 "Photo: Miles Wisniewski")
“If they [Loyola University] asked me for my opinion, I would say leave the buildings up. But — of course — no one asked me,” longtime Rogers Park resident Bruno Roti said.
Emphasis ours.
In owning the buildings located at the southwest corner of Albion Avenue and Sheridan Road, Loyola had incurred a development dilemma: renovate and bring the buildings up to code (a $500,000 option) or demolish the structures altogether (a $100,000 option)? The university chose the latter (See: “LU building demolished” pg. 1), and we at the Phoenix believe this decision to be a rational one. In the current “economic setting,” where grant funding and financial aid runs tighter than normal, we cannot find the university’s financially responsible choice blameworthy.
Loyola plans to eventually build new facilities upon the site, the process of which will, understandably, take time (potentially up to three years) for development, planning and construction. The question arises: What will occupy that space in the interim?
Answer: a fenced-in gravel lot.
The view from our neighborhood Chipotle suddenly becomes quite uninviting (assuming you found it picturesque prior). Sandwiched between two fenced gravel lots, Beck’s Bookstore, Bruno’s Lounge and Carmen’s Pizzeria find themselves scrambling for higher ground in this shrinking urban island.
Not that Loyola didn’t try to avoid this dreary landscape: Originally the university had entertained the intention of providing a temporary garden at the site for Loyola’s Center for Environmental Research and Policy — but insufficient soil and air quality at the location nullified the idea. Fair. We applaud the effort, but pose the question: What lack of creativity and will power made the university stop exploring further possible uses of the lot?
The Phoenix feels that rather than adhering to the gravel pit solution, surely Loyola could explore further feasible options for the transitory usage of the lot. Perhaps a simple, small field for club sports to practice on or a playground for the community’s children to enjoy? Something, anything, rather than nothing. Because while the sunk cost of a half million dollars to keep the buildings was avoided, the truth is that $100,000 was invested into a gravel pit instead, which can be fixed, we feel, for a fraction of the renovation price tag.
In the long run of the university’s ultimate celebrity makeover plan (involving a new business school building downtown and putting Damen Hall to sleep), we know that a potential three-year void on a corner relatively secluded from the rest of campus isn’t a very long time in the university’s eyes. They deal with scopes of decades. They deal with prime downtown real estate. But in student time, three years (provided that construction is even completed by the third year) is a very long time indeed, perhaps three-fourths of an entire collegiate experience. For 75 percent of a student’s career, absolutely no inspiration will arise from that Albion corner, a passing point for much of the north campus commuters.
But we don’t simply make this argument on the behest of students. On Sept. 23 at the Crown Center Auditorium, a number of community members of Rogers Park expressed anxiety that The Pit would look unappealing and could increase crime in an already increasingly unsafe environment. Bruno Roti, owner of Bruno’s Lounge, feels that the demolition will disrupt his business. Alderman Joe Moore stated, “Loyola has emphasized that they do not need any approval from the city.” True, you don’t, Loyola. But rather than sounding like the stubborn roommate who won’t clean his own room to clear the volume of trash in the entire apartment, why not take action on this dialogue and consider the voices of residents? Because at the heart of it, maintaining the gravel lot solution is a slight to the vibrancy of Rogers Park.
Loyola University rightfully reminds students to follow the ethical codes of the Good Neighbor Policy, to make sure that as alien college students we do not disturb the natural habitat of the community. Yet, in plugging their ears and shaking their tails at students and community members, we believe that Loyola has not been an entirely good neighbor itself.
But, of course, no one asked us.
5 comments
While other Chicago universities like DePaul and especially Columbia creatively preserve and restore older buildings for reuse, Loyola is still hewing to a tired, outdated urban renewal strategy of tearing down structurally sound buildings, sitting on them until the perfect opportunity presents itself and replacing them with monstrosities that don't fit into the surrounding urban fabric. 20 years ago there were storefronts from Devon to Albion offering a range of services for students and other residents. Then came the Granada demolition followed by the piecemeal destruction of Sheridan north of the el and Loyola Ave west of Sheridan. I understand Loyola is land-starved and wants room to grow but there are ways of achieving their objectives that don't involve creating vacant lots on prime commercial real estate next to one of the busiest CTA stations in the city and on what is essentially the main street of their campus.