Sam Burnham, Curator

The Oostanaula isn’t a swift moving river. It’s not particularly deep. It makes one last bend as it approaches downtown Rome just before it meets the Etowah to form the Coosa. Inside that bend lies a stretch of land that has a history, and now a future, of its own. 

Prior to 1939, everything that happened on the west bank of the Oostanaula depended on one all-powerful variable - the water level of the river. 1939 was the year that the Army Corps of Engineers completed the levee that now keeps the river in its channel even through the rainiest of days. Before construction of the levee, the river was prone to come up over the bank and flow over the ground. It was not unheard of for the land to be several feet underwater. 

If we go back two centuries, this land was owned by John Ross, a chief of the Cherokee Nation. He had a home on this land. All of his property was seized from him as part of the Cherokee removal. With the Indian (who was of Scottish descent) gone, the land was available to development by white settlers.  ​

The land would become the town of Desota, distinctively separate from Rome which was growing across the river. Through the tenure and demise of Desota, this land was inhabited by gritty, hardy people. Homes in the area were built on six foot tall masonry piers to keep them above the floodwaters. Loggers floated felled trees from upriver to a sawmill that produced lumber. The sawmill work helped earn a section of this area the nickname "Beaverslide."

Even after Rome annexed the land it remained a blue collar area. The levee opened the area for wider development. Welders, machinists, mechanics, buggy makers, glaziers, and electricians, just to name a few, all based their businesses here. Calloused hands fabricated, assembled, repaired, or re-purposed the items that made life possible. And in an old barn, the renowned artist Robert Redden opened his studio.

Now this area, with its history of craftsmanship, is being touted as an arts district. This is the inspiration for a new campaign that has developers, investors, artists, and entrepreneurs moving in and establishing their businesses. Dubbed "The River District," this area is now the location of a flurry of activity. Long-concealed windows are being reopened. Fresh paint is being applied. Long established blue collar businesses are getting new neighbors. There are already restaurants, a bar, a theatre company, a bakery. There are insurance and law offices.
​

The land would become the town of Desota, distinctively separate from Rome which was growing across the river. Through the tenure and demise of Desota, this land was inhabited by gritty, hardy people. Homes in the area were built on six foot tall masonry piers to keep them above the floodwaters. Loggers floated felled trees down the river to a sawmill that produced lumber. The sawmill work helped earn a section of this area the nickname "Beaverslide."

Even after Rome annexed the land it remained a blue collar area. The levee opened the area for wider development. Welders, machinists, mechanics, buggy makers, glaziers, and electricians, just to name a few, all based their businesses here. Calloused hands fabricated, assembled, repaired, or re-purposed the items that made life possible. And in an old barn, the renowned artist Robert Redden opened his studio.

Now this area, with its history of craftsmanship, is being touted as an arts district. This is the inspiration for a new campaign that has developers, investors, artists, and entrepreneurs moving in and establishing their businesses. Dubbed "The River District," this area is now the location of a flurry of activity. Long-concealed windows are being reopened. Fresh paint is being applied. Long established blue collar businesses are getting new neighbors. There are already restaurants, a bar, a theatre company, a bakery. There are insurance and law offices.

Such an eclectic mix of enterprises lays a foundation for a diverse economy. It also creates a staggered effect for parking in the district. Some businesses create a daytime demand while others need those spots in the evening. This effect also applies to employment meaning the district will be producing incomes, and therefore tax revenue, throughout the day and well into the night.

Another development in the district could involve the addition of 200 residential units. Currently there are roughly a dozen residential units in the entire district. Adding residents to the district could change the entire dynamic. At least in recent years people have come here to work or do business. Employees and customers all lived elsewhere. Now this can be a place where, as the trendy adage goes, people can work, live, and play. The urban-mixed use zoning designation opens possibilities for different sorts of development.

If the city leaders handle this district wisely, if they allow local artists and entrepreneurs to thrive there, if they copy the streetscape ideas that have been so successful across the river, this district with thrive and benefit the town and the people who live there. Many times I have cited the assertion of James Kunstler regarding defining space and creating places worth caring about. Building a well-defined and timeless public space will bring people in, therefore encouraging economic and cultural development. If they give in to trendy design ideas and the strip mall mentality, they will ruin the good things that are already going on there. The district will become ugly and dated in a matter of months. ​

This is a potential win. This is where we could see historic preservation combined with new development built in a similar style come together to give birth to the economic and cultural future. Two beautiful and tastefully developed sides of the river, connected by bridges and a long-established trail system could double the size and impact of downtown without the destructive and ugly sprawl that has ruined so many other cities, particularly in North Georgia.

Special thanks to Selena Tilly of the Rome Area History Center and also to Brice Wood and Artagus Newell of the Rome-Floyd County Planning Department for providing essential information for this story.

For now I want to focus on the bridge. This concrete platform is getting a lot of attention right now. City leaders are interested in adapting the bridge to be a pedestrian-friendly portal between Broad Street and the River District. With sidewalks on both sides, foot traffic is already a reality. As the district develops and offers more of an attraction, that traffic is likely to increase.

Among the proposals are eliminating two of the four vehicle traffic lanes in favor of parallel parking. Parking is an issue downtown and city leaders are always looking for ideas. There are other ideas such as park space, such as benches, tables, topiaries, etc.

There are pros and cons to such ideas.

Losing the traffic lanes has drawn criticism. There is traffic on Fifth Avenue but Second Avenue and Turner McCall are the major thoroughfares. With no bridge on the Etowah, Fifth Avenue is limited to through traffic. The four lane section is limited to only a few blocks anyway. Adding aesthetics to the bridge sounds like a great idea which wouldn’t impact normal traffic all that much.
​

There is a lot of potential here but there is also a lot to consider. What sort of plan makes the bridge itself a draw? What makes people want to go there?

The immediate answer is to create value on each end of the bridge. Broad Street already offers shopping, dining, and entertainment. The seat of county government brings people out of necessity. That has one side of the bridge covered. Now to unleash the creativity and entrepreneurial spirit of people to make the River District what it can be.

Once people find value on both banks of the Oostanaula, the bridge will draw people by doing what it was designed to do: carry people from one side to the other, by foot or wheel. At that point the solution could be as simple as some tasteful facade additions to improve the look of the bridge. Perhaps mimicking the iron truss look of the old bridge and some stylish lighting could be sufficient.

It was just revealed in the Rome News-Tribune that Floyd County actually owns the bridge. If that is indeed true they would have to be on board with any plans going forward. Sometimes the City of Rome and Floyd County collaborate really well. Other times, not so much. If the city can present a worthwhile plan, the county would likely go along. Historically, the county seems to be more practical and pragmatic while the city seems to be more willing to experiment with new ideas. Finding middle ground could result in some changes that improve the bridge but keep traffic flowing. That could be a winning option for everyone.

Whatever is eventually done, the River District has the potential to expand on the successes of Broad Street, expanding the cultural and economic influence of downtown. It is a promising opportunity. But like I said, that’s another story...

Sam Burnham, Curator

​It is hard to imagine a more savage and barbaric scene than a track hoe run amok in a historic neighborhood. A dragon with mechanical locomotion and hydraulic jaws ripping timeless craftsmanship to shreds with ease evokes the axiom that great things are difficult to create but can be destroyed in moments. Like the Fourth Beast in the Book of Daniel, nothing beautiful, nothing peaceful, nothing idyllic can survive the onslaught of those iron jaws. Nothing but rubble can remain.

That is precisely what has happened in Athens in recent weeks. The historic Potterytown neighborhood fell under the elongated shadow of progress. Several single family homes were obliterated to make room for a parking deck for the rising tide of apartment buildings. Such development is common in college towns. The market for rental property is quite lucrative. The buildings that come down always seem to have more character and style than the buildings that go up.

It’s important that we keep a proper perspective. The crews doing this work aren’t evil. They’re just doing an honest day’s work. In this economy, who can blame them? The machines aren’t evil. They’re simply tools that can be used to build just as they can be used to mangle. Even the developers can’t be labeled as anathema as they are just following the market pressure they have been taught to follow.

The truth is preserving historic buildings can be quite profitable as the above examples prove. Historic buildings can offer sturdier, more durable construction than many lightweight construction options. Older architecture offers features and details that don't fit modern budgets. We also maintain a diversity of styles and techniques by preserving existing buildings.

When it comes to a neighborhood like Potterytown in Athens, preservation could have maintained single-family residential units with actual yards, mature trees, small scale landscaping, privacy, and a multitude of other benefits that are sacrificed in the communal living of an apartment building. Good fences make good neighbors. The ceiling/floor of an apartment seems to have a different effect..

But neighborhoods also protect the identity of a town like Athens. The Classic City is famous for the university but also for its quirky and eccentric style that gave rise to the music and art that made the town a household name. A tree that owns itself. An abandoned train trestle. Weaver D's. A double-barreled cannon. And until last week, Potterytown. Some of that uniqueness is gone forever. In its place we get some concrete superstructure, some rebar, and of course, dormant Volvos.

​What would be wrong in tearing down an old rundown strip mall or some other eyesore for this purpose?

Preserving historic property isn't propping up dilapidated buildings. It is preserving our story. It is preserving our heritage. It is preserving our very identities. Preservation is the work that will keep our entire existence from becoming just another off ramp off just another highway - generic, nameless, faceless, nondescript. We’ve seen this happening across Metro Atlanta for decades now. Formerly small distinct towns have redeveloped to the point they look just like all their neighbors. Apartment buildings. Gas stations. Bradford pears. Cookie cutter commercial buildings.

It comes down to the words of Sir Roger Scruton: "...good things are easily destroyed but not easily created." It took a century for Potterytown to become what it was. It took a few days to become what it now is. And now, it will never be what it could have been. It’s has been lost to time and “progress.”

What piece of our culture and identity will we lose next?