Permeable Blocks

Going Off the Grid in Old City

Old City Philadelphia, 1811.

When I got to the top of the stairs and saw the dead squirrel lying in the dirt, barely three blocks from the Liberty Bell, I mused once again on Philadelphia's apparent inability to sustain a performance. Maestro, cue the tone-deaf trombones.

My friend Joe Schiavo tells me it used to be a lot worse. The area at the top of the stairs, now a parking lot, used to be a hot spot for short dumping. Still, the center of this block should be a Grand Central Station for distributing pedestrians - both tourists and locals - among the various destinations that lie a stone's throw from my dead squirrel. And it's not.

The pedestrian walkways through this block already exist. The east-west route actually extends from the mall, between Fifth and Sixth Streets, past Christ Church at Second Street, and all the way through to Front Street. The north-south route joins the Arch Street Meeting House to the north with Franklin Court just south of Market, and continues through the National Park to Old St. Joseph's Church, just south of Walnut.

However, there is a hitch in the north-south route - a gate at the southern edge of the Arch Street Meeting's property. This gate seems to be locked all the time.

Here's what the area around the gate looks like. The dead squirrel is just to the right, out of the picture.

Perhaps not a jungle, but definitely a jumble.

The gate is actually separating two parking lots - the lot for the Arch Street Meeting House to the north, and the parking lot to the south, which lies behind buildings that front on Third and also Market.

The gate issue is easily fixed with a key. But there's a reason the gate is locked. The parking lot at the center of the block - where all the walkways converge - is a very uninviting space. To put it charitably, this lot does not meet the City's current design standards for parking lots. (See Putting Some Park into Old Parking Lots.)

Here's what the bad-boy lot looks like. The stairs that lead to the walkways running south and west are just out of sight to the right.

There's also room for garbage. (Think sheds, at the very least. See What Should We Do With the Humble Dumpster?)

And here's my favorite wall. Something assembled by people who simply do not give a damn.

The one good thing about the mess in the middle of the block is that it's hard to see unless you're standing right on top of it. There's a significant grade change right in the center of the block, which is why there are stairs.

Don't forget to set the hand brake.

From Fifth to Third
Let's back up and talk about some of the parts that are pretty. The walkway, as I mentioned, begins in the west at Fifth Street, across from the mall. It would be nice if there were a mid-block crossing here, so people visiting the mall might actually feel invited to go see where the walkway takes them.

Between Fifth and Fourth things are quite lovely. I was puzzled by this oddity. My brother thinks it may be a work of art - bench frames standing in for benches, part for the whole. Sort of like the ghost structures at Franklin Court.

Ghost benches.

The pretty part continues across Fourth Street, which could also use a mid-block crossing. This area is formally known as the Commerce Street Walkway, after a street that used to run just north of Market and now lives mainly in memory and old maps. Commerce Square, in the 2000 block of Market, takes its name from Commerce Street.

Commerce Street Walkway, from Fourth Street.

If you look carefully, you can see the wall and the parking lot in the distance, but they're hardly detracting from the bucolic ambience.

When you hit the wall, you need to turn left to go up the steps or right to go to Market Street. The walk down to Market is rather barren, but there is a nice outdoor eating area attached to a restaurant.

This may be Orianna Street. Or maybe not.

If you go left up the steps you come to the ugly part, but you can push through to Third Street on Wistar Alley.

Wistar Alley.

Some nice pavers in the foreground. I'd love to see what's underneath all the asphalt. The alley itself is rather dark and unadorned. Calling Isaiah Zagar. Let's do mosaics with lots mirror shards, like the 800 block of Pemberton. (See My New Favorite Alley.)

Building across the street not my problem today.

It's important to remember the purpose of the exercise here. The basic purpose of fixing the walkways in the 300 block is to allow people to move easily through the block to get to adjacent destinations, like Franklin Court south of Market and Christ Church east of Third. We need to raise our game on this block so that people will feel comfortable rambling east from the Liberty Bell and discovering Philadelphia as a nineteenth-century city.

For that we need to learn how to sustain our performance. No flat trombones. No dead squirrels.

Here's what's available just across Third Street, on Church Street, not far from Christ Church. We need to live up to this.

Church Street.

So Who Cares About Going Off the Grid?
I do, and I think I have very good reasons. But first let's back up and glance at a little history.

Philadelphia's basic street grid dates to William Penn's 1682 plan, which was "aspirational" - the city didn't exist yet. When settlers who had purchased land showed up, they rapidly started adding little streets between Penn's big ones. (They also built out the city north and south along the Delaware, rather than expanding west toward the Schuylkill, but that's another story.)

Most of these little streets run generally north-south or east-west, like the ones in Penn's grid, but they often don't line up from block to block. You need to scoot a little bit right or left to pick up your little street again - and it may have a different name. Sometimes a little street will just go away - sometimes they come back a block or two later; sometimes they don't. And sometimes a little street is just a stub, ending in the middle of the block.

So it's not a grid the way William's 1682 plan is.

This pattern recurs widely throughout the older parts of the city, but it is particularly notable in Old City. And it is in Old City where these little streets are best placed to be a major tourist attraction.

I think there has been a tendency to view these streets as a mildly embarrassing remnant of our pre-modern past - after all, some of them are so narrow you can barely fit a car down them, let alone a beer truck. (And some are really tiny, like Grindstone Alley near Christ Church. It's just about six feet wide, wall to wall. I measured it.)

Grindstone Alley.

The Role of Permeable Blocks
What purpose do such streets serve in a modern city? As you may have guessed, I have an answer to that question: I think that the little streets, or alleys, offer a significant and sustainable competitive advantage built around human scale.

Old City is really two cities laid on top of one another - the modern, car-dominated city, and an older, almost accidental city that is profoundly human in its scale and appeal.

The alleys of Old City can be charming, quirky, occasionally mysterious, sometimes surprising. Oh, did I mention historical? Elfreth's Alley, commonly known as the nation's oldest residential street, is a National Historic Landmark. Only a short walk from the Betsy Ross House, it is located between Front and Second Street, north of Arch and south of Quarry.

But my new favorite alley is Cuthbert Street between Front and Second, a bit south of Arch and a stone's throw from Christ Church. It's just loaded with charm.

Cuthbert Street.

Recently I was sitting in my new favorite cafe, Old City Coffee on Church Street, when a happy and energetic group of middle-aged Italian tourists bustled in. As they were settling in to a collection of tables, one of the cafe's more senior people came out and explained to them in Italian how to order. And I think they liked the place, and liked the narrow Belgian block street out the window, the virtual absence of cars, and even though it clearly wasn't home, I think they felt at home.

When it comes to tourists, I think the big issue is to lure them away from the Liberty Bell and into Old City. Once they get there, I think they'll like it. Foreigners may find it comfortable. Americans may find it unfamiliar - even odd - but perhaps also charming.

I think there are big benefits for locals as well. Whether they live in Old City or work there, or are in from another neighborhood, perhaps to go to an art gallery or the Arden Theater, or to buy a bar stool at Mr. Bar Stool (that's an actual store, not far from Elfreth's Alley), you have more than one way to walk to your destination. You can get off the big grid and have a quiet ramble, maybe even let yourself get a little bit lost, if you enjoy that sort of thing.

Sustaining the Performance
All of these possibilities already exist in Old City. There are just a few spots that could use some tidying up, and the block we've been talking about is, to my mind, at the top of that list.

I mentioned my friend Joe Schiavo at the top of this story. He and Janet Kalter and their non-profit organization, Old City Green, led the successful 2016 makeover of Girard Fountain Park, across the street from the Arch Street Meeting House, and are now leading a project, including a Community Design Collaborative planning grant, to bring the 300 block of the Commerce Street Walkway up to its full potential as a community amenity. I spoke with them, and also with David Rubin, the landscape architect, Job Itzkowitz, executive director of the Old City District, and Jonas Maciunas, who consults with the Old City District and was a principal author of the Old City Vision 2026 planning document. I'm grateful for their insights. However, the opinions I express here are my own.

My understanding is that soon we will be seeing some proposed designs. I look forward to commenting on them, but first I wanted to do this story, to lay out the context and to encourage people to think not just about what these improvements will do for the block, but also what they can do for the whole of Old City.

One Last Thing
I've concentrated in this story on the potential to make it easier and more pleasant for people to move around Old City. But Commerce Street Walkway should also be a place for people to hang out. In fact, it already is. The benches in the 300 block regularly sport a variety of people taking the air, wielding cigarettes, cell phones, and laptops, or just sitting.

Here's my idea. At the top of the steps, place a few tables and some chairs. (I am stealing this idea, of course, from Dilworth Park and Love Park.) Oh, and throw in a gelato stand. Call it the Dead Squirrel Cafe. Or maybe not.

Cobblestones, Cuthbert Street.

See also Alleys, This Isn't Just Any Alley, A Tale of Three Alleys, City Beautiful Sprouts on Cypress Street,  Small Streets Are Like Diamonds, Second and Chestnut, The Invitation, The Future of Christ Church Park.