7. ↩︎
    18. “The Kiser Building”. The Atlanta Journal, November 29, 1890, p. 5. ↩︎
    19. “The Kiser Building”. The Atlanta Constitution, January 26, 1890, p. 19. ↩︎
    20. “Kiser’s Law Building.” The Atlanta Constitution, April 8, 1890, p. 7. ↩︎
    21. “The Kiser Building”. The Atlanta Constitution, January 26, 1890, p. 19. ↩︎
    22. “Kiser’s Law Building.” The Atlanta Constitution, April 8, 1890, p. 7. ↩︎
    23. ibid. ↩︎
    24. “The Kiser Building”. The Atlanta Constitution, January 26, 1890, p. 19. ↩︎
    25. “Kiser’s Law Building.” The Atlanta Constitution, April 8, 1890, p. 7. ↩︎
    26. “Atlanta Building Up.” The Atlanta Constitution, October 3, 1890, p. 3. ↩︎
    27. “A Hoisting Elevator.” The Atlanta Journal, November 11, 1890, p. 1. ↩︎
    28. “Kiser’s Law Building.” The Atlanta Constitution, April 8, 1890, p. 7. ↩︎
    29. “Etched and Sketched.” The Atlanta Constitution, July 30, 1891, p. 4. ↩︎
    30. “Railroad Notes.” The Atlanta Constitution, August 16, 1891, p. 19. ↩︎
    31. “They Are Here.” The Atlanta Constitution, August 24, 1891, p. 4. ↩︎
    32. “The Kiser Building”. The Atlanta Journal, November 29, 1890, p. 5. ↩︎
    33. “Land Titles.” The Atlanta Journal, April 30, 1891, p. 7. ↩︎
    34. “FOR RENT — Houses, Cottages, Etc.” The Atlanta Constitution, June 28, 1891, p. 10. ↩︎
    35. “The Kiser Building”. The Atlanta Constitution, July 23, 1891, p. 4. ↩︎
    36. “Terminal Offices In The Kiser Block.” The Atlanta Constitution, July 24, 1891, p. 2. ↩︎
    37. “The General Offices”. The Atlanta Constitution, July 22, 1891, p. 7. ↩︎
    38. ibid. ↩︎
    39. “Terminal Offices In The Kiser Block.” The Atlanta Constitution, July 24, 1891, p. 2. ↩︎
    40. “Then And Now.” The Atlanta Constitution, July 28, 1891, p. 5. ↩︎
    41. “The Central’s Fate.” The Atlanta Constitution, March 5, 1892, p. 1. ↩︎
    42. “To Move Their Offices.” The Atlanta Journal, June 17, 1892, p. 3. ↩︎
    43. “Fleming Out.” The Atlanta Constitution, July 25, 1892, p. 3. ↩︎
    44. “Terminal Offices In The Kiser Block.” The Atlanta Constitution, July 24, 1891, p. 2. ↩︎
    45. ibid. ↩︎
    46. ibid. ↩︎
    47. “Might Have Interrupted Their Plans.” The Atlanta Constitution, July 26, 1891, p. 15. ↩︎
    48. “A Receiver!” The Atlanta Journal, March 4, 1892, p. 1. ↩︎
    49. “The Central’s Fate.” The Atlanta Constitution, March 5, 1892, p. 1. ↩︎
    50. “Changes In The Terminal.” The Macon Telegraph (Macon, Georgia), January 5, 1892, p. 1. ↩︎
    51. “The Complete Story”. The Atlanta Constitution, January 6, 1892, p. 1. ↩︎
    52. “Railroad News.” The Atlanta Constitution, January 1, 1892, p. 3. ↩︎
    53. “Pay Day Postponed.” The Atlanta Journal, January 1, 1892, p. 3. ↩︎
    54. “They Have Resigned”. The Atlanta Journal, January 5, 1892, p. 3. ↩︎
    55. “Salaries Paid.” The Macon Telegraph (Macon, Georgia), January 7, 1892, p. 2. ↩︎
    56. “Atlanta’s Rumors.” The Morning News (Savannah, Georgia), January 7, 1892, p. 1. ↩︎
    57. “A Receiver!” The Atlanta Journal, March 4, 1892, p. 1. ↩︎
    58. “The Central’s Fate.” The Atlanta Constitution, March 5, 1892, p. 1. ↩︎
    59. “Fleming Out.” The Atlanta Constitution, June 25, 1892, p. 3. ↩︎
    60. “Paints A Rosy Picture.” The Atlanta Journal, March 29, 1892, p. 1. ↩︎
    61. “The Central’s Officials”. The Atlanta Journal, March 30, 1892, p. 1. ↩︎
    62. “To Move Their Offices”. The Atlanta Journal, June 17, 1892, p. 3. ↩︎
    63. “Are Anxious To Leave.” The Atlanta Journal, June 18, 1892, p. 3. ↩︎
    64. “Mr. W.G. Oakman”. The Atlanta Journal, June 22, 1892, p. 1. ↩︎
    65. “Kiser Building, Familiar Landmark Here For Almost 50 Years, Will Be Demolished”. The Atlanta Journal, November 15, 1936, p. 8-D. ↩︎
    66. Moody, George O. “‘Home’ In Kiser Building Lost By Pigeons”. The Atlanta Journal, July 6, 1930, p. 2. ↩︎
    67. “Old Landmark Of City Will Be Demolished”. The Atlanta Constitution, November 15, 1936, p. 6C. ↩︎
    68. ibid. ↩︎
    69. “Kiser Building, Familiar Landmark Here For Almost 50 Years, Will Be Demolished”. The Atlanta Journal, November 15, 1936, p. 8-D. ↩︎
    70. “Adair Announces Important Leases”. The Atlanta Journal, December 6, 1936, p. 6-D. ↩︎
    71. The Atlanta Constitution, March 30, 1890, p. 8. ↩︎

  • Zigzag House (1959) – Sarasota, Florida

    Tollyn Twitchell. Zigzag House (1959). Lido Shores, Sarasota, Florida.1 2

    References

    1. The Zigzag House Wins State Architecture Award | Sarasota Magazine ↩︎
    2. Landmark ‘Zigzag House’ Hits the Market | Sarasota Magazine ↩︎

  • In Passing

    He wasn’t a nice man by any means: coarse, gruff, surly, and prone to cussing out clients and co-workers.

    He wasn’t that much older than me, but looked ancient — a good fifty pounds overweight, bulging beer belly, balding head, and a thick, graying beard.

    He had a wife and several children and clearly resented the role of family man, bitching about them constantly. The way he talked about women’s titties all the time, I knew he wasn’t getting any either.

    On Mondays, he’d boast about being a deacon at his church, struggling to recall details of the preacher’s message. He liked the bits about punishing sinners the best, although he admitted to occasionally falling asleep during the sermon. As he blathered on about being a holy man, I’d secretly roll my eyes.

    He was skilled at his profession, I suppose, but dumb as a rock about using a computer, which he masked with typical bravado. I sat near his desk and observed the same scenario many times:

    He’d peck slowly at the keyboard, struggle to understand some basic program, mutter and sigh a lot before blurting out, “Something’s wrong with this computer. Must be a virus.”

    That’s how he got into the habit of getting me to “fix” his computer. “It’s slowed down. Need you to clean it up,” he’d tell me, before barreling out the door. All I ever did was clear his browser history, making note of the porn sites he’d been visiting.

    I guess he liked having someone as a wingman, so he started bringing me along to different work meetings, always hauling me around in his giant pickup truck. He’d rant and rave about the state of the world and talk about himself a lot, rarely asking anything about me. At some point, he started sliding his arm behind me while he was driving.

    He usually took off early on Fridays, but one Friday afternoon, we had gone to a late meeting, and he still had to drop me off at the office — he didn’t even know where I lived. When we got into the truck, he suddenly said, “Going out with the wife tonight. Need to change my pants.”

    Before I could respond, he was crawling into the back seat, his ass passing in front of my face. I knew in a flash what was happening. It wasn’t an invitation — I knew the kind of porn he liked, after all — but more a cry for someone to validate that he still had it.

    Ok, I’ll play along, I thought. Somehow, I’d developed an affinity for the guy.

    I watched in the rearview mirror as he took off his dirty jeans, awkwardly shifting and positioning his crotch so I could see it better. His thighs were wide and surprisingly pale and smooth.

    The bulge in his tighty-whities was unremarkable, but the sight of it was no less jarring.

    His breathing was labored as he pulled on a pair of tight black jeans. Then he opened the door, slammed it shut, and walked to the front.

    As he sat down at the steering wheel, I shifted my eyes toward him without turning and said, coolly: “Looking good.”

    “Thanks, man!” he beamed with a wide grin, zipping up his pants. I think I made his year.

  • C. Howard Candler Residence, “Callanwolde” (1921) – Atlanta

    Henry Hornbostel. C. Howard Candler Residence, “Callanwolde” (1921). Druid Hills, Atlanta.1 2 3 4 5

    References

    1. National Register of Historic Places Inventory – Nomination Form: Callanwolde ↩︎
    2. “Joseph Habersham Chapter to Meet”. The Atlanta Journal, December 7, 1919, p. G5. ↩︎
    3. “Folks, Facts and Fables”. The Atlanta Journal, April 13, 1921, p. 11. ↩︎
    4. “Druid Hills Lot” (advertisement). The Atlanta Journal, May 25, 1921, p. 23. ↩︎
    5. Faith, Boyce. “A House Of Pink Marble”. The Atlanta Journal Magazine, July 2, 1922, p. 10. ↩︎

  • Cable Building (1893) – New York

    Stanford White of McKim, Mead & White. The Cable Building (1893). Greenwich Village, New York.

    The Cable Building is one of my favorite New York structures, mostly because I have fond memories associated with it, including the quiet Thanksgiving morning when I took the picture shown above.

    Completed around late 1893, this 8-story steel-framed building1 includes a full basement and fronts on Broadway, Houston, and Mercer Streets on the border of Greenwich Village and NoHo.

    The Cable Building was designed for the Broadway & Seventh Avenue Railway Company by Stanford White of McKim, Mead & White,2 and is a very early example of the Beaux-Arts style.

    Southeast corner of The Cable Building

    The building’s exterior was originally faced with Indiana limestone on the first and second floors, and the upper floors are covered in yellow brick and striking ornamental terra cotta,3 topped by an elaborate copper cornice.

    Each floor encompasses nearly 20,000 square feet4 and encircles a central light court of more than 3,000 square feet.5 6 At its opening, the building’s first floor was designated for retail use, with the top three floors designed for offices and the middle floors reserved for warehouse space.7

    My favorite part of the exterior is the classically-inspired sculpture of two robed women guarding the portico on the east facade, designed by J. Massey Rhind.8

    J. Massey Rhind. Sculpture on the east facade of The Cable Building.

    With that being said, the building’s overall design isn’t White’s best: the chamfered corners temper the appearance of bulkiness and provide interesting focal points, but the many large windows on every side of the structure clutter the composition, making it look messy and overwrought.

    What makes the Cable Building impressive, however, is that it was designed to conceal a power plant for the street railway company, effectively creating “a building within a building”.9

    Reaching 46 feet below the street surface,10 the building’s basement originally housed 550 tons of machinery that powered the company’s cable cars, including wheels measuring 32 feet in diameter and weighing 50 tons each.11

    Cornice on The Cable Building

    The machinery has long since been removed, and today the Cable Building’s deep bowels house the Angelika Film Center, where there’s a chance you may find me some late evening, watching an indie flick as nearby subway trains rumble past.

    References

    1. “The Cable Building.” The New York Times, December 19, 1893, p. 9. ↩︎
    2. Baker, Paul R. Stanny: The Gilded Life of Stanford White. New York: The Free Press (1989), pp. 213-14. ↩︎
    3. “The Cable Building.” The New York Times, December 19, 1893, p. 9. ↩︎
    4. ibid. ↩︎
    5. ibid. ↩︎
    6. “A Model Building.” The Independent (New York), February 1, 1894, p. 22. ↩︎
    7. “The Cable Building.” The New York Times, December 19, 1893, p. 9. ↩︎
    8. Looking Up: The Cable Building – Village Preservation ↩︎
    9. “Motive Force Of The Cable Cars.” The Sun (New York), November 30, 1893, p. 7. ↩︎
    10. “The Cable Building.” The New York Times, December 19, 1893, p. 9. ↩︎
    11. “Motive Force Of The Cable Cars.” The Sun (New York), November 30, 1893, p. 7. ↩︎

  • Skybridge to Gas Light Tower, Peachtree Center, Atlanta

    John Portman and Associates. Skybridge to Gas Light Tower. Peachtree Center, Atlanta.

    “We are trying to be as good as suburbia, by bringing nature back into the city. We are creating an urban environment where people walk. People don’t walk in suburbia. There are four rush hours there: morning, going to lunch, returning from lunch and going home. We have the only really pedestrian environment in the whole metro area.”

    – John C. Portman, Jr., 19881

    References

    1. Walker, Tom. “Skybridges High, Dry, Debatable”. The Atlanta Journal, September 6, 1988, p. 1B. ↩︎