A historic structure disappears and for those affected by its demise, it feels like an important piece of their lives has been ripped from the community.
Think of the Old South Restaurant in Russellville, which made the paper the other day. The business opened its doors in 1947, becoming a mainstay for the region’s diners and travelers for the next 76 years. Just a few days ago, it burned to the ground in the middle of the night. For its owner, staff and patrons, it was like losing an old friend.
Would it have been any different to the community had the building been demolished so a collection of apartments or townhomes could be constructed?
Which brings me back to a subject I wrote about last week. On Tuesday, the Fayetteville City Council delayed action on a proposal by the Northwest Arkansas Black Heritage Association and two council members to authorize Mayor Lioneld Jordan to use taxpayer dollars to buy properties in historically Black-populated neighborhoods and give them to the association. The purpose, identified by the organization, was “for restoration, redevelopment and advancement of the African American community into the vibrant and thriving district it is meant to be.”
By “delayed,” I really mean rejected. The city attorney emphatically declared that the state constitution prohibited such a direct transaction using public dollars. But City Council members were reticent to reject the measure outright, instead setting it aside temporarily so a collaboration of staff, council members and the association might find a legal path toward the ultimate goal.
The exact nature of that ultimate goal remains a bit vague, but Sharon Killian, who spoke on the Black Heritage Association’s behalf, passionately articulated concerns that development is consuming what remains of Fayetteville neighborhoods that were once predominantly populated by Black residents.
She described Fayetteville as a beacon for Black residents of Northwest Arkansas during decades when other communities did not welcome them. Even so, she described a local history of development trends intentionally designed to “erase” the Black community.
What I heard in her voice was a plea to save long-standing structures that, if left to the economic pressures of Northwest Arkansas’ growth patterns, will be acquired, removed and replaced by “in-fill” construction that the city’s policies have encouraged across town.
The legal questions surrounding the mechanism she and the association brought forward made its approval unwise. But what I also heard from Tuesday night’s meeting was a desire among city leaders to discern a way forward, to find a way the municipality can render aid in the association’s push to save properties it deems important to Black heritage.
What that looks like, nobody appears to quite know yet. After all, private property owners can’t be forced into selling to the association or, short of eminent domain proceedings, to the city. Property owners — Black, white or any other individuals — are no doubt tempted to sell when a developer makes them a good offer, and who can blame them?
There appears to be some notion that a historic district can be formed and perhaps special zoning by the city could be employed to make new construction within that district less tempting for developers. Whether property owners within such a district will be eager to deal away zoning options potentially affecting the dollar value of their properties remains to be seen. As usual, cultural preservation is at odds with economics.
Killian makes a convincing argument for the value of preserving structures that inform Black heritage in Fayetteville. Like most others interested in preservation, the association faces a tough road when profit comes into the equation.