Saving Buffalo Central Terminal, Serving Neighborhood Starts With the Land.

The Central Terminal Restoration Corporation, working with a $5,000,000 state grant and a report by the Urban Land Institute, has been working on urgent building-envelope and utility needs, as well as developing long- and short-term strategies for its property, which includes the iconic office tower, concourse, and a five-story baggage wing, in addition to the elevated plaza that forms the terminus of Paderewski Street and open land between Memorial Drive and  Curtiss Street. It has spent much of the year on public outreach and discussion of community priorities.

The Campaign for Greater Buffalo  has long felt that the entire historic complex, including land and buildings owned by the City of Buffalo, should be consolidated. It is the only way to proceed in a sustainable, comprehensive way. (Executive Director Tim Tielman was a founder of the Restoration Corporation and part-owner of the Terminal) The concept that The Campaign has shared with the Restoration Corp. and state officials is briefly laid out in the two pages attached below.

The concept implies treating the consolidated site as a kind of fairgrounds, with a mix of permanent buildings and designated areas for temporary ones, whether for one weekend, a season, or several years. The backdrop will always be the terminal tower, a branding device and symbol that is without equal, and would confer value and advantage to every enterprise in its domain.


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Saved at the Bell: How an Illegal Demolition was Stopped, a Buffalo Landmark Saved, and What Remains to be Done


St. John's
Quick, decisive action by The Campaign for Greater Buffalo stopped the destruction of St. John's iconic tower. The church, opened in 1927, is a masterpiece by architects Oakley & Schallmo.

Out-of-the-way but not out of mind, the greatest piece of architecture in Black Rock was being taken apart. But fate was about to intervene. Shortly after 7:00pm on Tuesday October 6, Campaign for Greater Buffalo Executive Director Tim Tielman was driving by the former St. John the Baptist R.C. Church on Hertel Avenue and East Street in Black Rock, and noticed a rental lift on the lawn next to the church. Tielman stopped to investigate and discovered that the church's emblematic Lombard Romanesque tower, or campanile, along the East Street side of the building, was being demolished. No one knew about it because there were no permits and no permission to do any work, let alone demolition. Click the link for the story as published in Greater Buffalo #29.0.
 Download Greater Buffalo St. John's hi-res 

Signs on the property proclaimed tenancy by North Gate, a Clarence-based evangelical group; the owners are RiverRock Church LLC and Buffalo Myanmar Indigenous Christian Fellowship. The last Catholic service was held in the church in 2005.

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Since then, a succession of entities owned it. The three-tiered campanile (pronounced camp-a-knee-lay), was offset from the nave of church, toward the rear. The campanile of St. John’s played a particularly prominent role in its architectural composition, almost acting as a second front. The east wall of the nave is held in place by a range of massive buttresses, of which the tower can be said to be the largest and last, as it visually supports the entire church by means of lateral bridging which is almost as stout as the tower itself. When Tielman got there, the uppermost lantern and cross of the iconic campanile were gone, and the lower octagon was partially gone. Wood and wire shored the tower, allowing for what appeared to be demolition by hand. A pile of bricks lay at the base of the tower, and a large dumpster contained what appeared to be the rest of the bricks of the demolished tower. A smaller dump-trailer contained interior demolition debris.

Tielman called Buffalo Commissioner of Inspections and Permits James Comerford immediately, looking for a stop-work order. Comerford confirmed that no permits—demolition- or asbestos-related— had been requested or issued, and said he would dispatch an inspector that night.

Demo Work Halted

The next morning, shortly after 7:00AM, Tielman was on-site. Seeing a group of contract workers from Cambar Contracting assembling, Tielman again called Comerford, who dispatched inspector Tracy Krug. Tielman informed the workers that no permit had been issued for the work, no review by the Preservation Board had occurred, and that they would be advised to stop work. The foreman refused, pending arrival of City officials and Buffalo Police, but no further demo occurred in the time it took the City inspector to arrive and shut the job down. Comerford confirmed that a written stop-work order would be delivered that afternoon.

The campanile of St. John's on the morning of October 7.

 Shortly before the inspector's arrival, a Cambar supervisor arrived on-site and brandished a letter to Tielman from Siracuse Engineers, which allegedly summarized hazardous conditions in the tower. Tielman also called Preservation Board chair Gwen Howard and shortly met her at the site. She was emphatic with representatives of NorthGate, and evangelical organization that was overseeing the work, that plans must be submitted to the Preservation Board before any work could be approved.


Who made the decision to demolish?

The decision to demolish without permission, rather than mitigate the hazard in some other fashion pending resolution through proper channels, was apparently made North Gate, an evangelical organization that is partnering with the owners of record, RiverRock Church. RiverRock Church split the property in two pieces, selling the parish house to an entity known as 60 Hertel LLC. North Gate is expanding into the city with this project. A North Gate staffer on-site revealed, had established a deadline of November 1 for the work. That was driving the pace of the work. When Tielman offered that arbitrary deadlines shouldn't drive improprieties, he was told by the North Gate representative that "It is God's deadline." The North Gate representative claimed ignorance of the need for permits. Evidently, in Clarence people are allowed to undertake potential asbestos removal and disposal, demolition of historic structures, and excavation work related to the public water supply without permits. On top of all this, major masonry repointing has occurred without review. New copper flashing is in evidence as well, but again, without review. A pair of unique glazed terra cotta urns is missing from were the flashing was installed, and has been reportedly destroyed. The Campaign’s goals at Hertel and East were be to immediately stop further deterioration and see that plans for the full restoration of the tower were undertaken. These were accomplished. This will take more money and time than it should have.

Law is clear


The St. John campanile serves as a second front on East Street, balancing the nave and apse

The Preservation Board at its October 15 meeting followed the legal directives of New York State and insisted that the tower be rebuilt. North Gate apologized for its neglect in asking for permits and undertaking demolition and modification. It agreed to come back with plans and descriptions of stabilization and reconstruction of the tower. Legal enforcement of proper civic conduct is the burden of the Preservation Board and the Department of Inspections and Permit Services. On the preservation side, the rules for designated historic structures are clear. New York State law mandates that localities adhere to the standards. They are issued by the Secretary of the Interior and are embodied in the New York State standards and the City of Buffalo standards for local landmarks. The very first piece of guidance in the entire corpus of preservation law is "identifying, retaining, and preserving character-defining features." The tower is obviously character-defining. The upper part of the tower and decorative terra cotta urns formerly capping the portal are dismantled, but the historic materials are still on site. There they must remain until they can be used to reassemble the tower.

A Mea Culpa and Promise to Rebuild

North Gate returned to the Preservation Board on October 30 with plans in hand. The Board approved an initial phase of work, including temporarily removing the top of the tower for stabilization and the construction of a platform on which the rebuilt upper tiers will rest. All materials from the campanile are to be sympathetically dismantled, documented, and stored on the site. In addition, periodic progress reports must be submitted no less than quarterly. The vote to approve was 8-0, contingent on the tower being fully restored. There was one recusal. Anthony James, an architect and Preservation Buffalo Niagara’s representative on the Board, was forced to recuse himself when it was revealed through his Facebook comments that had been asked “to look at” North Gate’s options last summer, had informed Preservation Buffalo Niagara at the time, knew of the owner’s Donation banner2 1decision to demolish, and was aware of ongoing work. It became known, in addition, that James was a member of North Gate, a fact which he did not divulge to the Preservation Board. James did not inform the Preservation Board of the threat to a landmarked structure, and insisted that St. John’s was not an official landmark. In fact, St. John’s was among the earliest designations, in the first year of its eligibility. The process of rebuilding the tower will take time, patience, diligence and more money than it should have. That is time and money well spent to preserve the first building in Black Rock to be awarded city landmark designation. Stopping the destruction was only the first step.

Architects Albert Schallmo and Chester Oakley

The former St John the Baptist Church is one of four masterpieces designed by the firm of Oakley and Schallmo in the 1920's. St. John’s, in a group with Blessed Trinity, St. Luke, and St. Casimir. They display the highest level of craftsmanship in brick architecture in the city. Recent research suggests Albert Schallmo, a German Catholic raised in the Fruit Belt, did the drawings. A talented draftsman and architect, Schallmo is credited with designing the recently demolished Franks House at 184 West Utica Street in Buffalo. That demolition, by companies affiliated with developer Nick Sinatra, was opposed by block clubs and the Preservation Board, which had voted to landmark the house based on the association with Schallmo and the evident craftsmanship. The Franks House was completed in 1907. It is unclear whether Schallmo was moonlighting, but in any case, he was back at the drafting board full-time from 1908 through 1918, working successively for Lansing & Beierl, Williams Lansing, and finally, Lansing, Bley & Lyman.

Blessed Trinity, though last of Oakley & Schallmo churches too be completed, was designed first and caused the St. John parish and two others to commission the firm

Lansing & Beierl was one of the top firms in the city in the first decade of the 20th century. In the first three years Schallmo is known to have worked for them (1908-1910), the firm designed over 20 buildings or additions, including 219 Bryant Street for Children’s Hospital and a house for masonry contractor Ballard Crocker at 114 Chapin Parkway, of, naturally, finely detailed brick. Schallmo stayed with Lansing when the latter split with Beierl in 1910. Lansing’s work address is then listed with Bley and Lyman, with some work credited to him alone, and others to Lansing, Bley & Lyman.

In August 1913, the same month parishioner Schallmo was married in Our Lady of Lourdes church, Lansing, Bley & Lyman were designing the Lourdes school. With Lansing, two exceptional houses came off the drafting boards: 68 Penhurst Park and 180 Chapin Parkway, both Arts & Crafts temples of domesticity. In 1913, another draftsman is hired, Chester Oakley. Like Schallmo, he had East Side working class roots, living in the Fruit Belt with his peripatetic parents. Unlike Schallmo, who had five siblings, Oakley was an only child. It seems, from later events, that the two hit it off.

Thriving, Schallmo designed and built his own stuccoed Arts & Crafts cottage in 1915 on the banks of Ellicott Creek in Williamsville, where he grew up. Art glass, terra cotta, and oaken detailing in the Schallmo house are a warm embrace of the Arts & Crafts ethos, and a steppingstone between the Franks house of eight years prior and Blessed Trinity eight years after. By 1916, there was no question the United States was going to join the allies in the Great War. This put a damper on architectural work, and plan filings at Lansing, Bley & Lyman virtually dissappear. In late 1917 the U.S. is at war against Germany, and Schallmo does not appear to be employed in the City of Buffalo.

Sometime in 1918 Schallmo is back at work in Buffalo, as an architect and engineer with Sizer Forge, an essential wartime industry. After the war, back at Lansing, Bley & Lyman, the latter two decide to set up their own firm in 1919. Draftsman Oakley stayed with Lansing, becoming a partner in Lansing & Oakley. A short year later, Lansing dropped dead over dinner at home.

Oakley reached out to Schallmo, busy designing houses in Williamsville for his neighbors and fellow parishioners at SS Peter and Paul R.C. Church (for which he designed a school). Schallmo agreed to a partnership. Oakley & Schallmo set up shop in 1921. The first structure to which Schallmo’s name is attached from this office is the craft-forward rectory of Annunciation Church, completed in 1922. Schallmo was the motive force in the firm, with his connections in the German Catholic East Side paying dividends almost immediately.

Schallmo’s expressive talent in brick architecture, begun at 184 West Utica, honed at the elbows of Williams Lansing and Max Beierl, and reaching maturity at the Annunciation rectory, would come to fullest flower in four ecclesiastical masterpieces over five years.

When Schallmo moved out of the family house in the Fruit Belt upon marriage, the rest of the Schallmo clan joined eldest brother William in a classic shophouse at the corner of Victoria Avenue and Holden Street. It was in the largely German neighborhood that grew up around quarries in the northeast section of the city known as the Yammerthal (“Vale of Tears”). The Buffalo Diocese had just established Blessed Trinity parish, and laid the cornerstone of a its combination church-school-social hall in 1907. The Schallmos were there at the start. When John Schallmo died in 1915, his funeral service was presided over by the founding priest of Blessed Trinity, John Pfluger. In 1916, Pfluger was assigned to another German parish, and Albert Fritton, a Canisius College graduate, took over. Like Pfluger, Fritton was a graduate of the famous Canisianum Jesuitical institute in Innsbruck, Austria. While there, Fritton traveled to neighboring Italy, where he was deeply impressed by the religious architecture of Lombardy.

At the fast-growing Blessed Trinity, Fritton had the opportunity to plan for a new, permanent church, agreed upon by the parish in 1922. When thinking of who might design the structure, Albert Schallmo must have crossed Fritton’s mind immediately. In late 1922 Oakley & Schallmo filed plans. The larger-than-life figure of Thomas Plassman, new president of St. Bonaventure College, chose the hundreds of iconographic castings which adorn the exterior. The polymathic Plassman, yet another German native, would have been known to all involved. Schallmo supervised construction, which started in 1923.


St. Casimir in Kaisertown is one of four brick masterpieces by Oakley & Schallmo

One look at Blessed Trinity’s plans, and other parishes rapidly enlisted Oakley & Schallmo: St. John the Baptist (the first of the four completed, in 1927), St. Casimir, and St. Luke. Each was in an outlying working-class neighborhood. One imagines the two young architects seizing the chance to bequeath people like themselves architectural objects of great beauty generally reserved for downtown. In addition, President Plassman of St. Bonaventure followed up with commissions for a dormitory and oratory at his growing college, with the promise for more work.


The future looked bright, but disaster struck. In January 1928, after St. John’s had opened the previous summer, ground been broken for St. Luke in the fall, and as finishing touches were being applied to Blessed Trinity and St. Casimir, Schallmo died suddenly. He was 43. No cause of death was made public. With the talented Joseph Fronczyk also having just left for his own practice, the firm withered under the reclusive Oakley. The practice lived largely off relationships established by the socially active and hands-on Schallmo.

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Law is Clear: St. John's Tower Must Rise Again

Drawing by Lawrence McIntyre from the book "Designated Landmarks of the Niagara Frontier," shows significance of recently destroyed tower of St. John the Baptist Church to overall composition of building
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Condition of tower, with temporary shoring, after an illegal attempt by owner to remove it was stopped by The Campaign for Greater Buffalo. Owner intent was to leave only bottom tier of tower.


2007 photo shows glazed terra cotta ornament on stone or cast stone plinths on either side of entrance have been removed, and the plinths capped with copper.

It remains unclear who funded or directed the illegal destruction of the character-defining tower of the former St. John the Baptist Church, a brick-and-terra-cotta masterpiece by architects Oakley and Schallmo. Completed in 1927,  it has long been a designated City of Buffalo historic landmark. Its dismantlement became public knowledge when Campaign for Greater Buffalo Executive Director Tim Tielman drove by the site on Tuesday night.  It is clear, however, that the Preservation Board must follow legal directives from New York State and insist that the tower be rebuilt (it next meets on Thursday, October 15), and Mayor Byron Brown must back up the Preservation Board's resolve through enforcement actions of the Department of Permit and Inspection Services. North Gate, an evangelical organization that has now badged the property with its banners, must take moral ownership of its lapse and fund the reconstruction. Legal enforcement of proper civic conduct is the burden of the Preservation Board and the Department of Inspections and Permit Services.

The money to fix the tower must be prioritized. A lot of money is being spent around the complex by North Gate. The religious organizations involved—North Gate is partnering with RiverRock Church and another organization— will claim they didn't have the money to preserve the tower, so they certainly would not have the money to rebuild it. But a religious organization's financial books are, uniquely, closed to all. So the public is left to trust organizations whose supervisor on the site claimed ignorance of the need to get asbestos surveys and permits, demolition permits, and Preservation Board review.

On the preservation side, the rules for preservation of historic structures are clear, and New York State law mandates that localities adhere to the standards.  They are issued by the Secretary of the Interior and are embodied in the New York State  standards and the the City of Buffalo standards for local landmarks. The very first piece of guidance in the entire corpus of preservation law is  "identifying, retaining, and preserving  character-defining features." The tower is obviously character-defining. The upper part of the tower (and decorative terra cotta ornaments formerly on the front wall of the church) is dismantled, but the historic materials are still on site. There they must remain until they can be used to reassemble the tower. Preservation Board Chair Gwen Howard arrived on site Wednesday morning and was emphatic with representatives of NorthGate, and evangelical organization that was overseeing the work, that plans must be submitted to the Preservation Board before any work could be approved.

On the City side, Commissioner James Comerford, upon being informed of the situation Tuesday night, immediately confirmed that no permits—demolition- or asbestos-related— had been requested or issued, and dispatched an inspector that night. On Wednesday morning shortly after 7:00AM, when notified by Tim Tielman of The Campaign for Greater Buffalo that workmen were on site and preparing to continue the dismantlement, again dispatched an inspector who stopped work upon arrival, and was to issue a written stop work order that day. No work may proceed without Preservation Board review and approval. The Board next meets (remotely) on Thursday October 15.

The process of rebuilding the tower will take time, patience, diligence and more money than it should have. That is time and money well spent to preserve the first building in Black Rock to be awarded city landmark designation. Stopping the destruction was only the first step.

[This article has been updated to correct ownership information]

Demo work halted at St. John's in Black Rock; other violations come to light.

The tower of the former St. John the Baptist on the morning of Oct. 7, after demolition work had been stopped. Emergency water-shedding measures have been approved by the City. The ornamental ventilator of the historic school is visible through the tower's arch.

The demolition work at the former St. John the Baptist Church in Black Rock has been halted, thanks to the timely intervention of The Campaign for Greater Buffalo. Buffalo Commissioner of Permits and Inspection Services James Comerford dispatched inspector Tracy Krug to the site at 62 Hertel Avenue shortly after 7:00 AM upon receiving a call from Tim Tielman of  The Campaign for Greater Buffalo, who was on-site.  Tielman approached a group of contract workers from Cambar Contracting and informed them that no permit had been issued for the work on the landmark, no review by the Preservation Board had occurred, and that they would be advised to stop work. The foreman refused, pending arrival of City officials and Buffalo Police, but no further demo occurred in the time it took the City inspector to arrive and shut the job down. Comerford confirmed that a written stop-work order will be delivered this afternoon.

A trailer filled with interior demolition debris, some of it friable, and none of it tested for asbestos, sits behind the former St. John the Baptist Church

Shortly before the inspector's arrival, a Cambar supervisor arrived on-site and brandished a letter to Tielman from Siracuse Engineers, which allegedly summarized hazardous conditions in the tower. The decision to demolish without permission, rather than mitigate the hazard in some other fashion pending resolution through proper channels, was apparently made North Gate, an evangelical organization that is is partnering with the owners of record, RiverRock Church. RiverRock Church split the property in two pieces, selling the parish house to 60 Hertel LLC to the Mosaic 659 Foundation. Mark Herskind, a trustee of Mosaic 659, which is registered at the same  address as his residence, is a significant supporter of local evangelical Christian enterprises, including Jericho Road Community Center, which River Road also claims as a "partner." 

North Gate, a Clarence-based evangelical group that is expanding into the city with this project. North Gate is funding a large project there with a deadline of November 1st, an organization staffer on-site revealed. That is driving the pace of the work. When Tielman offered that arbitrary deadlines shouldn't drive improprieties, he was told by the North Gate representative that "It is God's deadline."


NorthGate logo
North Gate, a Clarence-based evangelical group, is funding the unpermitted demolition and plumbing work as part of its expansion into Buffalo. It is advertising a Nov. 1 grand opening 

The North Gate representative feigned ignorance of the need for permits. Evidently, in Clarence people are allowed to undertake potential asbestos removal and disposal, demolition of historic structures, and excavation work related to the public water supply without permits.

On top of all this, major masonry repointing has occurred without review. It is unknown if the mortar mix used matches the original specifications of architects Oakley & Schallmo, who are perhaps the greatest masters of brick architecture the city has produced. New copper flashing is in evidence as well, but again, without review, the public has no knowledge of whether this or any other work was properly done.

The goal at Hertel and East must be to immediately stop further deterioration and issue plans for the full restoration of the tower. This will now take more money and time than it would have, but North Gate must commit to it, and commit to following the laws of the City of Buffalo henceforth.

[This post has been updated to correct ownership information.]

Campaign Moves to Stop Illegal Demo at St. John the Baptist in Black Rock

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The East Street elevation of St. John the Baptist shows the tower as it existed last month

An illegal demolition at the former St. John the Baptist church at 60 Hertel Avenue in Buffalo's Black Rock neighborhood has been uncovered. The church is one of four masterpieces designed by the firm of Oakley and Schallmo in the 1920's. St. John, in a group with Blessed Trinity, St. Luke, and St. Casimir, displays the highest level of craftsmanship in brick architecture  in the city. Shortly after 7:00pm on Tuesday October 6, Campaign for Greater Buffalo Executive Director Tim Tielman was driving by on Hertel Avenue and noticed a rental lift on the lawn next to the church. Not recalling any action before the city's Preservation Board, Tielman stopped to investigate and discovered that the church's emblematic Italian Renaissance tower, along the East Street side of the building, was being demolished.

St. John the Baptist was opened in 1927, a masterpiece of brick by Oakley and Schallmo

The tower was designed as a three-stepped structure terminating in an arcaded octagonal lantern with a tiled roof. Atop all was a cross. Below, the tower is supported by a square shaft with a monumental battered base. Architecturally, the tower forms a necessary counter balance to the extravagantly ornamented elevation, which features a heroic rose window over a Spanish Baroque portal. The east wall of the nave is held in place by a range of massive buttresses, of which the tower can be said to be the largest, as it supports the entire church by means of lateral bridging which is almost as stout as the tower itself.

It is this tower which is in a state of demolition. The uppermost lantern and cross are gone, and the lower octagon is partially gone. Wood and wire bracing wraps the tower, allowing for what appears to be demolition by hand. A pile of bricks lies at the base of the tower, and a large dumpster contains what appears to be the rest of the bricks of the demolished tower. A smaller dump-trailer contains interior demolition debris.

The last Catholic service was held in the church in 2005. Since then, a succession of entities owned it. Records show the the current owners are River Rock Church LLC and the Buffalo Myanmar Indigenous Christian Fellowship.

Tielman called Buffalo Commissioner of Inspections and Permits Jim Comerford immediately, looking for a stop-work order. Comerford reported that no permits had been issued for the work, and that he would send an inspector and the police in the morning. The Campaign will be there as well, bright and early.

The partially demolished tower on the night of October 6. The demolition is illegal.
Confirmation of demo, rather than repair: bricks from the tower in a dumpster in back of the church


Cornell, UB teams working on Campaign concept of high-speed "Road Train"  

Road Train cover 2 Road Train head 1The Campaign for Greater Buffalo History, Architecture & Culture is sponsoring a series of design studios this fall and next spring with Cornell University and the University of Buffalo

Two studios, one at Cornell and one at UB, are researching a concept of The Campaign for an intercity public transit system utilizing high-speed articulated vehicles in the median of the Thruway at average speeds above 100mph. The UB studio, led by professor Jeffrey Rehler and consisting of Environmental Design and Architecture students, will evaluate mobility systems and explore the design of the new road bed, stations, and the station areas. 

The Cornell studio, led by professor Sirietta Simoncini and consisting of Masters students in Systems Engineering, as well as City and Regional Planning students, will utilize  a process of "systems design thinking" to investigate how such a sustainable mobility system could be set up, implemented, and operate. 

The studios  are under the auspices of the Department of Urban and Regional Planning at UB and the College of Engineering at Cornell. 

"We are excited to be sponsoring studios that address urgent needs in Buffalo and Upstate cities as a whole," said Tim Tielman, Executive Director of the Campaign for Greater Buffalo.

"The Road Train studios spring from the observation that the railroad era gave us cities with very strong centering effects," continued Tielman. "After 60 years, it is evident that frequent, fast public intercity train service, like that available to downstate residents, is not in the cards for upstate, and it is time to explore whether center cities can be revitalized, and citizens helped, by a transit system that duplicates the success of trains but at much less time and money."

Download Greater Buffalo #28.1 Road Train

DOT scoping doc dismisses all Skyway adaptations; wants new inland highway

Greater Buffalo Skyway factsheet 11x17 1 Download Greater Buffalo Skyway fact sheet 11x17

The New York State Department of Transportation has released a preliminary scoping document that rejects the first-, second-, and third-place prizewinners in Governor Cuomo's "Aim for the Sky" competition to develop new plans for the Skyway corridor. In fact, DOT rejected all 16 of the contest's finalists, and every single concept in its public comment phase that called for retaining any part of the Skyway between Tifft Street, south of the Buffalo River, and Church Street in downtown Buffalo. The Campaign for Greater Buffalo had submitted comments in favor of its "Skywalk" proposal.

Not only did DOT refused to even consider anything that did not reduce the 3-mile length of the Skyway complex to bare earth, thereby washing its hands of any expense of actively remedying the damage its road has inflicted on Buffalo for 60 years or leaving the region with the makings of a spectacular bike-and-walkway, it also made matching or enhancing automobile speed, comfort, and convenience above all else non-negotiable. It therefore was left with two alternatives which it conceived itself outside of the public competition and public comments.

This cannot stand. At a cost of at least $600,000,000, DOT would build at least three new interchanges, a new two-mile elevated roadway through South Buffalo, three bridges, and expansions of four existing Thruway interchanges, including lengthening merge lanes to 2,000 feet—effectively adding another lane to the Thruway between Clinton Street and Elm Street. Time to contact Governor Cuomo. Download the attached pdf for his contact info. SHARE THIS POST FAR AND WIDE, RIGHT NOW.

Watching Indian Falls Locals Jump Off the Cliff

Log Cabin  Indian Falls
On hot holidays, like July 3, 2020, locals head to The Log Cabin and the Falls. You either spectate from a perch on the porch, patio, or the rocky bed of Tonawanda Creek, or you jump right in. This ritualistic frivolity occasionally raises concerns or hackles, and the authorities are called. Like every week. The sheriff’s department, so we are informed by the indefatigable staff of The Batavian, has a special rig and rope team at the ready (for dispatches like this: “Man down in Indian Falls, bleeding from the head, water rescuers called.”). On July 3, before your correspondent arrived at the scene for a beer and fish fry, the ever-watchful Batavian reported the 911: “A caller to dispatch reports 20 people ("two-zero") are jumping in the falls by the Indian Falls Log Cabin Restaurant. The dispatcher relayed this complaint to a Sheriff's deputy who asked: "I thought were weren't responding to those (calls) anymore?"
Log Cabin  Indian Falls
The Log Cabin Restaurant and Bar is a log cabin restaurant and bar in the Genesee County hamlet of Indian Falls. You’ll miss it if you are speeding northward from the Pembroke Thruway exit to the micropolis of Medina (part of the Albion-Medina Microplex). Turn left at the dip in the road. It is on the eastern fringe of Buffaloland. The food is typical bar food, but you are going for the folksy ambience, the wood-smoke curling up from the stone fireplace (in winter), and the view, which in summer includes local youth diving into the base of the falls. The spirit of Seneca sachem Ely Parker, who was born on the spot, pervades the place.

Ely Parker marker

Log Cabin  Indian Falls
The area around Indian Falls was once part of the Tonawanda Indian Reservation. Ely Parker, Seneca sachem, was born in a log cabin overlooking the falls (not the one currently on the site). A marker on the Akron Road explains it all.

Paleo-Urbanism wasn't Buffalo's Problem. It is The Solution.

Main St c 1907 BuffaloThis is another in our occasional series of decoding Buffalo postcards. Today, in honor of the Independence Day holiday, a detail of a colorized postcard c. 1906 showing Buffalo on the eve of, likely, July 4th, and at its peak in the hierarchy of American cities. It is one of our favorite views of the city. The artist Childe Hassam made his living painting similar scenes of New York City 10 years later. Based on a photograph, the image is unusual for its elevated perspective in the middle of a busy street, and rich in information. To wit:

  • Ellicott Square, in the left foreground (Daniel Burnham & Co., 1895-6) has its cornice intact and awnings shading store windows and office windows, and has its original light gray terra cotta. The cornice was removed and tinted windows installed in the 1970s, under the management of Carl Paladino (the developers first project, and the birth of Ellicott Development). Not only did this result in banishing real awnings, it made it difficult for passersby to see what merchants had on offer. So rigid-framed advertising canopies meant to evoke ye olde clothing awnings have been installed, as in Ellicott Developments convenience store on the Washington Street side. Paladino also had the entire building repainted in a mousy brown a couple years ago. Thanks, Carl.
  • There is a line of streetcars headed up Main Street. The number 8 Main Street line itself had departures every two minutes during working hours. Many other lines shared this track, and others crossed it just behind the photographer at Shelton Square. It was the public transit hub of Buffalo, which explains why Ellicott Square was built there.
  • Mobility is free-range; there are sidewalks, but pedestrians are crossing at will and standing at various points, as are horses and carriages, and bicycles—at least six of them in this scene. There are no automobiles, moving or parked, although there were a good number already registered in the city. Soon, to benefit cars, pedestrians would be confined to certain crossing points, and drivers would simply leave their cars willy-nilly at the curb for hours at a time.
  • The second White Building, on the right, has just opened. The first burned down in 1904. This one advertises that it is fireproof (non-combustible supports, floors, and walls), like Ellicott Square and the nearby Guaranty Building. A great fear, as buildings began be built taller, was to be caught on an upper floor when fire broke out below.
  • Next to the White Building to the south is the Weed Block, which housed a hardware emporium on the ground floor and offices and living quarters above, among them those of Grover Cleveland. He conducted most of his life quite efficiently, happily, and consequentially, within three blocks of his Main & Swan base.
  • Across Swan Street, south of the Weed Block is a small brick structure that was home to what was to become M&T Bank.
  • Looming over the corner bank is the Barnes, Bancroft & Hengerer Department Store. Soon, following the migration of retail northward along Main Street, successor Hengerer's would build a giant store north of Lafayette Square. The 1888 Barnes & Bancroft building still stands.
  • The same cannot be said for the stout and varied brick building directly opposite, on the east side of Main, south of Swan. They were, save one, acquired by Marine Midland Bank in the mid-1960's and demolished for a new headquarters. The only survivor was the building housing Bernstone's Cigar Store, which was decapitated that decade and stood in rump form until several years ago. It survived only became Marine, in mid-project, was persuaded by Mayor Frank Sedita's administration to abandon that site, already cleared, for a Buffalo Urban Renewal Agency project that would become the Marine Midland Center. The site remains a parking lot today.
  • This entire section of Main Street (disappearing into the mists of the engraver's airbrush), a vital commercial corridor, was separated from the rest of Main Street to the south by the Marine Midland Center and directly to the north by the construction of a mammoth  automobile processional—the Church Street Extension Mall— which destroyed Shelton Square, as well as four blocks of buildings extending eastward to the Elm-Oak arterial. This is why the modern preservation movement came into being. The Campaign for Greater Buffalo exists to preserve buildings like these, and to restore environments like this.

Campaign for Greater Buffalo Documenting all Green Book Sites in City

Seven Reasons c.1959
"Seven Reasons," (c.1959) a slide image taken by an employee of the Buffalo Department of Planning documenting pre-Urban Renewal conditions. The photograph in all probability is on the Lower East Side. The pencilled title, on the slide's paper frame, is indicative of the notion, at least among some bureaucrats, that, in order to give these children a better life, their homes and neighborhood had to be destroyed. Besides the enormous social toll, that cost Buffalo thousands of historic structures and businesses, including those listed in various editions of the Green Book, which The Campaign for Greater Buffalo is documenting.

The Campaign for Greater Buffalo is in the midst of a project to document all the Green Book sites in the city of Buffalo. The Green Book is the most well-known of various directories published during the Jim Crow era to assist citizen-travelers of color find services and accommodations that welcomed them. Simple intercity travel was a the Green Books between 1947 and 1967, only a dozen have extant buildings. The rest fell victim directly or indirectly, to the federal and state bulldozers of the Urban Renewal era, funding clearance plans drawn up in City Hall. Ostensibly, the work was being done to benefit the very residents whose homes were being destroyed and their lives upended. Now, building on the work of Fredonia State intern Cameron Flynn, The Campaign hopes to mark every site with long-lasting sidewalk stickers or other markers, and to encourage rehabilitation of the extant structures.

Green books
The past months have seen two outstanding books published on the Green Book: Driving While Black, African American Travel and the Road to Civil Rights by Gretchen Sorin, and  Overground Railroad, The Green Book and the Roots of Black Travel in America by Candace Taylor. The two books compliment each other in many ways, and those interested will want to read both, as well as any of several facsimile editions of The Green Book. All have helped inform the Campaign's Green Book Project.

Lorna Peterson, Gail Wells, and Tim Tielman are on the Campaign's Green Code committee, with an assist from Chris Hawley at City Hall, who helps coordinate interns' research in city records. Fredonia State's news service published a nice piece on the Green Book and Cameron Flynn's work earlier this year.

The past months have seen two outstanding books published on the Green Book: Driving While Black, African American Travel and the Road to Civil Rights by Gretchen Sorin, and  Overground Railroad, The Green Book and the Roots of Black Travel in America by Candace Taylor. The two books compliment each other in many ways, and those interested will want to read both, as well as any of several facsimile editions of The Green Book. All have helped inform the Campaign's Green Book Project.

Ellicott_URA aerial_sdiv 2
Thousands of homes and hundreds of businesses were destroyed with city and federal funds—including dozens of Green Book sites—in the Ellicott Urban Renewal District, bounded by Swan Street (left) Michigan Avenue, William Street, and Jefferson Avenue. The consequences reverberate to the present day.

This is written while demonstrations are occurring in Buffalo and across America—and the world— almost daily since a Minneapolis police officer killed George Floyd through asphyxiation by kneeing him in the neck for almost nine minutes while the victim lay unresisting on the ground. One can't help but look back at the state-sponsored destabilization and dislocation of thousands of Ellicott District residents in Buffalo in the 1950's and 1960's and the demonstrations and riots they helped unleash and wonder how much society and the city would have been better served if those thousands of homes and businesses could have been preserved and rehabilitated. We cannot let the remaining Green Book buildings—symbols of struggle, survival, and triumph—be lost.

The Campaign is seeking donations and grants to complete its Green Book project. Donations can be made online on the Campaign's blog homepage sidebar, Greater Buffalo, or by mail at 403 Main Street, Suite 705, Buffalo, NY 14203.

Urban Renewal Redux: A Wall Rises in Buffalo

Buffalo, like so many American cities, still has wounds and physical defects dating from the Urban Renewal era. Massive demolition programs claimed thousands of irreplaceable buildings. Many sites are vacant to this day (camouflaged, if you will, by parking lots). When new structures were built, they were often built with ignorance and disregard for how humans behaved and cities succeed. Thus, in Buffalo, we erected buildings with long stretches of blank walls, which suppressed sidewalk activity and destroyed the contiguity which made walking useful and pleasant. Jane Jacobs, in Death and Life of Great American Cities (1961) pointed this out. That did not stop us from constructing the Central Library (1962) with solid walls on Clinton, Oak, William and Broadway; Main Place Mall (1969) with a 900-foot blank wall on Pearl Street, the convention center (1978) which killed everything around it on Franklin, Genesee, and Mohawk streets with hundreds of feet of implacable brutality, and just about every parking garage you want to mention. That is a lot of dead zone to overcome.

Cities the world over are tearing out expressways, replacing Brutalist compounds with engaging structures opening onto public sidewalks, even "daylighting" lost rivers and canals. Buffalo's first big opportunity to correct the mistakes of 1960s urbanism in Buffalo is the old Marine Midland Center (1972). We are on the verge of blowing it.

The Buffalo Planning Department, the Planning Board, and the Zoning Board of Appeals all approved a massive wall of concrete panels that is 12 feet high on the corner of Seneca and Pearl streets, and over 20 feet high on Washington Street. The wall, and related structures at Main and Seneca streets, are almost finished. And it is a horror to behold. Should we let this mistake last for the next 50 years?


Selling Urban Renewal to Children of All Ages

First page of architect-author-illustrator Yen Liang's 1958 book The Skyscraper. Jane Jacobs saw this as the very picture of urban health, equity, and functionality. Author Yen Liang saw it as a menace to health and property values that had to be destroyed in order to build a new, clean, and ordered city

Trigger warning: this article contains soul-crushing depictions of the American City.

Look at images of street scenes any American City around 1900.

Look at that city today, and you are likely to see a selection of glorious masonry architecture intermixed with glammy office buildings (in larger cities) and gray crusted-over wounds inflicted 60 years ago, during the Urban Renewal era of the late 1950s and 1960s. Swaths of open-air automobile storage, wide, smooth roads with speeding cars, narrowed unkempt sidewalks, scattered blank-walled drugstores and drive-thru fast food joints (here's looking at you, Tonawanda, Newark (NY), and Rome), and plain-old infertile precincts where the bomb craters have been filled in and ill-conceived Brutalist replacement retail and concrete nooses of loop roads render suicide redundant (sorry, Ogdensburg, Amsterdam, and um...)

How could something so bad, that seems to us so pre-destined to failure and infertility have happened? Did our leaders lose their minds? Where was the resistance? Why didn't Jane Jacobs (Death and Life of Great American Cities, 1961) prevail?


The cover of Yen Liang's The Skyscraper was an austere abstraction. The dust jacket was more family friendly.

Some answers can be found in The Skyscraper, a forgotten children's book published in 1958. To come across it 60 years after it made its way through the bookstores, school libraries, and the minds of "children of all ages (Saturday Review)," is to understand what it is to be led, with certitude and conviction, by blinded acolytes of the urban-industrial complex. Consider the case of Yen Liang (1908-2000) architect, author/illustrator. Ivy League education (Penn, Cornell, MIT, and Harvard) . One of the original six Taleisin Fellows of Frank Lloyd Wright. Employed by Harrison and Abramowitz, masters of Corporate Modernism, from 1946 through retirement a quarter-century later. Liang gulped down the Kool-Aid by the galvanized tubload.

Today, even while the novel coronavirus is among us, this image could depict a healthy, vacation-worthy urban area anywhere on the globe. The book's caption describes Amsterdam, Venice, Barcelona, Rome, and countless other places. To Modernists like Wallace Harrison and Yen Liang, this depicted an urban slum ripe for clearance
Contrary to Skyscraper's message, children did have a place to play to a public place, albeit under the watchful eyes of a basement-dwelling victim/perp. Some of America's most desired residential real estate is in rehabilitated neighborhoods like this in Brooklyn today, appreciated by preservationists like Clem Labine, who founded Old House Journal in a Brooklyn brownstone
The Urban-Industrial Complex gets down to business: White men with calculators and t-squares planning the city of tomorrow while a lone woman takes notes.
The simplistic insight of Le Corbusier's Ville Radieuse (1922) and Frank Lloyd Wright's Broadacre City (1934) that stacking human habitations in vertical towers would free up land for open space became blinding, and planners, architects, and civic leaders blinded, to the social and economic consequences.
To make an omelette, you have to break a few eggs: Demolition was sold as necessary precondition of "cleaning up" cities. In truth, it was an epic of squandering human capital and public treasure. The new laws which made all this possible remain today, suppressing the re-appearence of the traditional city.
The vision of towers in parks and plazas, according to architectural historian Vincent Scully, "came to ream out the traditional density of the town and destroy its streets." No humans are visible, nor are the highways, cars, strip malls, and parking lots which the vision also required. Author Yin Liang was soon hard at work on the South Mall in Albany, a project which forced over 9,000 people from their homes and destroyed hundreds of small businesses and thousands of housing units, and replaced them with towers on platforms over a parking connected to interstate highways
The Skyscraper is evidence of the dangers of public intoxication with Corbu’s Ville Radieuse, Wright’s Broadacre City, and Wallace Harrison’s UN and X-City proposal of 1946 (years later served up refried as Albany's South Mall, which author Yen Liang worked on). To achieve the proper setting for the simple sculptural masses of the modern office tower and residential tower, whole sections of cities were torn down. A reporter in 1960's Buffalo writing about the transformation was so overwhelmed by the number of buildings coming down that he could not enumerate them—everywhere he turned downtown, blocks were coming down, were down, or were being condemned. Between them, the Ellicott and Waterfront urban renewal areas alone ground down the homes of almost 10,000 people. In their place, towers and highways and parking lots. It is a legacy which hobbles Buffalo still.

You can Blame Us: Frank Lloyd Wright Houses Now Official Buffalo Landmarks

Heath House
Frank Lloyd Wright's Heath House, viewed from Soldiers' Circle.

The Buffalo Common Council withstood many attempts to landmark Frank Lloyd Wright's Heath House and Davidson House over the last 20 years, but on March 17, 2020, faced with a court order won by The Campaign for Greater Buffalo History, Architecture & Culture, it quietly approved designating both prairie-style houses as City of Buffalo landmarks. They had long been on the National Register of Historic Places—as long as their lack of local recognition was a civic embarrassment.

The Campaign mounted several attempts to get them landmarked, but each was thwarted by the evident political power of one of the owners, a host and donor to political and non-profit fundraisers. In the meantime, the houses suffered from uninformed "improvements," including, at the Davidson, hammering textured asphalt shingles through the original slate roof, and discoloring Wright's iconic white stucco walls, first with a "Harvest Gold" color last seen on 1970's refrigerators and now with a gray-brown tone popular at strip malls and investment properties. The Campaign has noted before that these erosions of character are particularly felt due to the northern orientation of both houses, which requires architectural detailing to overcome shadowing and silhouetting effects against a brighter sky. 

The Campaign's latest effort began early in 2019, when it took action against the Council for yet again attempting to kill the landmark nominations by receiving and filing them. State Supreme Court Judge Paul Wojtaszek found for The Campaign in July, and handed down the decision and order voiding the Council's action to receive and file the applications on October 11. The Buffalo Corporation Council simply sat on the information and did not forward it to the Council. Finally, on March 3, 2020, Campaign Vice President Dan Sack formally requested that the City Clerk place the matter on the next Council meeting agenda, which was on March 17. 

The Council approved both nominations at its March 17th meeting. A brass band was not hired to spread the news. Sack found out about it, amidst the tsunami of Coronavirus news and the discontinuation  of City Hall public meetings, through a follow-up email request.

"I am glad the anti-social distancing from landmark designation on these spectacular Buffalo cultural inheritances is over," said Campaign Executive Director Tim Tielman. "Now we have to get the Brown Administration to see the light: Remember the Franks House!," referencing the Administration's end-run around the Preservation Board and Common Council to demolish a rare Flemish Revival house on West Utica Street in February.

Richard Lippes, a Campaign board member, filed the lawsuit on behalf of The Campaign in January. "It is good to see our lawsuit come to fruition," said Lippes. "It removes a significant impediment to preserving deserving buildings and giving citizens the protections they thought they had all along."




Cultural Vandalism: Brown, Sinatra Destroy Landmark

Franks House Demo Ch 4
On a bitterly cold day, the Ernest Franks House at 184 West Utica Street was demolished at the behest of developers Nick Sinatra and partner William Paladino. Despite being approved by Preservation Board for landmarking, Buffalo Mayor Brown approved the demolition

The Ernest Franks House, a piece of Buffalo's cultural patrimony, was willfully destroyed on Thursday, February 27, 2020, less than 36 hours after the Buffalo Preservation Board voted unanimously to designate it as a local landmark—which would have made demolition much more difficult—and send it to the Buffalo Common Council for final approval. A full description of the house is available on a previous post, and a pdf version is also available.

The spectacle of Mayor Byron Brown and his executive branch submitting to the boorish dictates of developer Nick Sinatra to demolish the building was nakedly visible to anyone who did not shield their eyes. It is an image that will linger in the public memory, just as the similar destruction of the Harbor Inn by Carl Paladino in 2003 lives on to this day. The Department of Permit and Inspection Services issued Paladino a demolition permit on a Friday afternoon, enabling a Saturday morning demo of the beloved First Ward landmark.

Tim  Riviera  Pedersen at Franks House
Campaign for Greater Buffalo Executive Director Tim Tielman, block club president Robert Pedersen, and Niagara District Councilmember David Rivera at a February 22 rally to save the house

Niagara District Councilmember David Rivera, whose district includes West Utica Street, had announced his support of landmarking the Franks House at a rally held by the Campaign for Greater Buffalo on February 22. By Tuesday, February 25, the day of the Preservation Board hearing, Rivera said he had sufficient support from Common Council colleagues to ensure designation and protection of the building. TheCouncil makes final determinations on landmark designations.

That was all apparently too much for Sinatra. He wanted the building down and marched to City Hall that day to announce that he fully expected to receive "his" demolition permit—as if by right. He ended up getting Brown and permits chief James Comerford leading an end run around the legislative branch.

Fear of legal exposure was the line parroted by the mayor and his Commissioner for Permit and Inspection Services James Comerford in issuing a demolition permit for the house. It was a fig leaf so transparent as to be pornographic. The city charter grants the Commissioner up to 60 days to act on a permit application, and that he can approve or reject it. End of case. And what about the lawsuit that the Corporation Council's office knew The Campaign for Greater Buffalo was preparing in case the demo permit would not be revoked?

No, the Administration was quaking before Nick Sinatra—and, by extension, Carl Paladino, whose Ellicott Development is partnering in the controversial townhouse project on West Utica that is the nominal reason for the demolition. 

Endangered Buffalo Buildings Not Protected by Brown Administration

Yet, here was Sinatra throwing his girth around City Hall the day of the Preservation Board hearing a month after registering for a demo permit. Why that day, and not at the 60-day limit? Mr. Comerford or someone in his office must have told Sinatra that the permit was his for the asking after 30 days. The Administration insists, all evidence to the contrary, that it must—by right— issue a permit within 30 days.

Under that interpretation, there is no statutory way a building under threat of demolition can be protected. None. The Brown Administration policy is that review by the Preservation Board is futile. It had just advertised that to the world.

Annette Daniels Taylor
Annette Daniels Taylor, widow of artist Rodney Taylor stands in front of the demolished Ernest Franks House on February 27, 2020, expressed her disappointment in Mayor Brown for approving the demolition. Daniels Taylor and her husband were the last owner-occupants of the house.

The Campaign and neighborhood activists alerted the media on Wednesday morning, when Comerford confirmed that he had issued the demo permit. Campaign executive director Tim Tielman expressed outrage on a live interview on WBEN just before 9:00AM, and also did an interview with WBFO. After many calls and emails from citizens and media to the Mayor, spokesman Mike DeGeorge messaged that the demo would be put on hold until the Council could act. Media, including the Buffalo News, quickly put that up on websites. That spin quickly collapsed.

Campaign for Greater Buffalo Attorney Richard Berger, speaking with an Administration attorney, confirmed before 2:00 in the afternoon that Comerford had not, in fact, withdrawn the permit, and that Brown now endorsed the decision. The Campaign relayed the information to its network, while continuing work on its attempt to get a Temporary Restraining Order.

The flip-flopping was so seat-of-the-pants that Councilmember Riviera says he left City Hall at 3:00pm believing that the demo had been held. He told a 6:00pm Fargo Estate block club meeting that, thanks to his efforts and those of the Campaign and the Atlantic-West Utica Block Club, the Franks House had been saved.

Mayor: "Is that house really that special?"

WKBW-TV caught the Mayor in City Hall and asked about the demo permit. The mayor reiterated that he was fearful of a potential lawsuit by Sinatra and Paladino, and sought to shift blame to citizens and preservationists, asking where they were "10 years ago," when the building was bought by Kaleida Health to expand a parking lot. The Preservation Board rejected the idea then.

Early that evening the mayor showed up at an urban planning event and was questioned by GreenCode Alliance member Linda Gellman about his support of demolition. According to Gellman, Brown responded, ”Is the house really that special?” Gellman enumerated some of the things that made the Franks House special and unique. Mayor Brown: “Well, we have many of those houses.” 

Riviera would learn the only from social media that the demo was on. Neither the Mayor's office nor Permit and Inspections had bothered to notify him, causing him humiliation before constituents. He had to call the Fargo Estate Block Club and inform them was telling them what he thought was the truth.

The Department of Permit and Inspection Services went above and beyond to service developers.An employee of the Permits department certified that the site would be rodent free 4 days before the required 6-day waiting period after baiting because the rats and mice would scurry over to another vacated house owned by the developer, rather than the two occupied houses one property over. There is no evidence that the proper paperwork was even on file for the issuance of a demolition permit.

Planning Board Strips Protection from Franks House

Ignominy is reserved not only for Sinatra, the mayor, and his commissioner, but for the Buffalo Planning Board. Its brain lock or willful ignorance stripped the Franks House of its only protection against demolition. The charter prohibits demolition of any property that is listed on the National Register of Historic Places, by itself or as a contributing element in a National Register Historic District. The Franks House is, or was, within the Elmwood East National Historic District.

The Planning Board met on February 10 and refused to consider the gusher of information that was being uncovered about the historic and architectural significance of the Franks House, and the pursuit of a landmark designation by the Preservation Board. It was encouraged not to pay attention to that by Planning Director Nadine Marrero, who was literally sitting at the right hand of the Planning Board chairman at the board meeting.

The motion to approve the Sinatra-Paladino site plan and thereby strip the Franks House of its only official protection, was made by longtime Planning Board member Martha Lamparelli, who was serving at that moment with friends Nick Sinatra and Ellicott Development CEO William Paladino, Carl's son, on the host committee for Chris Jacobs's congressional campaign kick-off party. The motion was seconded by Cynthia Schwartz. The vote was unanimous. 

UP NEXT: How the Common Council can regain control over landmarking and demolitions.

Rally to Save Threatened Franks House 2-22-20

Save Franks House 1

The Campaign for Greater Buffalo is holding a rally to save the threatened Ernest Franks House at 284 West Utica St., Buffalo on Saturday, February 22 at 9:00am. We'll have information on the house, explain the demolition request for a too-big Sinatra-Paladino townhouse development, and what citizens can do.

You can download the flyer and our newsletter on the Franks House: Download Save Franks House

Download Greater Buffalo #28.1.02131515


Sinatra & Paladino Seek Demo on Rare Architectural Gem


The Ernest Franks House at 184 West Utica Street is a rare Flemish Revival style house, and perhaps the first house designed by noted architect Albert Schallmo

The Campaign for Greater Buffalo has filed a City of Buffalo landmark application to protect a rare Flemish Revival style house at 184 West Utica Street in the Elmwood West National Historic District. Sinatra Development, which owns the house and an adjoining parking lot, has applied for a demolition permit for an 18-unit townhouse development that it is partnering on with Carl Paladino's Ellicott Development.

Neighbors and concerned citizens opposed to the demolition showed up in force at a January 23 Preservation Board hearing on the demo request. Tim Tielman, executive director of the Campaign, noted the stylistic rarity of the house, and its architectural quality and high level of craftsmanship. Qualitatively, it stuck out. Speaker after speaker agreed, as did the Preservation Board itself, which voted to deny a demo permit. In the Buffalo context, that means the building is still on Death Row.

That is why The Campaign sprinted to deliver a landmark application before the Preservation Board's next meeting. In the process, Tielman was pleasantly stunned to discover that the urban oddment was designed by Albert Schallmo, who later, with Oakley & Schallmo, would design the four most exquisite brick buildings ever erected in Buffalo.

At its February 6 meeting, the Preservation Board accepted the application as complete and scheduled a public hearing for February 25 at 4:00pm in room 901 City Hall.

Greater Buffalo #28.1.02131515

Download Greater Buffalo #28.1.02131515 The Campaign's newsletter, a full architectural description, photos, and the story of the architect, the bricklayer, the saddler, and the artist whose lives intersected at 184 West Utica.

The Preservation Board has been ineffectual in preserving buildings in the Elmwood East and West National Historic Districts. As was pointed out in a demo hearing directly prior to that of 184 West Utica, since the creation of the historic districts, 23 buildings have been brought before the board for demolition, and 23 buildings have been demolished.

The Brown Administration routinely ignores the Preservation Board and hands out demo permits on a misguided as-of-right policy for all buildings not that are not designated City of Buffalo landmarks. It is open season on National Register properties and everyone knows it.

National and state-level designation is meaningless in terms of protecting a building from demolition. The Green Code offers better conditional protection for such properties. That is why the Campaign decided to immediately undertake an effort to designate the small brick house as a City of Buffalo landmark.

To help support The Campaign for Greater Buffalo's preservation work, please donate today by clicking on the donation buttons in the sidebar.


Collier's Dec 9  1905 med
December 9, 1905 edition of popular national weekly Collier’s indicates how deeply Flemish Revival had penetrated the American consciousness in years preceeding tricenteniary observances of Hudson’s voyage and establishment of New Netherland in 1609.

The True Story of How the Squier Mansion was Saved

The Squier Mansion, 2003, during restoration.


A lot of things and people go into a successful campaign to save a building. This is Tim Tielman's eyewitness account, based on notes, legal documents, and media stories, of the saving of one landmark, Buffalo's Squier Mansion. It had been a concern of preservationists for over a decade, and came to a head in one day, December 21, 2001. Between 10:00am and 4:50 pm, building on the work and hard-earned reputation of an organization of dedicated citizens with many other victories to its credit, and with the unhesitating aid of others, an attempt to demolish a building and preservation law was thwarted. You can download a printable version of the story here: Download Greater Buffalo #27 Squier

It is one of the most notorious and brazen demolition attempts in Buffalo history. The cast: A leading businessman that wanted a parking lot, an Administration that demolished 2,600 buildings, a “secret’ auction, a Housing Court Judge that issued a demolition order, an outlaw demolition contractor that made millions off city contracts. Now—on the Friday before Christmas, 2001— I was getting a call that the Squier Mansion, a city landmark, was being demolished. It had to be stopped.  

On the morning of Friday December 21, 2001, Mary Ruth Haberman, a volunteer at the Little Portion Friary at 1305 Main Street, called me at my office at The Preservation Coalition of Erie County. Mary and her husband, Art, were longtime members, and were charter members of The Campaign for Greater Buffalo in 2002. There was demolition equipment tearing into the Squire Mansion and two other buildings next door. The buildings were part of the St. Vincent’s Female Orphan Asylum, which we had landmarked and was on our watch list. We had been pressuring the City of Buffalo to compel the owner to do repairs to one of the buildings. Finally, the owner had been brought into housing court, after eight years of not fixing a hole in the roof caused by a suspicious fire.

We’d seen this before, but we were not supposed to see it again. Not after a Inspections 

Department employee was caught red-handed engineering the “emergency demolition” of another city landmark, the original Pierce Arrow Showroom,  four years before, to make way for a housing development proposed by the his future employer. 

Now we had the added sweetener of a “Holiday Special,” a demolition or fire designed to take place when no one is watching. It was happening almost 15 years to the day of a five-alarm, never-investigated fire that destroyed St. Mary’s church on Broadway and Pine, on the last Friday before Christmas in 1986. (I happened to call in that fire from a pay phone on Broadway).

Squier 12-19-01
The 1886 Orphanage and connecting building, December 19, 2001, the day Cash Cunningham took title to the landmark complex at 1313 Main St.

Thirteen-thirteen Main includes most of the designated landmark site known as the St. Vincent’s Female Orphan Asylum. The original house was built by banker Alanson Robinson around 1860 but inhabited by him for only a short time before he sold it to George Squire, who lived in it for over 20 years. It is one of the largest Italianate houses in Buffalo, and a particularly well detailed one. The house and its expansive grounds were bought by the Sisters of Charity in 1885 to construct the orphanage. 

The Sisters added a cruciform 3-story orphanage in 1886, connecting it to the Squier House with a two-story wing with a dormered roof. An elegant free-standing building was added in 1898, facing Ellicott Street, designed by Green & Wicks, at the height of their powers. An Art Deco gym/auditorium (with a cooking school and dining room in the basement) by George Dietel, built in 1935 to replace an earlier gym destroyed by fire.

With the Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal, orphanages became a thing of the past. The property remained in the hands of the Diocese of Buffalo for some time after WWII, serving as Bishop O’Hearn High School and Erie Community College City Campus. 

Squier connector dec 21
Damage inflicted by "Wild Bill" Denton of Topor Contracting at the behest of Cash Cunningham, with the assent of City Hall

It was sold in 1983 to a Buffalo cardiologist, Kenneth Gayles, who had dreams of turning it into a medical complex. Gayles’s desires exceeded his grasp, and nothing came of his plans. The Preservation Coalition of Erie County, under the Susan McCartney and Scott Field, and researcher Hilary Sternberg, led a campaign to have the complex designated a city landmark in 1989, when it had been vacant for six years.

In 1993, an arson fire was set in the top floor of the 1886 building. By 2001, the roof had been open for eight years. Moisture damage was significant. The Coalition kept the complex in the public eye, urging inspections, holding meetings, featuring it in a series of holiday cards. 

Finally, after almost two decades of neglect and public pressure, Gayles was written up for Housing Court by the Department of Inspections. He appeared in Housing Court over and these violations on April 2, September 26, and —in a non-jury trial before Judge Diane Devlin—October 24. (Despite being a city landmark, the Preservation Board was not informed of the prosecution of the violations.


A whiff of fish

On Tuesday, December 11, Gayles pleaded guilty to the violations, with sentencing to occur in January. Word reached me that Gayles would put the property up for auction as a result, and that he was going to try to get a demolition permit. Cunningham, a neighboring property owner, I was told, had been in court expressing interest in the property for use as a parking lot.

Whether the grapevine had all the details right was immaterial: the substance was enough to put the building on the front burner. We thought a deal had been arranged for Gayles to demolish the site, and sell it to Cunningham. A similar deal was made just that summer by the Benderson Development Corporation, one block south on Main St., where the owner of the MidCity Building would demolish it and turn the site over to Benderson for a huge Delta Sonic gas station-car wash-drive-through fast food complex. (That plan was carried out, despite prolonged citizen efforts to thwart it, largely because MidCity was not a designated landmark and its fate rested ultimately with the Planning Board, which rolled over for Benderson like a trained dog)

Things smelled fishy.

On Wednesday, December 19 I photographed the site, looking for any violations which I thought could be spun into a demolition request. What I found was what had existed there for some time: an imposing Italianate mansion on its purpose-made hill, an orphanage with a hole in its roof, and a connecting passage with moisture problems on its west wall. A hardship requiring demolition? Nothing that wasn’t self-imposed by pocketing of insurance proceeds, and deferred maintenance and repair.

I also noticed an inconspicuous sign announcing a Friday, December 7 auction. The auction I had heard about had already been held, before Gayles’s guilty plea in court. I called the number on the sign. Bronstein Auctioneers would only confirm that the property had sold. Very shortly, it became known that Cash Cunningham, in court the day of Gayles’s  plea, was already the winning bidder on the 5-building complex, for $1000.

Lastly, a large piece of asbestos-removal equipment that looked like a shipping container was sitting on Riley Street, under the windows of Cash Cunningham’s offices in the Packard Building. That was not a good sign; removing asbestos from a building can be done in such a way as to inflict maximum damage.

Tim 2002
The author in 2002, when he was Executive Director of The Preservation Coalition of Erie County.

Nonetheless, faith in institutions springs eternal. As a designated landmark, the Preservation Board would have to consider any demolition request. We would have ample time for public comment and preparation of options. No imminent danger to the building or the public was apparent. 

The city, the judge, the former owner, and the new owner had, it soon seemed evident, had agreed on a different plan: declare an emergency — an imminent threat to the public — to bypass public review for the sake of public safety. 

December 21: Demolition of a landmark begins, without public hearing or permit

On the morning of Friday, December 21, 2001, I got a call from Coalition member Mary Ruth Haberman that the Squier house was being demolished. Was it perhaps just asbestos removal? No, there was an excavator clawing at the building. 

I called the City of Buffalo Department of Inspections and Permits. Was there an emergency demolition order? No demolition permit had been issued, I was told, but an asbestos removal permit had. 

I had to run over to the site. Literally. I had been dropped off at work that morning by my wife. In the office with me was intern Jason Haremza, a University of Toronto graduate student who went on to become a planner in the Finger Lakes and Rochester. I had Jason hold down the fort while I went to the site on foot from our offices at Lafayette and Elmwood.

When I got there I saw a demolition contractor’s excavator sitting next to what, two days before, had been the solid walls of three buildings. Each building, the Squier Mansion, the 1886 orphanage, and the “connector” between them, had several layers of brick ripped off and windows punched in. The Squier house had a gaping hole clear through to the interior, where splintered joists were visible. An illegal demolition was afoot. To render any last-minute attempt to intervene futile, damage had been inflicted to key parts of the complex.

I called Inspections again. Now I was told an “emergency” demolition order had been issued by Judge Devlin the afternoon before, December 20. I knew that could not be accurate. 

First, housing court judges don’t order emergency demolitions; public officials, empowered to make such judgements of imminent public danger, do. Second, city housing court judges do not have the power to issue demolition orders on designated landmarks. (Also, as we came to find out, the order was dated the 19th, the very date, that Cash Cunningham received title to the property.) 

Mary Ruth Haberman
Mary Ruth Haberman, a Preservation Coalition and Campaign for Greater Buffalo member, called Tim Tielman about demolition activity at the Squier house the Friday before Christmas in 2001

Even an emergency demolition order requires an asbestos removal permit—a federal certification that all asbestos had been removed— and a general demolition permit. Or, the entire structure is to be hazardous material, is demolished with safeguards against airborne asbestos, and is disposed of much more expensively. 

Again, according to the city, no demolition permit was in hand, and wouldn’t be, until an asbestos certification was issued. 

What was the emergency? Imminent danger to the public safety was absent. The buildings that 

seemed to be the target the pre-emptive demolition safely removed from the public right-of-way. Were a building to crumble, no person on the Main Street or Riley Street sidewalks could possibly be harmed. 

Even had a structural emergency existed, the goal of the law is to lessen or eliminate a hazard to the public, which can be done without resorting to demolition, often by simply erecting a fence. 

I had caused previous emergency demolition orders for two designated landmarks, the former Asbury-Delaware United Methodist Church at Delaware Avenue and Tupper Street and the Pierce Arrow Showroom and Schmidt’s buildings in the 700 block of Main Street, to be blocked in court for just that reason. In both cases, any risk to the public was eliminated by installing barriers and fencing. 


The scramble to save the mansion

I set off back to the office—there would be a lot of work to do, quickly. I called Mayor Masiello’s office, leaving a message. I got a call back before I arrived from Deputy Mayor Vincent Lovallo. “You have until 2:00 o’clock.” 

I appreciated the sporting chance to stop illegal activity.

Still walking, I immediately punched in the number of attorney Robert Kresse, Coalition member, Wendt Foundation trustee, and longtime preservation supporter. We needed a lawyer to seek a Temporary Restraining Order (TRO) to prevent further demolition until things could be sorted out. 

This was not an easy task, coming on the Friday before Christmas. And, financial circumstances being what they are for an activist organization, the legal work had to be free—pro bono. Bob thought a moment and hit on Brian Melber of Ricotta and Personious. He would call him. 

In short order, I got a call from Melber. He could represent us, but I had to get together everything for the TRO (legal boilerplate, architectural, historical, and geographical context etc.) and get it to him.

Back at the office, I determined we needed to have news conference right in front of the Squire House, and exactly at the deadline the Masiello adminstration had set. I called the news desks at three tv stations, three radio stations, and the city desk at Buffalo News, outlining the threat and our legal remedy. I had no idea whether that legal remedy to stop demolition would be in place at the deadline indicated by Vinnie Lovallo, but I wanted witnesses. 

Jason and I then turned to documenting our case for a TRO and emailing and faxing everything to Brian Melber. 

To bolster our case, I called Bob Kuhn, Assistant Director of the New York State Office of Parks, Recreation and Historic Preservation, to see if, based on information at hand, the Squier house could be declared eligible for the National Register of Historic Places. This would underline the site’s significance for a judge, and also prevent state and federal funds or powers to be used to aid demolition, plus make it eligible for tax credits. 

Kuhn got right on it, and I had his determination letter faxed to me in time to include in our legal packet.

That done, I commandeered the family car and drove downtown, where I met Brian for the first time, and signed court papers. He would track down a judge, argue the case for a TRO, and hopefully get an order signed. 

Finding a judge in a courthouse on a late Friday afternoon is tough at anytime. The last Friday before Christmas was only going to be harder.


A sidewalk scrum and Trenchcoat Man

Just before 2:00, I went to back to the site for the press conference, with handouts on the history of the property and the news release. Television and print cameramen, and radio-, print-, and tv reporters were assembling on the Main Street sidewalk. A city inspector and manager and excavator operator, William “Wild Bill” Denton of Topor Contracting could be seen talking in the central hall of the mansion through its open door. We had given Denton the nickname due to his evident joy in saddling up and whacking buildings, no questions asked.

The inspector was there to certify that all the asbestos cited in the removal permit—reportedly floor tiles and basement pipe wrap—had been removed. If so, the general demolition permit would be handed over and the building whacked immediately.

The inspector could see the media phalanx on the sidewalk as well. He walked out, and stated he could not go into the basement because it seemed dangerous to do so. Therefore, he could not certify that the asbestos had been removed. Cunningham would have to find an independent state certified inspector willing to go in the basement. I was certain the inspector had a demolition permit in his jacket pocket, and would have handed it to Wild Bill were it not for the witnesses arrayed before him.

Wild Bill The Demo Guy left immediately after the 20-minute news conference. As I was finishing up with the last interviews, I noticed a trench-coated man waiting around. After everyone else had left, he approached. He introduced himself and handed me his card. He was a Special Agent working for the Environmental Protection Agency’s Office of the Inspector General. He told me to call him if we saw any further suspicious activity on the site. We weren’t the only ones who suspected foul play.

Round One was over. It was about 2:30 in the afternoon.

Bob Kresse
Bob Kresse (r.) in 2000. The preservationist attorney got the call from Tielman and persuaded Attorney Brian Melber to take on the case in an instant

Back at the office, our lawyer Brian called. He had a TRO from County Court Judge Sheila DiTullio. I ran back downtown, thanked Brian effusively, and set off to serve it to the owner (who we thought at the time was still Kenneth Gayles), and to whomever might be engaged to actually take the building down, probably Wild Bill. At 4:50pm, at sundown on the shortest day of the year, I returned to the site, not really expecting to find anyone. Within a minute, a Channel 7 cameraman showed up.

The cameraman said the station had been called by Cash Cunningham and told to get to the site for an interior tour of the “dilapidated” complex. I showed the cameraman the TRO and told him I would serve it on any Toper personnel if they showed up. No sooner were the words out of my mouth than Wild Bill pulled up in his pickup, got out, and walked over to his excavator.

I tried to serve him the TRO while the cameraman quickly set up his camera. Wild Bill refused to take the TRO and started walking away. Pursued by me, he finally took the papers when he realized the camera was on and his resistance was being filmed. He and the cameramen left. I imagine Cunningham was watching this from his office window overlooking the seen.

I stuck around to tell any other media that might come that the demo was off. Shortly, another car drove up in the darkness. It was Bob Kresse. I thanked him and got him up to the minute with events. 

The day was over. Merry Christmas. Building saved until after the holidays. Or so we thought.


Architectural stripping by contract

The very next day, Saturday Dec. 22, we started getting calls offering information on the Asylum and the demolition episode. One neighborhood resident reported that both his mother and his aunt were orphans raised there. On Thursday December 20, he said, he saw demolition equipment on the site and was told the complex was coming down. He told personnel his story and asked for a souvenir, even a doorknob. He was given the business card of a notorious antiques dealer specializing in architectural salvage, cocaine dealing, and utility theft. 

Great. Salvage rights had been given to a felon. This thing was getting yuckier by the minute.

Indeed, architectural stripping had begun. Brackets from the porch wing eaves had been removed and placed neatly in the interior hallway, next to interior moldings that had similarly survived for 140 years intact. This methodical stripping belied the need for emergency demolition: not only is there no danger to the public from imminent collapse, there is evidently no danger to private parties working on and inside the structure. This would be helpful in court.

It turned out the I had assumed wrong on the ownership of the complex. An unusually speedy process had delivered it into the hands of Cash Cunningham, by way of a corporation, Bailey Robinson, whose sole asset was the complex. This much was given by Cunningham’s attorney, David Jay, on Christmas Eve, when he arranged for a day-before-Christmas hearing in an attempt to get the whole matter dismissed and the TRO lifted.

Probably, Cunningham had walked from the County Clerk’s office with his freshly minted title, across Delaware Avenue to the Judge Devlin’s chambers in the City Court building, where by prior arrangement, she issued a demolition order for all of 1313 Main Street—five structures in all.

Judge DiTullio, given the new information that the demo permit was for five buildings, rather than one, and a blinding snow squall that was forcing snow through the cracks of her courtroom window sashes and shutting down the city, refused to lift the stay. What was the rush? Let’s wait out the storm. Buffalo went from bare ground to seven feet of snow from Christmas eve through December 28th, a record-setting amount. 

[At this point, you’re thinking, “I wonder if there is any relationship between  a quickie auction, Kevin Gayles’s plea before Judge Devlin, Cunningham showing up in court and offering to by the building, an architectural salvager being contracted, an demolition order being secured, and an asbestos certificate about to change hands?”]

On New Year’s eve, after doing further research at the Central Library, I thought to drive by the site on my way home to see how the buildings had held up.

On or before New Year's Eve 2001, someone had used the excavator to further damage the buildings, despite a TRO

The snow hadn’t done any damage to the buildings. But the excavator had been dusted off, moved about, and used to inflict more damage. There now was a gaping hole clear into one of the structures. Exposed joists showed mechanical damage. The TRO had been violated, apparently after the snows had ended, and perhaps to “prove” that the complex had suffered storm-related damage, and, if it was not in danger of falling down before December 19th, it certainly was now.

I alerted Brian Melber and Judge DiTullio. On January 2nd, DiTullio extended the TRO to Monday January 11, to, among other things, allow the City of Buffalo to be brought into the matter through its Preservation Board, and admonished all parties against further hijinks.

All kinds of hurdles have to be overcome in the course of racing to save a building. Sometimes they come from your own side. Cash Cunningham offered to meet me and Coalition President Susan McCartney, then my wife, at the site for an inspection. We agreed, and thought the meeting could be constructive. The three of us were standing outside at the appointed time when there pulled up a Coalition boardmember. He lived nearby and was driving by. In short order, he had engaged Cunningham in a shouting match that culminated in him sweeping his arm in the direction of Cunningham head, catching the brim of his hat and knocking it off. 

That ended that meeting. Subsequently, any discussion between the Coalition and Cunningham occurred with me, Sue, or Brian Melber and David Jay, Cunningham’s attorney.

On Friday January 4, David Jay called Brain to see if we would entertain an “offer.” 

Almost from the first day in court, Cunningham was making statements to the effect that he was willing to “give” the house to anyone who could demonstrate, to his unspecified satisfaction, that they had the means to restore the building. 

On Monday, January 7, the scheduled hearing was cancelled. Instead an afternoon meeting in City Hall was arranged. It was chaotic, with lawyers, staff, and interested parties filling the meeting room and an adjacent hall.


Threats and “offers”

Cunningham made two separate verbal offers. Included were threats to sue the Coalition and individual members and repeated statements that he had no intention ever of “spending a penny” to repair the any part of the Squier House. The Hat Incident must have been playing in his mind.

One of the offers was to allow the us to market the Squier House and a five-foot band around it for one year, at a price to be determined by Cunningham, and without pursuing National Register status, which could have major tax benefits for a buyer, without Cunningham’s express permission. Cunningham would be given full access to the front lawn for parking or some other use. If we were unsuccessful in finding a buyer for a mansion with a gaping hole in the wall, no property rights, and no tax benefits, we would consent to have the house torn down. Unless, of course, we wished then to buy the building at a price to be determined.

The Coalition, at a subsequent board meeting, rejected the offers as untenable. This much was conveyed to the city’s Preservation Board on January 10. On January 16, members of the Preservation Board and their invitees (your correspondent expressly excluded) toured the Squire House interior and looked into the adjacent “connector” which was inaccessible because its floor had collapsed due to the eight-year-old roof leak. Reports of an engineer and architectural historian were delivered to the Preservation Board on January 24. The mansion was deemed to be in sound condition, save for the hole knocked into it on December 21. The orphanage and connector, with the old fire damage and roof leaks, were deemed to be in poor condition.

It will never be irrefutable whether Judge Devlin, Kenneth Gayles, Cash Cunningham, Inspections Department employee and liason to Housing Court Frank DeJames, and the Inspections commissioner had an understanding of how things could work. If a scheme existed, we had blown it up.

Cunningham said the Inspections Department recommended the emergency demolition and said he would never have bought the property without the understanding that it could be demolished. The Inspections Department states that it merely reported on the condition of the property. DeJames, quoted by Donn Esmonde in the Buffalo News, blamed “soft” judges for the situation.

Devlin, in sentencing Gayles for his building code violations on January 14, went out of her way, as reported in the Buffalo News, to say both that she issued the demolition order of 1313 Main at the city’s request, and that she had “been led to believe local preservationists agreed with the demolition.” 

Devlin and Cunningham’s statements aligned: this whole thing had been cooked up in City Hall. But the house was in DiTullio’s court now, execution stayed, and would remain there until a method was worked out that would restore it.



In August of 2002 an agreement was reached between us, Cunningham, and the Masiello Administration. The city offered to pay half the repair and construction costs. Take that for kind-heartedness or a hush payment. The 1886 additions were demolished in exchange for restoration of the Squier house and maintenance work on the 1898 Green & Wicks building. Later, this was renovated to house a charter school.

493-499 Michigan <1872
Wild Bill was at it again in March 2002, smashing two mid-19th-century buildings next to the Michigan Street Baptist Church, a nationally importatnt historic site. This illegal hit cost Topor Contracting its business and Wild Bill his job.

On March 14, 2002, in the midst of ongoing discussions on the Squier case, I got a call that two buildings were being demolished next to the landmark Michigan Street Baptist Church. Public notice never went out (as it must), nor did asbestos abatement or proper hazardous material handling and disposal. This became apparent when Channel 2 reporter Rich Kellman and crew had filmed me stepping in front of Wild Bill and his excavator to stop the demo, and Kellman, seeing a tattered asbestos wrapping on a pipe behind my head, asked, “Is that asbestos?” As a police officer was persuading me to allow Wild Bill to do his permitted work, a city official arrived on the scene. He was shocked, shocked, by the events, and ordered work stopped.

Federal and State investigators had been building a case against Topor and others while the attempt on the Squier Mansion was made. The Michigan Street action, caught on film, sealed Topor’s and Wild Bill’s fates. 

State and federal authorities arrested and punished four people in connection to the case. No one in City Hall faced any consequences. 

Upon reading the news, I called the Special Agent to congratulate him. He told me, had I not stopped the demolition out on the sidewalk on December 21, he would have had Cash Cunningham arrested, too. 

The Topor business accounts were assumed by employee Albert Steele, whose Hannah Demolition has since grossed millions of dollars in city contracts.