Drexel Shaft Implosion

Drexel_Shaft

[FROM 2400 CHESTNUT ST.]

Advertisements

Eulogy for a Shaft: The 30th Street Station Steam Heating Plant

booted-car-stack
[SHAFTED]

I consider the Drexel Shaft to be that good friend with a quiet solid presence.  Like a lot of utilitarian remnants of Philadephia’s industrial past, the Shaft has receded from our daily awareness–it looms there as a kind of monument to industrial productivity.  Though the Shaft seems to stand outside of time, by 8:00AM this Sunday the Shaft will have completed its “lifecycle”–a coordinated demolition will (hopefully) pirouette the 400′ octagonal stack down into a narrow patch of ground in one of the country’s most active rail yards.

IMG_0912
[REFLECTIONS OF A SHAFT]

Designed by Graham, Anderson, Probst and White and constructed in 1929, what the architects called the 30th Street Station Steam Heating Plant was more than just an appendage to 30th Street Station, much more than a workaday piece of railroading.  It really didn’t provide electricity for the Pennsylvania Railroad and despite what some say it had little to do with the demolition of the Chinese Wall and Broad Street Station–that station was electrified for 24 years before it met the wrecking ball.  According to the chronicler of all things Graham, Anderson, Probst and White, Sally A. Kitt Chappel, the plant was integral to the Pennsylvania Railroad’s entry into the urban land development business.  Watching with envy how their nemesis New York Central’s Grand Central Station had reinvigorated Park Avenue, the PRR had pushed for a new Philadelphia station since the 1920s.  Having through trains back in and out of the stub end Broad Street Station was tedious, plus the Pennsylvania wanted all the land covered by the Wilson Brothers’ behemoth and the Chinese Wall.  The Chicago-based Graham, Anderson, Probst and White (the successor to Daniel Burnham’s firm) was to give a gloss and sheen to the Railroad’s new real estate development program, known internally as the Philadelphia Improvements. Less a station than an office building, Suburban Station (1930) was the first attempt to inspire private capital to fill the Railroad’s land.  Where once were the elevated tracks of the Chinese Wall, the PRR saw an unbroken line of new modern skyscrapers all along the aptly named Pennsylvania Boulevard.  But World War II prevented the railroad from dispensing with the Chinese Wall and Broad Street Station, and the city and state delayed in expanding little old Filbert Street into a grand boulevard, so 30th Street sat (and arguably still sits) at the end of a less than triumphant faux Park Avenue.

IMG_0946
[THE ORIGINAL PENN CENTER, AS CONCEIVED BY GRAHAM, ANDERSON, PROBST AND WHITE]

The Steam Heating Plant was designed to provide all the steam heat needed for skyscrapers along the Pennsylvania Boulevard commercial corridor.  Thinking big, Graham, Anderson, Probst and White sketched out a flexible modernist facility capable of expanding to four smokestacks depending on the needs of real estate.  The one stack that was completed gives an idea of the success of the Railroad’s real estate ventures.  By the time Penn Center was developed as a PRR project, buildings no longer needed central steam heat.  Steam heat passed via pipes through the suburban track bridge–built at the same time–down to Suburban Station.

IMG_0935
[A DREXEL STUDENT’S NIGHTMARE, GAPW STEAM HEATING PLANT PROPOSAL]

The Steam Heating Plant is a logical link between the Art Deco of Suburban and the chaste neoclassicism of 30th Street.  Like Paul Cret’s Southwark Generating Plant, the Steam Heating Plant’s facade is dominated by the no-nonsense verticality of its rectangular banks of windows.  The octagonal stack is borderline Gothic: ascending like a spire it makes you forget it belched coal smoke.  It was fire and power cloaked in white fire-baked brick and terra cotta.

Ironically, buildings become new things in their obsolescence.  The last time the inclined straight-tube cross drum boilers were fired up was 1964; since then the structure has become a symbol of institutional frustration and a canvas for taggers and lovers.  I would have loved to see the stack illuminated as an icon for West Philly. Or fitted with the same LEDs that bejewel the Cira Center to knit together the rail yard landscape.  But despite our love of all things old, it could never have been chic condos, retrofitted offices or a modern art museum.  Railroads, however, do develop land occupied by obsolete facilities: something the Steam Heating Plant would have understood.

Mantua Hall Implosion from Lemon Hill

[excerpted from “A New Look at Public Housing”: A Summary of the Report of the Committee on Public Housing Policy, Basic Policies for Public Housing for Low Income Families in Philadelphia, 1957, p. 2]

“New projects should be primarily of row houses rather than elevator buildings in order to provide children with yard space, prepare families for eventual home ownership, and provide more of the four and five bedroom units needed by Philadelphia’s families.  While accepting elevator apartments for single persons and families with no children, the Committee notes that ‘experience in Philadelphia has been that elevator apartments have been used to achieve high densities without undue land coverage but with resulting project and neighborhood congestion’ and goes on to say that ‘it would be preferable to build no public housing projects at all rather than to construct project that increase the density of an already congested area.’ The Committee advocates more flexibility in federal regulations regarding the ratio of land cost to total project to make low density, row house developments possible in cleared areas.” (emphasis added)

rubble_mantua_hall.jpg

[excerpted from Twenty Years of Service: The Story of Public Housing in Philadelphia, 1937-1957, p. 26]

“The large developments made possible a new kind of neighborhood planning, better adapted to the automobile age than the gridiron street system–that is, better for the person living or walking in the neighborhood.  Among the most attractive blocks in Philadelphia are those with almost no through traffic. Large block planning also attempts to have convenient service roads going into the neighborhood.  Through traffic, however, is encouraged to pass by on the outside.  The resulting increase in livability is obvious.  Automobiles are often described as one of the chief villains of blight. As traffic increases, there is a sharp increase in problems of danger, noise and irritation and lack of parking space.  The planning of large blocks, such as at Schuylkill Falls, Wilson Park and Mill Creek all show what can be done to return neighborhoods to their residents.

Medium sized developments have been built on one to several existing city blocks.  It is economical not to change existing street and utility patterns, at least in the short run. Such housing developments have added attractive open space, interior parking, safe small play yards within the existing blocks, and the usual accompaniments of improved housing, safety, adequate light and air, good room sizes and the prevention of overcrowding.  Harrison Plaza, Mill Creek and Hawthorne Square are good examples of fitting the medium sized development into existing street patterns.”