Golden Eggs in an Unguarded Nest: Vulnerable Downtown Winter Park

Historic preservation made the news again recently in Winter Park, when the board charged with overseeing the city’s historic architectural assets voted 5-2 to deny the Grant Chapel’s application for “Historic Resource” status.

The arguments for and against the application presented an interesting case study in historic preservation theory—what is the tipping point when a building’s character becomes so compromised that it ceases to be historic? But the discussion failed to acknowledge the bigger issue for Winter Park, which is how very vulnerable the majority of our iconic historic buildings are to demolition or architecturally ill-conceived alterations.

Heaven on Wheels:

Grant Chapel was built on Winter Park’s West Side in 1935, and served as a house of worship for the predominantly African American population there for almost 70 years.  When the congregation outgrew its location, it was purchased by developer Dan Bellows, who saw the development potential of its prime Hannibal Square location.  For the past few years, Bellows has rented the property to Suzanne and Steve Graffham, who operate it as the “Winter Park Wedding Chapel,” primarily for destination weddings.

In October of last year, Bellows struck a deal with the City of Winter Park, and made plans to move the chapel to its current location, at the Corner of Lyman and New England, across from the Winter Park Farmer’s Market.  Many citizens expressed gratitude that Bellows was moving the chapel rather than demolishing it, although traditionalists complained that yet another of Winter Park’s historic structures was having to move to escape the wrecking ball. The City’s preservation strategy sometimes appears to be ‘Move it or lose it.’

The deal specified that the new location for the Chapel would be re-zoned commercial if Bellows agreed to list the Chapel on the Winter Park Register of Historic Places, ostensibly protecting the structure from future hi-jinx.

After its December move (eclipsed somewhat by the dramatic maritime Capen House move), the chapel was remodeled to include the addition of a basement, with two staircases descending from the front façade.  The new location features fairly elaborate hardscaping, in contrast to the humble, leafy lot where the chapel once resided.  Here are the before-and-afters:

Before the move, New England Avenue

 

After the move, Lyman and New York

At the August meeting, it was apparent that these changes did not sit well with the HPB. The members who voted against designating the chapel as an historic resource argued that the front façade had been too dramatically altered with the addition of the basement, and that the building’s repositioning as a ‘faux gateway’ to the West Side took it out of its historical neighborhood context.

The staff report (see pgs. 6 and following of : http://cityofwinterpark.org/docs/government/boards/agendas/HPB_agd_2014-08-13.pdf) acknowledged these changes, but recommended that the chapel be designated nonetheless, given that its significance primarily derives from the building’s historic use and not its architectural integrity.  Several HPB members also expressed annoyance that the board had not been consulted before the structural changes were approved by city planning, and that it was a foregone conclusion that the building would be designated despite such extensive alterations.

“I was shocked to see all the changes,” remarked board chairman Randall Glidden, who voted against designation.

“I resent being put between a rock and a hard place,” complained board member Candace Chemtob, who also voted to deny historic status. “I’m kind of shocked this is coming to us after such huge alternations have been made.”

Board member Genean McKinnon expressed dismay that the planning department was aware of the changes that were being made, but didn’t inform the HPB until they were faits accompli, although she ultimately voted in favor of the designation. McKinnon agreed with staff that the building, even in its altered state, is better off protected than not.

Board members are justified in their frustration with the dramatic changes made to a historic structure, and that there were loopholes in the agreement Bellows struck with the city wide enough to drive a bulldozer through.  The agreement stated:

The owner agrees that on completion of the move, the Property and Grant Chapel Church Building shall be listed as a historic landmark property, and governed by Chapter 58, Land Development Code and the Winter Park Historic Preservation Commission. As such, the owner will not demolish or alter the Grant Chapel Church building structure in architectural style or integrity without the consent of the City.

But here are the ambiguities: should the City have had the right to put the kibosh on the basement addition, or was it OK for Bellows to add it since the chapel wasn’t yet officially on the Register? And does “consent of the City” mean the HPB or just the city planning department?  Because we all know that in Winter Park, until a structure has been voluntarily listed by its owner on the historic register (and apparently, the ink is dry), the HPB and city are legally powerless to protect a historic building from incompatible remodeling or demolition.

The Bigger Picture:

The Grant Chapel case shines a bright light on other historic treasures in Winter Park, indeed buildings on which the city’s reputation as “charming, historic Winter Park” rests, that are completely vulnerable to the whim of the property owner.

Did you know that while downtown Winter Park is a National Register Historic District, there are zero—count ‘em, ZERO—buildings in the ‘shopping district’ of Park Avenue that are on the Local Winter Park Register?   And though it seems counterintuitive, it’s the LOCAL register, not the National, that provides a building protection from alteration or demolition.

Greeneda Court

Consider Gamble Rogers’ celebrated Greeneda Court.  It’s not unfathomable that a developer might one day conclude that an open courtyard on Park Avenue doesn’t generate any cash flow and fill it in.  The 1882 Ergood Building (now Penzey’s), the Union State Bank Building (now Peterbrooke), the Pioneer Store (now Be on Park) and the Hamilton Hotel (now the Park Plaza) are protected from ruin only by the goodwill of their owners.  Which is to say, they’re one bad sale away from serious peril.

There’s not a single structure on the Rollins campus on the Winter Park Register. Are the Knowles Chapel and Annie Russell Theater on the Rollins campus safe?  One would think so.  Yet the college’s decision to raze gracious Strong Hall, designed by the celebrated architectural firm of Kiehnel and Elliott in 1939, to build a new, larger dormitory in 2013 does not bespeak a sensitivity to history, even though the Rollins website claims that the replacement dorm “has been designed in the Edison (sic) Misener (sic) tradition.”  See this interesting report of the original building’s dedication in 1939 by then-President Hamilton Holt: http://archives.rollins.edu/cdm/compoundobject/collection/archland/id/643/rec/9.

Strong Hall how it was

Strong Hall today

The equally beautiful Corrin Hall suffered a similar fate.  So, while buildings like the Knowles and the Annie might be considered sacrosanct, if I were Mills Memorial Library or the College Arms, I’d make sure my affairs were in order.

Not to spread hysteria, but Central Park is equally unprotected.  Is it ludicrous that the City would allow something to threaten what is by any objective measure, the most valuable historic resource in the city?  Any skeptics should see:  Hotels, Carlisle.

Yet any of these eventualities could be avoided if the City had the foresight to do what scores of other cities in Florida have done: to designate the contributing structures in the downtown central business district, and even on the Rollins campus, as historic on the local register, with or without the permission of the property owner.  Is this heresy?  A violation of our inalienable freedoms?  If so, then Palm Beach, Delray Beach, West Palm Beach, Tampa, and Coral Gables, just to name a few, are under the rule of totalitarian regimes.

Winter Park – both the politicians and property owners—may not have the stomach for designating an historic commercial district if the property owners don’t desire it. But if this is the case, we can’t be ‘shocked’ when a property owner compromises a treasured building’s historic design to increase profitability.  What’s more, we better have the stomach to tell our grandchildren that downtown Winter Park used to be a place with a lot of historic charm.

Happy to Be Home

A few weeks back, we asked our readers to tell us about their favorite house in Winter Park.  While there were some predictable (and excellent) choices—The Palms, Casa Feliz, that-amazing-red-brick-house-on-Seminole-that-everyone-drools-over—it was a pleasant surprise that a number of respondents said that they were LIVING in their favorite Winter Park house.  This was a good excuse to visit, and profile, two of them:

“This house IS Winter Park.”

Lots of houses look wonderfully old on the outside.  They have gorgeous historic wrought-iron, hand-hewn balconies, and charming architectural features that please the eye and the soul.  Then you go inside, and you might as well be in a five-year-old Isleworth mansion.  All signs of yesteryear have been eradicated to ‘meet the needs of today’s homeowner.’

Sally’s Dream House

Authenticity Defined

Delightfully, this is not the case with Sally Flynn’s 1929 Virginia Heights home. Precious little has changed since the day she laid eyes on it in 1966, save a few cosmetic touches and the expansion of the family room, and today the house is even more soulful inside than it is outside.  The Spanish style house sits on just over an acre on the west shore of Lake Virginia, and Sally has an unobstructed view from her porch of the only large plat of undeveloped land on the lake—the Windsong Preserve.  “Every time I pull into my driveway,” Sally says, “I feel I’m the luckiest person in the world.”

The lot overlooking the Windsong Preserve

If Hollywood were to design a set for an idyllic childhood home, it couldn’t come closer than this one. Sally raised her five (now adult) children in the house. She reflects, “this house IS Winter Park to my children,” only one of whom still lives in Florida.  Although the rooms are very large, with original plaster, antique decorative light fixtures, gorgeous magnolia ceiling beams, and crown molding, there isn’t a piece of furniture that couldn’t withstand a sick child reclining on it, or a dog’s muddy paws.  The huge dining room is populated by family antiques—none of them overly fancy or off-putting, the kind of furnishings that root you to a simpler past. None of the upholstery really matches, yet it is the most unintentionally elegant home I have ever been inside. “I’ve never had a decorator,” says Sally. “Never had much interest in that.”

Living Room

Dining Room

The house boasts a large, farmhouse kitchen with lots of original cabinets, homey wallpaper, formica countertops and a kitchen table that says, ‘come sit down.’  There’s a sweeping expanse of lawn between the house and the lake, whose rose garden was removed so it didn’t interfere with her three sons’ backyard baseball games. If you listen carefully, you can almost still hear the squeals of children running the bases, chasing each other up and down what has to be the most inviting staircase in Winter Park, or running laps around the downstairs.  Perhaps, though, this is because a bevy of Sally’s 12 grandchildren have just recently departed from spending a week spring break at Camp Grammy.

No Sub-Zero Here

How many kids have slid down this banister?

And while, let’s be honest, you cannot own a grand house full of lovely antiques on an acre of land on Lake Virginia without being a person of some means, Sally’s humble, New England pragmatism pervades every part of her person.  For instance, the 3 ½ bathroom house initially had no shower.  She eventually added one in the kids’ half of the upstairs to satisy her brood of athlete teenagers, but the master ‘suite,’ if you could call it that, still has only the original tub, sink and toilet. “For heaven’s sakes, what more do I need?” says Sally, whose drip-dry grey bob hairstyle is about as unfussy as they come.

Sally in a rare pose–sitting down

And, sitting on Sally’s sun porch overlooking a still Lake Virginia on a bright, breezy spring day, I’d be hard put to think of any need this house wouldn’t satisfy.

 Marjorie’s Happy Place

Bet you didn’t know that, on the south shore of Lake Osceola, there’s a 99-year-old house that sits on 4 (count ‘em) otherwise undeveloped acres.  And if walls could speak, Bryan and Marjorie Bekaert Thomas’ house could almost dictate a history of Winter Park. The 1915 English arts and crafts style house, once called “Pine Needles,” was built on the former site of the famed Seminole Hotel, which burned in 1902.

Accented by trellises bearing fuchsia bougainvillea, the 4700 square foot woodframe house has always been home to prominent Winter Park families.  Built for Mr. and Mrs. Harley Gibbs, old “Winter Park Forum” articles tell stories of the gracious society entertaining that took place there. The subsequent owners, the Freemans, also fêted Winter Park’s gentry.  Their daughter Billie Freeman Greene, who would raise her family there, was a well-known botanist, watercolor artist and published author.  Billie’s husband Ray was a top administrator at Rollins, developed Greeneda Court on Park Avenue, and served as Winter Park mayor in the 1950s.

When the Thomases moved to Winter Park in 1982, Marjorie had her sights set on another house across the lake, but wondered whether the house was priced fairly.  For comparison purposes, her real estate agent took her to Pine Needles, which was a much bigger house on much more land than the couple had considered purchasing. Marjorie fell madly in love.  “I knew the instant I crossed the threshold,” she remembers. Bryan needed convincing—they lived in the house five years before he would admit he had grown to love it as much as she did from the start.

Sun porch and trellis

Yet the house is not what you would expect from the founder and owner of a multi-million dollar news production company, Ivanhoe Broadcast News, and someone who spends her spare time playing polo.  Marjorie is a steel magnolia—a shrewd businesswoman with the easy laugh, warm smile and gentile accent of a North Carolina belle.

Marjorie and friend

“I hate McMansions,” says Marjorie.  Indeed, her house, grounds and furnishings bespeak a lack of pretension wholly absent in squeaky-new homes dripping in travertine.  Like Sally Flynn’s, Marjorie’s kitchen is somewhat cluttered with projects and looks as if someone actually prepares food there.  There are four fireplaces with well-worn hearths.  The huge yard is wild, with mown turf mixed with sand where you might expect manicured boxwood.  It’s perfectly suited to long games of fetch with her beloved dogs–an Australian shepherd and a Border collie.

Casual elegance

And while it’s a large house for two people, Marjorie and Bryan use most of the rooms.   They recently moved all the furniture out of the grand living room, with the wall of windows overlooking Lake Osceola, so that they could practice yoga there. Bryan works from home in the remodeled servant’s quarters, and they frequently host out-of-town guests.  Marjorie’s favorite room in the house?  One of two sun porches. “I love nothing more than to sit here on Sunday and read the New York Times.”

The yoga studio…

As much as she cherishes the house, Marjorie loves the property even more, and has resisted numerous tempting offers to sell off portions of it.  She told one suitor, who kept upping the ante, “Do NOT call me again. I do not want to have to say ‘yes’” she laughs. Her long-range plan is to move into the 1600 sq. foot guest house, designed by James Gamble Rogers and recently updated, and to rent or sell the house and grounds.  This pattern was established by Billie Greene, who continued to live in the guest house for years after Marjorie and Bryan occupied the main house.  Marjorie happily yielded to Billie’s tending flower beds around the property, and harvesting bouquets for the Winter Park Library next door.

It’s only appropriate, on one of Winter Park’s most storied properties, that history will repeat itself.

 

 

 

Winter Park Women’s Club Hits 100

The stately Winter Park Women’s Club on Interlachen Avenue

By Karen James

There are few places in Winter Park where you will be so warmly welcomed as the Winter Park Woman’s Club. Gracious ladies stand the entrance with genuine smiles and introductions. Last month on a chilly Thursday evening, the club held its Centennial Celebration dinner at its historic clubhouse on Interlachen Avenue. The program for the evening included the history of the club, the kick-off of its Founder’s Day Centennial Campaign, and music videos from the early 1900s.

The organization that has so faithfully served generations of Winter Parkers is now hoping citizens will return the favor.  The Centennial Campaign will help fund much-needed repairs to the stately historic clubhouse.  More on this below.

At the celebration, Club President, Sandra Blossey, a lifelong educator, presented the history of the organization. In 1915, the club was founded by Mrs. Charles H. Morse, wife of one of the city’s founders, and 16 of her friends. They met at her home, “Osceola Lodge,” on Interlachen Avenue. As clubs and associations grow over the years, mission statements often change. This is not true for the Woman’s Club. The mission has remained the same as it was in 1915:

• To associate its members and the public in efforts to advance the civic and educational welfare of Winter Park and surrounding areas.
• To aid worthy students entering or attending institutions of higher learning.
• To preserve the history and the premises of the Woman’s Club of Winter Park for future generations of members and the community.

The club grew as the city and country grew. Volunteerism and activism focused on local concerns and the prominent issues of many generations.  Early community service efforts were related to World War I. In 1919, members petitioned the Florida state legislature for municipal suffrage for women. Other endeavors included sponsoring the first community Christmas tree, petitioning for garbage service, sponsoring the first state flower show, starting the Garden Club, and hosting art shows, a library, and church services. Longtime Winter Park resident Ann Saurman shared fond memories of the club:

 “My parents were married in the Winter Park Methodist Church in 1930, and their wedding reception was held in the Woman’s Club.  From 1944-46 my mother, Kathryn Morgan, was president of the Woman’s Club. My sister, Jane and I attended the Winter Park Elementary School adjacent to the Woman’s Club, and we would walk over to meet her after school and after her meeting so that we could all go home together. I have happy memories of the many dances we all went to at the Woman’s Club as we were growing up.  I am so thankful that through the years the membership has made the effort to maintain and preserve this beautiful, graceful building. It never goes out of style.”

Currently the club provides fiscal and physical support to community agencies such as the Salvation Army, Orlando Rescue Mission, families from Winter Park Housing Authority, the Adult Literacy League and many others.

The emphasis on scholarship is a history unto itself. In 1937, Robert D. Van Tassell, Judge of the Orlando County Juvenile Court, spoke to the club about the plight of needy and deserving children. A Committee was formed, an appeal for funds was made in 1938, and by New Year’s Day 1939, the first two scholarship awards were announced. Early fundraising events included bake sales and flea markets. Fortunately, generous bequests initiated an Endowment Fund that continues to this day. “Using only proceeds from the principle of the Endowment Fund, the club has been able to provide many students with substantial grants. Last year we awarded $31,000 to twelve students,”   said Blossey.

The clubhouse itself is of great interest to the Friends of Casa Feliz and many others who value good architecture and preservation. A lovely example of the Neoclassical Revival style, the building was designed by New York architect L. Percival Hutton and built by L.C. Townsend, an important local contractor at the time. Completed in 1921, the clubhouse sits on land donated by Mr. Charles H. Morse from the original 18-hole golf course. Rectangular, symmetrical buildings of this style with low roofs, columns, and finely scaled windows and doors were very popular in the country in the early twentieth century, especially in the South. The use of the small pavilions on either side of the main block may be been inspired by Mount Vernon’s famous façade. The house is on the National Register of Historic Places and the local Winter Park Register.

The Women’s Club members have preserved and maintained the house over the years. Substantial renovations to the house were undertaken in 1960, 1980 and 1992. And while the house has never been threatened by intentional demolition, with old buildings ‘demolition by neglect’ is always a concern.  So, in its 100^th year, the Women’s Club is undertaking the Centennial Campaign to raise $300,000 to cover the renovations and start an endowment for house maintenance. The work needed on this lovely building—used by hundreds of people each week for meetings and celebrations—includes kitchen renovations, roof replacement, terrace replacement, landscaping and redecorating.

The Woman’s Club has given so much to the city and the country for almost one hundred years. If you are able, please consider making a donation to the club so the organization can continue to meet the needs of the community for the next one hundred years.

Donations to the Centennial Campaign can be sent to The Winter Park Woman’s Club, P.O. Box 1433, Winter Park, FL 32790. Donations of any amount are gladly accepted and anyone who makes a contribution will receive a certificate as a member of the Centennial Society of the Woman’s Club of Winter Park, Inc.

Karen James is the Vice Chairman and the Advocacy Committee Chairman of the Friends of Casa Feliz.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CAPEN CELEBRATION!

If ever I start to forget why I love my hometown of Winter Park, I need only return to the memories of yesterday, December 10, 2013, when the community came together to move a precious historic house across a lake.  Yesterday was a triumph shared by  many people:

• By Debbie Komanski, executive director of the Albin Polasek Museum & Sculpture Gardens, who has been the definition of indefatigable throughout this six-month journey.  When she first agreed to take on this project, she was told “all you really need to do is provide the land.  We’ll take care of the rest.” That she is not only still speaking to the starry-eyed preservationist/blogger who made this promise–perhaps the most outrageous understatement in city history–but at every turn deflects credit from herself onto others, is incredible. She is grace personified.
• By the Preservation Capen team, a cross-organizational cadre of community leaders and technical experts who have met week after week, month after month, to strategize, publicize, raise money, make phone calls, speak to civic groups, and cheer-lead at the Farmer’s Market, at rallies, and parades.  This group has provided the spiritual fuel, sweat, and goodwill that has propelled the Capen House project forward.
• By Christine Madrid French, a nationally renowned preservationist who by our good fortune found herself living in preservation-challenged (but improving!) Central Florida. As project director, she has capably steered the project to fruition, with a huge smile on her face and sparkles in her hair.
• By Pat and Randy Robertson, whose early donation to the project got us off the ground.
• By the boards, staff and members of the Albin Polasek Museum, Winter Park Historical Association and the Friends of Casa Feliz, who locked arms to devote their organizational resources to helping make history in Winter Park. I’ve never seen a stronger testament to teamwork.
• By the local press, who have belied the common complaint that the media only report bad news.  The Orlando Sentinel’s David Breen and I LUV Winter Park’s Clyde Moore, and a whole bevy of print, TV, web and radio reporters have pursued this story with persistence, fairness and accuracy.
• By hundreds of financial supporters, whose contributions have made the dream of floating a house across a lake a reality.
• By property owners John and Betsy Pokorny, who have bent over backwards to cooperate with the community’s plans to move the Capen House.  In a city that told them, “go ahead, you can knock it down,” they put their dream house on hold for many months so the preservation community could satisfy their dream of moving the house.
• By Thaddeus Seymour, an 85-year-old retired college president who by all rights should be sipping martinis on a golf course in Palm Springs, but instead has spent his retirement serving his adopted community of Winter Park.  No task is too daunting or too picayune for Thad, who will spend a morning asking a community leader for a landmark donation and an afternoon printing out Capen House postcards on his Mac.
• By Frank Roark, the general contractor overseeing the project, who has juggled the often competing needs of the Polasek, the moving company, the city, the homeowners, the lawyers, the fundraisers, and the media, and has subjugated his own personal needs to all of the above. He loves Winter Park, and Winter Park loves him.

If you weren’t among the throngs of folks who witnessed this miracle first-hand, we hope you’ll enjoy some of these photos and videos from this jubilant day:

The descent to the Lake

Final boarding call

Cat’s out of the bag

Video of the Move–Click Here

Anchors aweigh!

Sailing, sailing!

Thad Seymour documents history

A flotilla of well-wishers

First Night in her new home

A final plea…

http://www.orlandosentinel.com/videogallery/78500977/Time-lapse-of-moving-the-Capen-House

http://findingjoyinflorida.com/2013/12/11/moving-victory-in-winter-park/

Why Historic Preservation Needs Government: the free market can’t do it all

In discussions on historic preservation, it’s common to hear someone say, “I love architecture and history, and think it should be preserved. But it’s not the role of government.  Historic preservation is best left to the private sector.”   Some take it a step further.  Recently, the Orlando Sentinel published an editorial by Dan Peterson, executive director of the Coalition for Property Rights.  In his editorial Peterson states, “A municipal government telling an owner he has no right to demolish a standing structure in order to build a new one is dictatorial and, in fact, unlawful.”

Indeed, there have been fine examples both locally and internationally of the private sector’s providing solutions for threatened historic properties.   Did you know that Mount Vernon isn’t owned by the federal government?

Mount Vernon: pre-restoration

In 1853, Ann Pamela Cunningham formed the Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association to purchase George Washington’s family homestead and rescue it from decrepitude, thus launching the first major historic preservation project in the United States.  The Association operates the home museum to this day.  Closer to home, the Friends of Casa Feliz formed in 2000 to save Gamble Rogers’ masterwork, when consensus couldn’t be reached for the city to own the project.  The Morse Foundation has painstakingly preserved Osceola Lodge, the 1883 Craftsman style home of city pioneer Charles Hosmer Morse, without city assistance.

There have been more situations, however, where the private sector was unable or unwilling to intervene, resulting in serious threats to architectural heritage.  In some cases, government has stepped into the breach.  A classic example is Stonehenge—in the 1870s, the monument’s private owner, arguing that “it’s not the slightest use to anyone now,” attempted to sell it to a railway company, when the British government intervened by passing the Ancient Monuments Protection Act.

Penn Station: RIP

When government doesn’t come to the rescue of a threatened architectural treasure, people almost invariably wish it had.  Following the 1963 demolition of New York’s Penn Station by the private Pennsylvania Railroad Company, public outcry was such that Congress would ultimately pass the National Historic Preservation Act, which empowered States and municipalities to develop plans to legally protect their historic inventory.  Since the passage of the act in October 1966, cities that value their history have established strong historic preservation ordinances.

While we have a preservation ordinance in Winter Park (enacted in 2003), one need only look at the thin roster of designated homes, coupled with demolition records of the past ten years, to conclude that it doesn’t go far enough to protect the city’s historic assets.  The shortcomings of the ordinance include:

• An unrealistic threshold for district designation:  In order for a historic district to be formed in the city, the ordinance requires that at least two-thirds of the homeowners in the proposed district vote in favor of its formation.  Two districts have managed to get the votes to form districts—the College Quarter and Virginia Heights East.  Others, though, have fallen short because of this threshold, which far exceeds the requirements of other Florida cities.  West Palm Beach, for example, requires no threshold whatsoever for a neighborhood to be designated, nor should it, according to Friederike Mittner, the city’s historic preservation officer.  “We don’t ask the homeowners’ permission for other zoning ordinances,” she said.  “Historic preservation is just another form of zoning.”  That city has 16 districts designated to date, protecting over 3,500 historic homes from demolition.

• Insufficient protection from demolition: If a historic home or building is voluntarily listed by its owner on the Winter Park Register of Historic Places, it’s difficult, though not impossible, for a future owner to receive permission to demolish it.   It’s a different story, however, for historic homes or buildings not lucky enough to be owned, or previously owned, by a preservation-minded person.  Specifically, there are  about 700 Winter Park residential and commercial structures on the Florida Master Site File (the state’s official record of historic buildings), yet only about 25% of them are on the Winter Park Register or in a historic district, and thus shielded from demolition.   Thus, if someone were to purchase Gamble Rogers’ Macalaster House,arguably one of the architect’s most acclaimed structures, and raze it, there would be absolutely nothing in the city code to impede the process.  Other precious structures with no protection? The Alabama Hotel.   Rogers’  iconic arte moderne Jewett House.  Sandscove on Via Tuscany. The 1902 George Wright House, the oldest house in the historic Hannibal Square neighborhood, currently being marketed as a tear-down.  The list goes on and on.  
  

  Macalaster House on Alexander Place

In Sarasota and many other cities that value preservation, it’s not so easy to demolish a historic home, even one not listed on the local register.  Sarasota’s Senior Planner, Dr. Clifford Smith helped draft his city’s ordinance which he says “makes it very difficult to demolish a house on the State Master Site File.”  To knock down a historic home, the owner must demonstrate to the city that he or she has explored every potential option for saving the home, including selling to another buyer, remodeling, and relocation.  If the board is satisfied that these options have been exhausted, they may grant a demolition permit after a waiting period of 120 days.  According to Smith, these regulations make it so difficult to raze a historic home, that in the five years since the policy was written, only a handful of historically significant residences of the 3,500 listed on the Florida Master Site File have been lost.

• Serious Qualifications for Historic Preservation Board:  If a city takes preservation seriously, its ordinance should outline meaningful qualifications for service on the board that administers its ordinance.  Presumably,  the majority, if not all, of its members should have professional experience in architecture, construction, or history, or have a demonstrated passion for preservation.  In West Palm, for example, the HP ordinance specifies the following about selection of its nine-member board:  “Two members of the full board shall have professional degrees in architecture, at least one of whom shall be a regular member. A minimum of two members shall be chosen from among the disciplines of architecture, history, architectural history, archaeology, landscape architecture or planning. A minimum of two additional members of  the board shall be experienced in the areas of commercial development or real estate, banking or law. Three other members, including the two alternate members, shall be from any of the foregoing professions. Two members shall be citizen members at large. All members shall have demonstrated a special interest, experience or knowledge in historic preservation or related disciplines.”  By contrast, here’s what Winter Park’s ordinance specifies about board members’ qualifications: “Must be a City of Winter Park resident, one of which is an architect.”

There is a role for private citizens and organizations in historic preservation.  But arguing that there’s little place for government in historic preservation is akin to saying that government shouldn’t engage in zoning, or road-building, or park maintenance—that if the private sector values these things, they’ll happen.  We know this not to be the case.  Cities around the country that have been successful in preserving their sense of place have one thing in common:  a strong preservation ordinance enforced by a city government that values its historic resources.  Right now, Winter Park’s Historic Preservation Board has been charged by the City Commission with reviewing the city’s ordinance, and making recommendations to strengthen it.  Let’s hope that ambitious enough changes are proposed by the board—and accepted by the commission—to endow the city with the clout necessary to save our architectural heritage.  Because assuming the free market and a weak ordinance will adequately protect a city’s character and sense of place will, well…you know what they say about assuming.

Phoenix on Orange Avenue

In recent years, anyone driving down Orange Avenue from Winter Park to Orlando passed by this eyesore:

Of course, the house at 1509 North Orange Avenue hadn’t always looked this way.  When it was constructed in 1926 for the Babcock Family, the house was a gleaming example of the Spanish eclectic architecture that would become so popular in Central Florida in the years that followed.  The stucco, barrel-tile roofed structure attracted buyers to the new neighborhood by Walter Rose’s Central Florida Development Company.  Orwin Manor—so named because it straddled the border of ORlando and WINter Park–was the first neighborhood in the area built with streetlamps, sidewalks, and a sewer system.  The deed to the land specified that the buyer  “shall at no time erect any dwelling on the above described premises costing any less than $7,500.00,” a princely sum at the time. The Babcocks’ home did not disappoint—its striking façade was detailed with arched French doors leading to shallow ironwork balconies, rounded arch vents, an asymmetrical recessed entry with decoratively sculpted plasterwork, and a beautiful side Florida room with arched windows. Clearly, this house was built to stop traffic on what was then called “Dixie Highway,” the only two-lane road between the two cities.

Through the years, the house was occupied by a series of prominent families, including citrus magnate JM McCord. Yet in recent decades, disrepair overtook the house’s original glory.  Sheets of paint peeled from the façade. Overgrown shrubbery and ‘trash trees’ obscured the house’s architectural detailing.  Six rusted vehicles cluttered the yard.

It would be reasonable for a passerby to assume that the house, which occupied this valuable piece of real estate a five-minute drive from both downtown Winter Park and Orlando, was not long for this world. Over the past 20 years, houses in better condition than this have been demolished on a weekly basis in Winter Park.  Surely, even preservation pioneers would consider this dilapidated doozy “too far gone.”

Enter Aimee and Michael Spencer.  Newly relocated to Winter Park, the Spencers had a penchant for old houses. They had restored a 1924 house in Colonialtown in the City of Orlando and painstakingly built another in Historic Flamingo Park in the City of West Palm Beach to “look like it was built in the 1920s”.  Their work was so convincing that they frequently got questions from people wondering about “the restoration.”

Still, when they crossed the threshold with their real estate agent, the house was a full-on assault on their senses.  See for yourself:

Kitchen: before

Master bedroom: before

Twin bedroom: before

Sheets of paint hung from ceilings, rust-stained from years of roof and plumbing leakage. Floors and windows hadn’t been maintained for decades. The piles of clutter and boxes created a labyrinthine effect, stacked in nearly every room.  The kitchen was squalid, with rusted cabinets hanging from their hinges. During their visit, the couple counted six cats and four dogs.

But the Spencers liked a challenge.  They saw beneath the clutter and grime the bones of a structure that would be extremely costly if impossible to rebuild.  Plus, Michael, a general contractor and construction manager for SeaWorld, had a lot more know-how than your average homebuyer.  They rolled up their sleeves and got to work.

The first step was to discern what jobs they should farm out and what they could realistically tackle themselves with their three-year-old daughter, Ava Grace, nipping at their heels.   In the former category they put the roof, which was painstakingly repaired—section by section, tiles were removed, subroof replaced, and then tiles reinstalled. The electric and plumbing systems were completely replaced. The exterior of the house required extensive scraping and repainting.  Interior plaster ceilings and walls had to be replaced because of water damage.

A lot of the work involved a complete restoration of the original doors and windows.  The Spencers teamed with CCS Restorations of Sanford for the work.  While it might have been easier to replace rather than restore, the quality of the original woodwork was apparent.  Though shabby in appearance, the heart cypress sashes had no rot, despite at least 30 years of neglect. Plus, according to Aimee, “new doors and windows rob a historic house of its soul.”   The Spencers removed the windows a few at a time, drove them to Sanford, and restored the jambs themselves while CCS tackled the sashes. Seeing the beautifully restored and reinstalled windows and doors, it would be difficult to argue that their labor was unjustified.  The soul of the house flourishes.

The backyard required a full-scale excavation. When all was said and done, they had hauled 4 dumpsters full of trash from the property. When they thought they were done, they uncovered a Suzuki Samurai hidden in the back yard’s overgrown vegetation.

The interior of the house is an anomaly–it retains its historic character while gleaming with newness.  The special Benjamin Moore metallic blue paint shimmers as sun streams in through the French doors.  Although many of the fixtures in the bathrooms and kitchen are new, the Spencers took care to choose things that were period-appropriate.  They were also able to reuse the ‘subway’ tile from the original bathrooms for the butler’s pantry and backsplashes.

By May 2012, the home was ready to occupy, although the couple continues to chip away at painting and yardwork.  Ava Grace now occupies a pink-painted room with dark brown stuffed monkeys and polka dots frolicking on the linens. The Spencers have received broad recognition for the project.  In 2012, the house was named to the Winter Park Register of Historic Places.  Earlier this year, the Florida Trust for Historic Preservation presented the Spencers with an Outstanding Achievement award. The website of “This Old House” features the house’s restoration.  It’s easy to see why:

The Spencer Home – 2013

Here are some after shots provided by the Spencers.  Preservation Winter Park has verified with our own eyes that in fact, these ARE the same house:

Rear: after

Living room: after

Sun porch: after

Kitchen: after

Kitchen: after

Master bedroom: after

Twin bedroom: after

And although the Spencers “intend to be repainting this house when (they’re) 80,” the rehab has made financial sense as well.  Purchased for $275,000, after complete renovations the couple will have invested less than $200 per square foot for a house with all new mechanical, electrical and plumbing systems, insulation, waterproof membrane and original tile roof, and refinished or new finished in place hardwoods.  The estimate even includes the cost of a future swimming pool and fenced backyard.

Still, Aimee says the greatest rewards for their labor are intangible.  “People have gotten so far away from caring for their own homes.  The further away you get, the less appreciation you have for the richness of the materials, which combine function and beauty. With this home, we’ve gotten to witness a Phoenix rising from the ashes.”  She also hopes that their persistence will teach Ava Grace that “anything worth having is worth the work.”

Looking ahead, Aimee plans to become more active in historic preservation in Winter Park.  “I hope the city will start to put a higher priority on protecting historic houses. We need a stronger ordinance, and better incentives for people to have their houses listed.” She serves on the Friends of Casa Feliz’s advocacy committee, and is eager to share with Winter Park some of the preservation successes she witnessed during her years in Orlando and West Palm Beach.

Meanwhile, there’s more crown molding that needs to be painted, and some screens to repair. The Phoenix has risen, but he needs to be fed.

 

 

Let’s Cherish – Not Demolish – Our Heritage

Winter Park’s seal identifies it as the “City of Culture and Heritage.”   On the city’s website, ‘webisodes’ such as this one profess Winter Park’s devotion to preserving its cultural and architectural history:   http://vimeo.com/43260029.

Indeed, the city’s identity is inextricably tied to its architectural character.  Drive through Alaqua Lakes and it would be easy enough to imagine yourself in Celebration, Heathrow or Keene’s Pointe.  Nice places to live, but as Gertrude Stein said of Oakland, “there’s no there there.” By contrast, meander past the old churches and historic homes lining Interlachen Avenue, stroll under the laurel oaks around Lake Chelton, or bike bucolic Berkshire Avenue in Orwin Manor, and you’ve been somewhere memorable.

After nearly losing Casa Feliz to demolition in 2001, our city leaders adopted a Preservation Ordinance that provides for the protection of designated historic properties. Listed structures may not be demolished or significantly altered without approval of the city’s Historic Preservation Board. Since the program’s inception, 77 individual homes and two entire neighborhoods – the College Quarter and Virginia Heights East – have been listed.   Because of the protection of this ordinance, and the dedication and community spirit of the homeowners, homes like this Gamble Rogers-designed Colonial Revival on Alberta Drive will grace Winter Park for at least another 75 years:

 

 And this 1926 Tudor Revival ‘gingerbread’ home, located on Palmer Avenue, will delight children in future generations who bike the sidewalks of Palmer Avenue:

 

Across town, this craftsman style home on Hillcrest will survive future changes in ownership and continue to add charm and character to its beautiful neighborhood:

 

These preservation success stories point to the city’s will and ability to safeguard its uniqueness. At the same time, it is difficult to square Winter Park’s stated commitment to preserving our architecture with the inch-thick computer printout of single family home demolitions we were provided by the City clerk’s office last week.  Apparently, the last two decades have been a good time to be in the demo business.

The report details the following:

• Since 1993, more than 1 in every 8 single family homes, or 1,066 of 8,440, was demolished in the City of Winter Park.    This ratio is more than double the national average.

• Not surprisingly, areas with older homes and valuable land, such as the “Vias” in Winter Park, have been particularly hard-hit. If you define the Vias as the area bound by Palmer Avenue on the South, Temple Drive on the East, Lake Maitland on the West and Howell Branch Road on the North, 174 homes were razed in two decades, about 10 each year.

• Of the 61 houses on Via Tuscany, one in three are ‘replacement’ houses that did not exist 20 years ago.  This number was exceeded only on Venetian Way, which saw 22 of its homes razed.

• 13 of 46 of the houses on Via Lugano have been demolished and replaced in the last 20 years.

• Of the 10 houses on the Isle of Sicily, only 4 existed in 1990. Only 1 existed in 1980.

The bottom line is that over the last 20 years, for every one house protected by our Historic Preservation program, five homes were demolished.

Sadly, there is an economic incentive for the city of Culture and History, in difficult budgeting times, to allow its older, smaller homes to be replaced with Supersized versions.  As with most all municipalities, Winter Park’s budget is directly tied to individual property values, and replacing a $400,000 bungalow with a $4 million behemoth yields obvious near-term fiscal benefits. Multiply this increase by, let’s say, 1066, and we’re talking real money.

Yet the intent of this blog post is not to decry all, or even most, home demolitions. Should every nondescript cinderblock rancher be preserved in perpetuity, simply because it’s achieved AARP status?  Of course not.  Is it possible, though, that the City of Culture and History may be complicit in the destruction of some of its most valuable assets – its unique historic architecture? Could we be standing by while the baby is tossed out with the bathwater? Absolutely.

The challenge, then, is deciding which homes should be protected as historically significant, and which ones left vulnerable to the wrecking ball of progress.  Let’s be clear: this discernment process will require some governmental authority making a value judgment on what should be saved, and this is anathema to private property purists.  Yet we fool ourselves if we think that government doesn’t already limit what we can do with our property.  If the guy down the block hasn’t paved his front yard to set up a brake repair business, you have zoning to thank.  If your neighbor hasn’t built a four-story tower looming over your backyard, thank P & Z.  Historic preservation is just one more tool communities have to protect the value and quality of life in their neighborhoods.

Consider what other Florida communities have done to protect historic buildings from overzealous development:

Review of Demolition Requests: Ten years ago, as a result of the loss of historically significant non-designated buildings, the Coral Gables City Commission passed an ordinance that requires its Historic Preservation Officer’s approval of ALL demolitions.  If a building is deemed historic by staff, the request is referred to the Preservation Board, which undertakes a full assessment.  Since the ordinance has been in place, the HP Board has denied only 50 out of 750 demolition requests.  Those 50 properties were then granted protection status on the City’s Register of Historic Places; the other 700 were demolished—hardly an all-out war on property rights.  Jacksonville, Sarasota and Islamorada are among cities that have similar review processes.

Demolition delays/waiting periods:  St. Augustine has an ordinance that requires HP board review of demolition requests for the following: buildings that are over 50 years old, buildings recorded on the state inventory (Florida Master Site File), buildings in historic preservation zoning districts, and contributing buildings to National Register districts.  A delay may be imposed for up to 24 months while solutions to a proposed demolition are sought.  Additionally, with granting a demolition, the board may require documentation and salvage, as well as a requirement that full building plans be prepared prior to the release of the demolition permit.   New Smyrna Beach, Melbourne, Naples and St. Petersburg have delay ordinances worthy of study as well.

Hardly a new idea, ordinances safeguarding historically significant buildings actually predate the Roman Empire.  Even Stonehenge, privately owned in the 1800s, was nearly demolished when the British government intervened.  To his credit, Winter Park Mayor Ken Bradley recently told Sentinel columnist Beth Kassab he wants the city to review its entire demolition process. This is the right move. The Friends of Casa Feliz look forward to working in cooperation with city leaders to strengthen our preservation ordinance, and to safeguard Winter Park’s architectural heritage for future generations to enjoy.