These properties (as well as several not shown here) form a sub-block which is entirely derelict, and unsecured. One adjacent building appeared to have one tenant still inside despite numerous broken widows, and a really nice car out front with tinted windows….needless to say we got out of there pretty fast. Quoth my co-mapper: “This feels like one of the worst places I’ve ever been. And I say that having been to the mouth of the Argentinian harbor in La Boca where the fetid water boils from nothing but the force of it’s own putrification. Not that anything is particularly putrid on this property, but the despair is palpable. All four properties are burned, unsecured, and covered with graffiti by artist like “Tears” and “Omen” (as well as the Famous Bloods”). The properties have dozens of mailboxes to reflect how many people were once stacked in here, and surrounded a terrible courtyard that overlooks the remains of some sort of now-defuct commercial space [pictured in 88 veazie property card]“
Also Nearby:
- 290 Veazie St. This is on
I noticed the incline in the first picture, I assume that is close to the natural angle of repose. Remember, in those days foundations were dug by hand. Probably the reason for the high foundation, they didn’t want to dig too deep.
Fire from November 27th, 2007.
Looks like a decent neighborhood in the Live Maps Bird’s Eye view. And just a stone’s throw from PC.
That beautiful brick building, at least, could be revived and made to shine again. It kills me to look at what a lot of Providence has become. I have to keep reminding myself that there was a time – not long ago – in the 1940’s and earlier – that most of Providence was a decent and safe place to live. I was talking recently with a woman whose family lived for many years on Bergen and Harold streets. Her grandparents had been living in that neighborhood since the 1880’s. She was telling me about how safe and “family oriented” it was and how there was never a question about danger because it just didn’t exist there – or wouldn’t have been allowed to exist there.
Trash moved in and trash destroyed it. Truth is best.
Someday, with luck, Providence’s western neighborhoods may be reborn again. I hope so – but it’ll mean removing the trash. It won’t happen, otherwise; it’ll just keep getting worse.
I think it is all in who you talk to. Most of my older relatives grew up in Providence. They tell me that “nice Irish girls” didn’t dare walk in Italian neighborhoods (I don’t mean to imply potential rape, more likely catcalls and harassment). Italian boys didn’t walk in Irish neighborhoods.
My father is from the South, where “hyphenated-Americans” were unknown. He was amazed at the “Italo American” clubs and “New Hiberians”. Since they were all “New Americans” to him, he couldn’t understand the disputes and rivalery between them. Nor could he understand how various city departments fire, police, water, etc. were regarded as “Irish” or “Italian”.
Since these neighborhoods were never “toney”, when you hear stories from several generations ago it is well to remember that it was an era when poor people didn’t know they were poor. They worked with people like themselves, they lived in neighborhoods with people like themselves. Television changed all that. Everyone was brought nose to nose with an inflated ideal. See if you can find a rerun of a 50’s TV show. Doris Day is a secretary and lives in a Manhatten penthouse.
For all of that, a crucial factor was owner occupancy. Three Deckers have been called the “mailman’s estate plan”. People expected to live there semi-permanently and raised famalies in rented apartments. It wasn’t a “starter home”. I sent a picture from this site to a retired guy I know from another forum, he pointed out that what was missing from the pictures was housewives sweeping sidewalks and gardens in the rear, surrounded by grape vines.
He lives in Florida and made an interesting comment “Have you ever heard of anyone retiring and moving up North?”.
I have made the point before that P{rovidence’s population is now 40% smaller than it was in 1950. (This does not count illegal aliens, I don’t think. Perhaps it does.) It should not be surprising that there is surplus housing, housing should certainly be cheap. Some of the slack has been taken up by changing lifestyles, “20 somethings” do not live with their parents. Still, the economic engines (Brown&Sharpe, Corliss Engine, American Locomotive, the jewelry business, etc) are all gone. Who remebers that Brown & Sharpe were once internationally known and the largest employer in Providence. For this property to be saved, the “economic engine” has to be restarted. Providence has to become desireable again. A good example is Detroit. 40% of houses are abandoned (every other one), houses are less money than a new car, no one is rushing in.
“Urban Resurrection” wil be talked about for about with little activity for another 38 months, the next election. The majority of decayed urban areas are in Blue States and Democrats cannot win without them. Serious urban planners are now talking about demolition and parks. Makes sense when you realize that you are supporting a physical plant built for a population 40% larger than current demand (ever driven in Vienna, the population is 50% of what it was when the streets were built). “Demolition and parks” will reduce fire and police costs, and just about every other city cost. That, of course, is the goal. Much as I enjoy urban areas, America has moved to the suburbs. That seems to be universal. I thought of that while taking a major highway into Mayan ruins, I thought “they built a good highway and everyone left. Good bye, Chichinitza!”.
Excellent post, Faust! Thank you!
That was funny (and true) about entering alien neighborhoods! I can remember a time when an Irish Catholic person and an Italian Catholic person daring to marry was referred to as a “mixed marriage”. True. And funny,too.
Also:
Most of my positive feelings about Providence are the result of my genealogical research. I grew up in North Kingstown during the 50’s and 60’s and never cared a hoot about the past. Although I knew that my family had all come to – and out of – Providence starting in the middle 1800’s, I never paid any attention to the tabletalk of my Grandparents or other relatives when they nattered on about ‘the old days’ because it was boring and done. I wanted the future.
Now, of course, I could kick myself for having been so vacant and careless. Now, when it’s too late, I would give my right arm to be able to sit with them and listen …
When I was growing up, Providence was ‘the big city’: busy, fast and rather scary. Downtown was still the center of serious, commercial business and (just about) everybody who went there dressed up for the occasion. As I got a little older, I’d cut school and take the bus there to spend the day, aimlessly, walking around. It never dawned on me that I was walking through my family’s history.
I never made the emotional connection between the city and my family until I began investigating old census tracts, city directories, birth registries, death registries and the all-important neighborhood churches that were the center of my – and most other – families’ lives. My father was born on Robinson Street, in Dogtown, in 1919. An older sister was born on Bogman in 1913. Their father ran a small store at 371 Richmond Street that doubled as a speakeasy during Prohibition and I’ve found three, different search warrants for that address. Part of my family spent 50 years up around Bergen and Harold Streets and another part settled around Elm and Elbow when it was still a residential neighborhood. My grandfather was born up near the corner of Amy and Ives, in Fox Point, in 1881 – and just about everybody seems to have been married at St. Joseph’s on Hope St.
Now that I’ve finally established that critical emotional connection, the Providence that I’m enjoying exploring and learning about seems like nothing more than a sad, deathly ghost of a place – and that makes me deeply saddened with a gut-punching sense of loss. I suppose that it’s a metaphor for all the dead family members whose value I wasn’t capable of recognizing while they were alive and available to me.
Thank you, again, for your excellent post, Faust. I’ll look forward to reading your new ones.
Treestump, glad you liked my post. Never thought about my geneaology much except to know that it is Southern, all first born males have the same name for 7 generations and we have all gone to the same college for 5 generations. Being Southern, there is a “family Bible” which records births, deaths and marriages back to around the Civil War. I ran into some fellow “red necks” at an industrial auction a few weeks ago. They were amazed by a few things here, no one offered them a lemonade (you have to be Southern to get that, Baptists don’t offer a stranger an alcholic drink) and they hadn’t met a fellow Republican. Talk turned to “roots” such as our family graveyards which go back over 9 generations (no need to search for death certificates). Since there was no immigration to the South, everyone has Revolutionary War ancestors. The question to establish your “bona fides” is “How many at Gettysberg?”. I only know it was 17 in my case because I visted there and read the “Book of the Dead” (I believe that NC suffered the most casualties a G-berg. My direct ancestor was in the 9th Virginia Calvary, Lee’s Light Horse. He was lost, but not at Gettysberg). Of course, when you are from a town so small that there were only 738 people and five names, it isn’t hard to figure out who your relatives were. I just Googled that town, Wolfscrape, NC. I wasn’t surprised that 30% listed their ancestry on the census as “American” (everyone has been there so long that they have no idea “where they came from”. Most are likely Scotch/Irish, you’ve probably noticed “Scarlett’s” last name.), I was surprised that the population is now 35% Hispanic. My relatives complain that NC is going to be posting road signs in Spanish. All that is changing. 1,000,000 Northeasteners have moved to NC in the last decade. As they say there “They are bringing their attitudes with them”.
My mother is from Providence which is how I ended up here. I guess she couldn’t stand the pig roasts and lemonade.
Treestump, since you mention Catholic “mixed marriages”, here is another True Story from the Old South. My mother was probably the first Catholic my father ever spoke with, or met. After they moved to RI, and he was home alone, the following happened as my father describes it. He found a small, dark, man standing on the porch “talking in tongues” (I suppose Latin was still the language of “blessings”). Having no idea what to make of this, my father removed him bodily from the property.
the property at 88 Veasy street contains 4 buildings (2 burnt out) and is for sale at $110k. Maybe the city could take these four, plus adjacent abandoned buildings, and sell them to a re-developer. I’d invest some money and time into making a college on the property, but as I only have about $10k available right now it’s not enough. The brick residential building looks eminently salvageable and would be a nice dorm. The two wooden buildings look like they should be torn down. 108 veasy is a one story commercial/retail building that looks like it could be made into a decent classroom. Perhaps other houses in the area could be bought and turned into classrooms & administrative buildings, research labs, etc. but in the long term some purpose-built structures would be needed.
Although these do no look burned, it is well to remember that brick buildings are not “fire proof”. If there is enough heat, the brick “spawls”. So far as I know, there is no repair.