A Trip to the Springs

In the mountains connecting Virginia and West Virginia, there are countless mineral springs. Many of the springs became popular in the 18th and 19th centuries, first as healing springs and later as resorts. The different minerals and compositions of the waters were thought to heal most any ill either by drinking or bathing in the water. Most of these places had hotels at one time and traces of the resorts can be found in the landscape as well as in descriptive road and community names: Red Sulphur, White Sulphur, Blue Sulphur, Green Sulphur, Yellow Sulphur, Sweet Sulphur, Sweet Chalybeate, Sweet, Hot, Warm...

We were fortunate this weekend, to have the opportunity to attend a conference at The Homestead in Hot Springs, Virginia. While the first resort buildings were built in the 1700s, the large brick hotel seen today wasn't built until the early 1900s. The building was built in the Colonial Revival style with plenty of columns, pilasters, floor-to-ceiling windows to let in natural light, and sumptuous spaces to delight the preservationist in me. Sitting in the Grand Hall, you can imagine well-known guests from years past arriving with their entourages or making their way to dinner. The Homestead has hosted presidents from Washington to Clinton and the rich and famous from financiers like J. Pierpont Morgan to well-known names like Thomas Edison. 

The Homestead is, today, still a place known for its excellence and not one that we can frequent often, but it is fun to imagine the past while we are there. To imagine the intrepid travelers in the 18th and 19th centuries who came to Hot Springs by horseback, wagon, or stagecoach, from Eastern Virginia and other areas of the South, climbing the curvy mountain roads, carrying their many trunks of elegant clothing, to heal in the springs or enjoy resort activities. Even today, there are many roads to The Homestead, but no easy way there. It is a slow, winding, uphill trek in a car on paved roads, but by horse on dirt roads? Wow.

We also stopped to visit the bath houses at Jefferson Pools in Warm Springs. Unfortunately, though owned by The Homestead, they don't seem to be faring as well as the hotel. The Gentlemen's Spa was built in 1761 and the women's in 1836. Both are large frame buildings inclosing the spring-fed pools that naturally run at about 98 degrees. Though still open to the public, the exteriors of the buildings show wear with missing wooden shingles and rotted boardwalks. The buildings were placed on Preservation Virginia's Most Endangered List in 2010 and were listed as Threatened by the National Trust for Historic Preservation in 2011. The local Friends of the Pool have mobilized to save the bath houses, but without hotel's blessing, that can't happen. Hopefully, The Homestead will decide soon to preserve and restore the bath houses to a level becoming of such a luxury hotel before it is too late.

Deferred Maintenance Strikes Again

In the center of our little town, we have an old brick high school building built in 1931.  In a story similar to many communities, the town outgrew the high school and in 1961, a new high school was built.  The old school was used by elementary school students until 1987.  It has been the town community center in the time since.  We have a wonderful recreation program that uses the old gym, the auditorium is used for community programs, and there are some town offices in the building as well.  

Unfortunately, the school is still owned by the school system who has deferred maintenance over the years.  Today, among other things, the roof leaks and has damaged the old wooden gym floors to a point that they need to be fixed before the floors become a safety hazard.  The school system wants to sell the school to the town rather than fix the problems.  The town isn't sure they want to take on the liability of a building that they need to spend a minimum of $150,000 on just to get the roof and gym floors fixed.  

The town estimates it will cost $2.5 million to fully renovate it.  That may be an inflated number to spin favor away from the building or it may be on target.  Due to this dollar figure, town council is now discussing the idea of demolishing a historic brick building that anchors one end of town, contributes to the scenic view of the duck pond area, and has lasted for 80 years and will easily last another 80 if  properly maintained.  Their plan?  Build a nondescript "shell building" for $1.5 million that might last for 30 years if they're lucky to replace the spaces the recreation program will lose if the building is demolished.  

In other words, they have a plan to replace character with mediocrity, and long-term investment with short-term consumption.  Demolition is permanent.  And it's not free. The tangible costs of removing debris and preparing the site for new construction and the intangible costs caused by the changes to the fabric of the community are both mighty expensive in a small town struggling to maintain its unique identity.

When Preservation by Neglect Becomes Demolition by Neglect

I'm sure some of you thought I had lost my mind advocating preservation by neglect in my last post.  There is a fine line between preservation by neglect and demolition by neglect.  A building that has been mothballed, or closed up with a tight roof and closed windows, locked doors, and a solid foundation, will remain a viable part of the streetscape through years of neglect.  However, the minute the roof starts to leak, the windows are broken, or the doors are kicked in, demolition by neglect sets in.  The building's demise is heartbreaking to watch and is often the result of an equally sad situation such as bankruptcy or death of the owner or crime in the neighborhood.  The final result is often a mandate from the municipality that the neglected building be demolished because it is hazardous to passerby.  

Unfortunately, demolition by neglect can be used by unscrupulous developers and home owners to circumvent historic district architectural review boards (ARB).  Examples abound of developers wanting to tear down a historic building to replace it with a McMansion or commercial behemoth that does not fit into the architectural guidelines.  Rather than work with the ARB, the developer will sometimes ignore their ruling and remove architectural features from the building such as siding or windows and then leave the building in that state where the weather will begin the demolition process.  A high profile example of this situation is happening in Waterford, Virginia  where the Simms' House was caught up in such a maelstrom that began in 1996, resulted in the demolition of the neglected and structurally compromised house in 2006, and continues today as a fight over what can be built on the lot.

In our area, a rather public case of demolition by neglect is culminating with the razing of the old Blacksburg Middle School (Renee Kuhlmann's morning commute in yesterday's PreservationNation post).  Due to budgetary issues, Montgomery County didn't maintain the building.  Roof leaks ruined the gym floor and caused severe mold problems.  While many saw the building as a potential community center, the County saw it as a cash cow with its location on Main Street at the southern gateway to downtown and its acres of athletic fields.  Ironically, the lack of maintenance quite possibly cost the County additional money when the Blacksburg High School gym collapsed last year, causing a scramble to rehouse high school and then middle school students.  After much consternation, middle schoolers are commuting to neighboring Christiansburg to attend their old Middle School which had been maintained. and asbestos is being removed from the neglected old Blacksburg Middle School in preparation for its upcoming demolition.   The County will have its cash cow, while middle school students will remain in Christiansburg until a new high school is built.