![]() |
7 Morrill Hall, Fargo ND, 58105-5655, Tel: 701-231-7881, Fax: 701-231-7044 agcomm@ndsuext.nodak.edu |
|
|
|
Plains Folk: A Grand Forks InventoryTom Isern, Professor of History
The city of Grand Forks, N.D., continues its laborious recovery from the flood of 1997, reinventing parts of itself, perhaps eventually fashioning a new whole, for surely the parts fit differently as they are put back together. In some perverse ways there is opportunity in disaster. Water and fire can do a lot to eliminate complacency. Recently I heard Peg O'Leary, cordinator of the Grand Forks Historic Preservation Commission, talk about the losses and the opportunities flowing from 1997. Her tone, as she illustrated the blend of new and restored buildings composing downtown Grand Forks today, was a touching mix of personal anguish and professional detachment. That ambivalent tone touched me in particular, because I have been working in another neighborhood of Grand Forks, which for lack of a better name we have been calling the Near South Side Residential Area. This includes what folks in Grand Forks remember as Lincoln Park, along with adjacent areas to the west and north. I was appointed by the city, through its historic preservation commission, to examine the Near South Side and to report on the state of its cultural resources--that is, what historic properties remained, what have been lost, and what the historic character is today. The idea was to make recommendations how best to preserve the historical resources remaining. So an assistant and I spent a great deal of time walking the residential streets of Grand Forks, studying buildings from the street, photographing changes in them, and asking fool questions of residents. Sometimes it was below zero, and our numb fingers made progress slow. Other times it was Indian summer, and the work was slowed by chatting with residents playing touch football or doing yard work. Eventually, though, we got around to 1103 properties. At a cost of both shoe-leather and paper (lots of paper, because there are forms to be filed), here's what we found. Good news first. We found that there are 537 properties that, in terms of historic significance and integrity, remain substantially intact. The owners of these properties deserve high praise. In the face of trial and loss, they not only kept up their properties but also maintained their historic character. Other buildings in the neighborhood have been substantially changed, or were moved from one lot to another, as the owners sought safety behind new dikes under construction. Some of these buildings, though, retain enough integrity to continue to contribute to the historic character of the neighborhood. Here, however, is the stark finding: in this neighborhood we find that 453 properties have been demolished. Lincoln Park and adjacent areas are gone; they lie east of the dikes now underway. Much of the rest of the neighborhood has a gap-toothed appearance, houses gone here and there. None of this neighborhood will ever be the same, and within it, whole ways of life have been erased. Here am I, counting the cost. In the end I report that there still are wonderful historical properties in this section of Grand Forks; we should take heart and do the best we can with what is left. And yet, I feel like I need to get away from this sad calculus for a while. It was Hannah Arendt who, reflecting on the administration of the Holocaust, coined the phrase, "the banality of evil." Imagine, she wrote, the everyday routine of monstrous evildoing. I don't mean to say I feel I have done anything evil in the survey of Grand Forks; no, I'm certain I'm on the side of the angels here. It's just that sometimes it doesn't seem right to take a disaster like this and reduce it to tables and maps. So now I'd better quit, before I lose my clinical detachment. ### Source: Tom Isern, (701) 799-2941, tom@plainsfolk.com
|