Should our town build this "pedestrian bridge"?

        The way you design a street matters, and what you build along it and overhead matters, too. All these send messages about our priorities and values.

        Our town of South Miami is pretty cool, with the only traditional main street just across US Highway 1 from both the Metrorail and the future Underline linear park/bikeway. There’s a debate raging locally about whether to build a “pedestrian bridge” arcing over US Highway 1, the six-lane street that splits South Miami into two pieces where we really need to unite them. But is a ped bridge the way to do it?

Architectural concepts shown at a recent South Miami City Commission meeting.

Architectural concepts shown at a recent South Miami City Commission meeting.

        A city commissioner asked neighbors to weigh in on the ped bridge idea, so here are my notes:

1.       Design matters.

If a pedestrian bridge is a done deal, and no amount of reasoning or budgeting can dissuade our leaders from building it, then at least make it excellent.

Seeing the two architectural renderings recently, a) one senses that the decision to have a bridge might already have been made, and b) if it is inevitable, a lot more work needs to go into the design. I decided to make this point #1 in case none of the other points below withstand your scrutiny. But please, consider skipping ahead first and then coming back to read the rest of this paragraph.

If there has to be a bridge, you must recognize that this architectural feature will be forever imprinted in the minds of everyone as the gateway to and symbol of the city. Can’t it visually have something to do with its context? It should be classic and timeless, or it will look dated in no time. It must not look corporate. It should be designed to look good even when it gets wet and weathered and when a mix of rain and tailpipe exhaust streaks down it. It should feel gracious and generous, not cramped and cheap and expedient. Most of all it should feel sturdy and confident, not trying to defy gravity or pretend weightlessness over such a long span. Given that at the SW 71st Street crossing location there is a median in the center of US1, one wonders if a two-span structure supported by a center tower might make a better composition and a more doable project; that deserves exploration.

Rarely, but sometimes, a bridge is appropriate.

But…

2.       A terrible highway or a grand signature avenue?

A real city must never abandon movement by people on the ground plane. A real city is experienced at ground level. In Charlotte, as in many other cities, experimental 1970s pedestrian bridges have been removed. We will never recover US1 as a proper avenue if the idea is that the ground level is for cars but people on foot (and bikes?) are supposed to be in the sky. How can the City demand that redevelopers along US1 devise buildings that have doors, windows and storefronts facing US1 (like in any mature city—and like the Holsum Bakery historically did, facing US1), instead of parking garages, blank walls, and back-of-house functions, if by constructing bridges the City makes obvious its belief that US1 is just for cars?

Historically, US1 was faced by the fronts of buildings. The long-demolished Holsum Bakery set the standard.

Historically, US1 was faced by the fronts of buildings. The long-demolished Holsum Bakery set the standard.

3.       Keep the at-grade crossings. Pledge to upgrade them.

Under no circumstances should the at-grade crossings at Sunset Drive, SW 70th Street and Red Road be compromised or fenced or traded-down in any way just to get people to use a bridge. Instead, those crossings should be intensively upgraded, a new one created at SW 73rd Street, and much better ones installed at SW 62nd Avenue and SW 80th Street. Given the record of breakdowns of elevators at our Metrorail stations, I find myself banking on crossing at grade pretty often whether there’s a bridge or not, and I bet a lot of folks in wheelchairs feel the same way. Imagine the objections over compliance with the Americans with Disabilities Act once someone counts the number of days per year the aging elevators are out of order—especially if by then the at-grade crossings are officially discouraged.

4.       How should we spend money?

The bridge enthusiasts include a lot of motoring-only people who rarely walk and bike even less. If they did, they’d understand why ped bridges rarely work as intended. But ped bridges are like Homer Simpson’s monorail: They are fancy showpiece infrastructure that’s ridiculously costly, yet somehow curiously popular in the idea stage, despite being almost impossible to implement and maintain, partly because they are in reality hardly worth the trouble. This bridge in particular has become a safe harbor for political figures. Motor-voters get all excited and say “Yeah, let’s do it” and then, well, if it isn’t really workable, practical or affordable and doesn’t get done, then the commissioner can say It’s Not My Fault. (“Sorry, we didn’t get the grant.”) But if it does get built and is seldom used or looks bad or cracks or worse, they can blame the county, FDOT, or the architects. This safe-either-way formula has led us to the place where at least two city commissioners built their campaigns around their pro-bridge platform. I’m realistic enough to realize it may be futile to point out the shortcomings of the bridge idea anymore. But just in case: Do you want showpiece infrastructure that is really worth the trouble and money and actually makes things better? Redesign the streets. Plant trees.

5.       Design speed matters.

The pedestrian fatalities map from Dangerous by Design, 2021

The pedestrian fatalities map from Dangerous by Design, 2021

There’s no disputing that today the intersections are too uncomfortable and perhaps genuinely dangerous [see the Dangerous by Design interactive map, which documents one fatality since 2008 at Sunset Drive (in 2018) and two fatalities at Red Road (in 2017)]. But so is the street in between the intersections. At least one fatality involved not crossing US1, but merely walking along it. US1 is alarmingly too fast, and yet so much focus is given to the peak hour capacity and shortening travel times. County officials celebrated the recent installation of advanced automated signal timing on US1, which squeezed extra peak-hour capacity out of the intersections (as long as you were trying to drive along the road, instead of walking, biking or driving across it). Working within the limitations of the existing number of lanes (six! plus turn lanes) they managed to wring out improved drive times from down south to downtown. It’s impressive technology. Yet I ask, were any of the minutes saved along the corridor used to expand the crossing signal times for pedestrians, anywhere? Or did all the benefit accrue to motorists alone?

Meanwhile, consider the rest of the day and night. All that asphalt is a clear invitation to excessive speeds in the off-peak times. When someone makes a mistake, whether they are drunk or not, their high speed ups the mayhem. We take it for granted that US1 is forever meant to be a super-speedy facility. We shouldn’t. Here’s why:

When a motorist driving 20mph makes an error and strikes a pedestrian, the result is a fatality 5% of the time. When they are driving 30mph, the result is a dead pedestrian 45% of the time. At 45mph, the motorist kills that pedestrian 85% of the time. Car-on-car collisions are similar in that the higher the speed, the worse the injuries and fatalities. That is why 40,000+ people a year are dying in the streets of the United States, and our state, with its Teflon-coated roads, has the worst record in the nation in this public safety crisis.

Don’t get alarmed, commuters. Yes, I said slow down US1. Speeding up just to catch the taillights of the car in front of you at the next traffic signal might feel satisfying, but it doesn’t get you to your destination any faster. That’s because at around 26 or 27mph, we get the most efficient use of a lane, that is, the most cars past a point in space per hour; go any faster, and as you spread out, you eat up any gains. Traffic engineers will admit this; if you want to look it up, start by searching for “Speed / Flow Capacity diagram.”

Where did all those commuters from way down south that ream their way through South Miami twice a day come from, anyway? They are the embodiment of a cold reality: the statewide program of building wide, fast roads (instead of transit), in hopes of making it possible for motorists to freely flow, has only encouraged them to roam farther. Widening roads like US1 facilitated the sprawl. It’s called Induced Travel Demand. Traffic engineers will admit this too. It is why US1 should never have been widened so much in the first place. Ultimately, we should investigate repurposing a couple of those lanes. But that is a topic for another post.

So: Why is the big idea getting pedestrians up in the air away from our streets, instead of slowing down the cars to a reasonable pace? Because these bridges are not really built for the benefit of pedestrians:

6.       These bridges aren’t really “pedestrian bridges.”

They’re structures built as band-aids after the streets of a city are savagely deformed for cars, built after the fact to give lip service to pedestrian friendliness. But insidiously, they usually become an excuse to further reduce the red-signal time for motorists on the highways they span. The pedestrian bridge is all about getting pesky pedestrians out of the way so motorists can zoom along without waiting so long for humans to cross. If South Miami’s debate were really about making humans happy on foot, there’d be an accompanying campaign to plant street trees on the bland, bald streets that lead to our Metrorail station and these very intersections.

Green time on US1 has long been the transpocracy’s only priority; that’s why the “Go” signal phase is so short and infrequent for pedestrians. If our local and state governments want to send a powerful message that pedestrian comfort and safety are the top priorities, more important than pass-through “throughput capacity” for outsider motorists, then

As easy as changing the settings in the computer: Lengthen the crossing phase.

As easy as changing the settings in the computer: Lengthen the crossing phase.

  • redesign the meager at-grade crossings for high visibility,

  • lengthen the duration of the “Go” signal phase for US1 pedestrian crossings (which just requires tweaking dials on a computer), and

  • plant a lot of street trees and improve sidewalks.

If our governments want to send a powerful message that safe and comfortable cycling is a priority, then retrofit Red Road and other streets with protected bike lanes.

These measures can all be accomplished at a fraction of the cost of a single pedestrian bridge.

7.       Bridges aren’t as convenient and direct as people think.

Bleak SW 71st St can be great someday, but it’s not yet

Bleak SW 71st St can be great someday, but it’s not yet

The newest proposed alignment for a bridge at SW 71st Street, if it fits at all between the Metrorail dripline and the US1 curbline, is one-third better than previous proposals, if on its west end it includes a direct entrance/exit from within the Metrorail station to the bridge elevator doors, with no looping around. (However, that means a solution will have to be found for those on foot or bike who are not coming from or going to Metrorail, and thus can’t enter the station, and will have to loop around.) Then, once one exits the bridge on its east end at 71st Street, where will they be? On a sad, car-dominated alley. 71st Street is (at least today) a half-built nowhere with deeply-setback one-story buildings poking out of parking lots—where our pedestrians will find there’s no clear route to the main attractions on Sunset Drive and 73rd Street. If there is to be a bridge landing here, at least the City should couple that with a concerted redevelopment/infill effort. Someday, if they ever follow the Hometown Plan, 71st Street will be great. But it’s not, yet.

Meanwhile, can we reasonably expect walkers who are already crossing directly to the attractions at Sunset Drive to go out of their way north to the 71st Street bridge, wait for an elevator, cross, wait for another elevator, and then double back to Sunset and Dorn Avenue? See “Keep the At-Grade Crossings” above.

The narrow space between dripline and curbline, where the structure, elevator, landing, stairs, and walkway would have to fit.

The narrow space between dripline and curbline, where the structure, elevator, landing, stairs, and walkway would have to fit.

8.       The space is really, really tight. Expect delays.

The distance between the dripline of the Metrorail northbound tracks and the curbline next to the southbound lanes of US1 is very, very small. Fitting a structure with an elevator, stair tower, landings and so forth in that space might not be impossible, but it will be like threading a needle if it’s doable at all. To implement it, this will require the closing of one or more lanes of traffic for an extended period during construction. (Add up all that delay, over many months, and compare it to adding a few seconds to the “Go” signal phase for pedestrians at SW 72nd Street and SW 80th Street. Apparently, we are willing to slow down motorists on US1 after all.) In addition, implementing this bridge in such tight quarters could also require realigning the whole of the road itself to correct lane widths and get enough space. (Add up that delay too.) In that case, shouldn’t we just fix the whole street?

If lane realignment turns out to be the solution, why not go ahead and redesign US1 as a beautiful, crossable, tree-lined avenue in the first place, instead of building a bridge? Or at least, worst case, in addition to building a bridge? Lane realignments do happen, even on an FDOT facility like US1, as we saw recently just south of Douglas Road in Coral Gables.

9.       Divider or seam?

“The popularity of pedestrian bridges, in a nutshell.” Photographer unknown

“The popularity of pedestrian bridges, in a nutshell.” Photographer unknown

Transportation expert Jim Charlier (Google him) famously quipped that “the primary benefit of `pedestrian’ bridges is to provide shade for the pedestrians that will insist on crossing down below at grade.” Since crossing in the sky is an unnatural act, traffic engineers devise ways to force people to do it. One common way to force more users onto a bridge is to fence off the at-grade alternatives, as has been done at the other intersections near bridges on US1, including at Mariposa. This sends a terrible message: Drive as fast as you want on US1—we’re keeping the regular walking-around folks out of your way.

For years people would sprint through the bushes under the Vizcaya “hamster” bridge rather than use its uncomfortable, indirect route; the transpocrats eventually kept adding layer upon layer of fortification to prevent this, feeling that the close proximity to the I-95 terminus left them with no other options.

But if the reason to build a bridge in South Miami is to symbolically unify the two halves of our city, but then we allow the agencies to fortify and wall off our city in this way, we will end up with an even more divided, more fragmented city instead. That’s the opposite of the goal and of the message we want to send. If we want to unify the city, we have to convert US1 from a divider into a joint or seam. The way to do this is to redesign US1 as a beautiful, tree-lined, grand, signature avenue.

10.   Misreading the scale.

Michigan Avenue, between the Chicago Hilton & Grant Park, has the same number of lanes as US1 in SoMi.

Michigan Avenue, between the Chicago Hilton & Grant Park, has the same number of lanes as US1 in SoMi.

A six-lane street can be made reasonably crossable at grade. Many of the grand tree-lined boulevards of Paris have even more lanes; the Champs-Elysees is sixteen lanes wide. Michigan Avenue in front of the Chicago Hilton is seven lanes wide. Yet crossing from the Hilton to Grant Park feels perfectly natural, like pedestrians are meant to do it.

Hurry, we’ve got some cars to move through here.

Hurry, we’ve got some cars to move through here.

Peering through their windshields, some people in South Miami tend to assume a six-lane street is too hard to cross because they see the cars moving through the intersection on the green signal are driving too fast, the lanes are too wide, there is no legit mid-crossing refuge, and (this is the crucial point) the pedestrian “Go” signal phase doesn’t last nearly long enough. Let the pedestrians decide.

11.   One more risky bridge?

The FIU 8th Street bridge collapse, 2018. Miami Herald photo by Pedro Portal PPORTAL@MIAMIHERALD.COM (permission requested)

The FIU 8th Street bridge collapse, 2018. Miami Herald photo by Pedro Portal PPORTAL@MIAMIHERALD.COM (permission requested)

An effective way to make national news headlines is for a bridge to fail. (Google “FIU bridge tragedy.”) Another is to have a viral story about a person leaving the elevator and getting mugged midspan, trapped by two or more cooperating criminals coming from opposite directions. Short of placing a security officer fulltime in the bridge itself, or manning an ungodly number of cameras, how can this be prevented?

12. Is there ever a time or place where ped/bike bridges are appropriate?

Yes. There are places where continuity and functionality for those walking and running and biking on trails simply can’t be obtained without a grade-separated bridge. Constructing the bridge on the Underline/M-Path over the Snapper Creek Expressway entrance was appropriate; when it was built, it solved the notorious “Dadeland Gap” for cyclists on the East Coast Greenway. The West Orange Trail has a very effective bridge over Florida’s Turnpike, where the pedestrian realm at grade has already been permanently surrendered. Our own design for the Ludlam Trail has bridges over corridors where continuity demands it (but in addition to, not instead of, excellent at-grade crossings). And who can forget the Ponte Vecchio in Florence (over a big river) or the Rialto in Venice (over a big canal), both destinations in themselves? But here are the problems: Downtown South Miami isn’t one of those situations where functional crossing is impossible at grade, and US1 is not irretrievable for pedestrians like, say, the Turnpike. Squeezing in an elevator-only bridge at 71st Street between the Metrorail and US1 where users have to go out of their way to snake around to it isn’t going to create continuity, it’s the opposite. Other locations that have been explored upstream and downstream have even worse disadvantages.

13.   Would this use all of our City’s PTP (CITT) funds? What’s the funding plan? How does it reflect our values?

It has been said that the City’s whole share of funds from the Peoples’ Transportation Plan / Citizens Independent Transportation Trust, for many years running, would have to be used to finance the bridge. If confirmed, that would mean those special sales tax funds are no longer available to run the fabulous Freebee electric shuttle, or to make crucial citywide improvements for walking or cycling, or to renovate Sunset Drive as part of downtown revitalization, or to implement the rest of the City’s Intermodal Transportation Plan. That would be a bad trade.

—Victor Dover FAICP

Lake Wales Connected wins 2021 “Plan It” award and Jan Johnson Public Participation Award

Downtown Lake Wales

Downtown Lake Wales

Last Friday at the annual meeting of the Heart of Florida Section of the American Planning Association, the Lake Wales Connected plan was presented the 2021 “Plan It” award and the Jan Johnson Public Participation Award. The awards recognize DK&P’s visionary strategy for revitalization of Lake Wales’ central core, the interactive community engagement process used to create the plan, and the implementation efforts the City has undertaken over the past year.

For more information, check out Lake Wales Connected.

Want to unlock investment? Give transit its own lane

Transit-oriented development concept for BRT corridor, Chapel Hill, NC. Dover, Kohl & Partners & AECOM, 2018.

As planners we tend to toss the around the relatively novel term “transit-oriented development.” There are clear advantages to having more souls around within walking distance of the public transit stop and local-serving commerce, all brought together in a compact, mixed-use, walkable package of architecture, street design, and public spaces. To get all that to happen, your city has to plan for it.

Sometimes there’s a debate about which comes first, the transit improvements or the transit-supportive growth. (“Transit-ready” and “transit-worthy” development come up, among the terms we rely on to explain why some corridors could be made more competitive in the hunt for infrastructure dollars, if they grow pre-established, ridership-inducing jobs and housing and other destinations).

But stop to think about this: Before the sprawl experiment— before American cities started orienting everything around single-occupant car trips— virtually all urban development was transit-oriented development. Back then we called it by much friendlier names, like “towns” and “neighborhoods” (so, given the choice, I still do). The heart of any given community coalesced around its stagecoach stop, its ferry landing, its train station, or its streetcar stop, in a natural process borne from convenience and value creation. It’s a proven, repeatable formula.

We can do the same thing today around modern investments in high-quality public transportation, including relatively economical bus rapid transit (BRT) corridors. The real estate development that underpins your town’s tax base depends on predictability; uncertainty is the enemy of investment. A firm upfront commitment to high-quality transit that dependably attracts riders will reduce the risk to investors. What will make riders choose transit over driving everywhere? Frequent, low-cost, reliable service? Yes. A visit-worthy neighborhood that’s easy to move around in on foot, once you’ve left the vehicle? Yes, and there are myriad other variables. But if we are going to do this with rubber-tire vehicles that share the streets with All Those Cars, one of the best things we can do is give the transit vehicles their own lane. The incentive to ride transit goes way up if your bus isn’t stuck in the same traffic you’d be in if you drove. The message with bus-only lanes is clear: If you don’t like sitting in congestion, get out of your car and ride the BRT.

Traumatized by the drop in ridership during the COVID-19 crisis, transit systems remain essential and will need every advantage to get back on their feet. Once vaccines allow for building up transit systems again, we will need to work fast to stabilize and grow them. We ought to feed them by growing neighborhoods that work, compete, and thrive in synergy with transit. It’s one reason that the land use policies and regulations that support compact, complete, connected communities are now more crucial than ever. —Victor

Progress, and a Pause to Rethink, in ATL's "Pittsburgh" Neighborhood

Rockwell Street: Incremental development is the medium; investments in people, the public realm, and regulatory reform are the catalysts.

Much can be accomplished when people pull together, and philanthropy can play a pivotal role in this aspect of community revitalization. The Annie E. Casey Foundation has just published an extensive summary of the housing progress made in Atlanta’s Pittsburgh neighborhood since our Preservation of Pittsburgh plan, funded by the Foundation and devised with deep public engagement, was created in 2012.

Once it was home to so many industrial jobs— and so much rust and pollution— that it reminded people of smoky northern cities, so they took to calling this part of Atlanta “Pittsburgh.” Neighborhoods like this one are revitalized step by step by many people; planning allows the public and private effort to be coordinated in a great neighborhood building enterprise with some idea of what the whole is meant to become as it evolves. At the urging of a spinoff nonprofit from the Foundation, the Dover-Kohl design team helped establish community consensus and restore expectations, through hands-on design with citizens. Hopefully that shared vision laid the groundwork for the future public support necessary for both preservation and redevelopment.

Redevelopment + preservation efforts underway on Beryl Street. Photo from AECF report

Balance, above all, is the theme in that plan; the many authors of the Preservation of Pittsburgh plan struggled to find equilibrium between equally important goals of historic preservation and a spirit of newness. The “citizen planner” team insisted that the plan include basics upfront like cleaning up vacant lots, preserving affordability, and improving safety while working toward the desired urban image for the heart of the community. The group effort defined Basic First Principles for preservation, revitalization and development without displacement. Today, as new housing is being created and a new neighborhood comeback is underway, those preservation and anti-displacement goals are certainly being tested, and it remains to be seen whether public policy will keep up, now that Pittsburgh is getting noticed. Philanthropy and non-profit organizations will continue to be central to this. Here’s a new story about nonprofits coming back to a reconstruction of one of the neighborhood’s most historic, and visually symbolic, structures.

Annie E. Casey Foundation report suggests Pittsburgh plan’s anti-displacement ideas will be sorely tested

Gradual change over time is the natural means of urban progress. Incremental development is the medium; investment in people, the public realm, and regulatory reform are the catalysts. As confidence returns to a street or neighborhood, each increment of progress should lay the groundwork for the next.

In our Pittsburgh work, we created a pair of “before and after” sequences that illustrate the idea of stepwise change over time. One (above) shows Rockwell Street evolving to include first community gardens, then infrastructure upgrades, then, eventually, new housing.

The second sequence, below, shows gradual transformation of McDaniel Street in the heart of the community. This one bears a pause to re-look, and rethink, in light of the Black Lives Matter movement and concerns over the role of police, because the sequence starts with the appearance of a police car and pop-up installation of a police kiosk. Here’s the backstory: When that watercolor was painted, desperation was high. That “police presence” image came from requests from citizens in the neighborhood; there was yet another shooting on the streets in Pittsburgh during the design charrette week, just steps from the design studio. Some of the neighbors felt like the City and public safety officers had just given up on them. Through today’s lens, though, that image of the overwatch kiosk might conjure fears of authoritarianism, and the anonymous squad car was a poor choice on my part; I wish we’d at least illustrated a cop interacting with neighbors during his/her walking beat, applying community policing principles, instead of that patrol car. I hope that in the years since, all our views about policing and over-policing have become more nuanced and alarmed. In the end, the City of Atlanta never did implement the kiosk idea.  —Victor

McDaniel Street: Each increment of progress should lay the groundwork for the next.

Annie E. Casey Foundation Report timeline

Pass the Great American Outdoors Act

OPEN MIC, published in The Miami Herald, July 16, 2020

In late June, the U.S. Senate approved the Great American Outdoors Act by a vote of 73-25, providing permanent funding for the Land and Water Conservation Fund (LWCF). Now the U.S. House of Representatives is scheduled to take up parallel legislation on July 22. Join the call to action and send your Congressional representative a note urging a Yes vote.

This legislation is important and needs your support. The LWCF, signed into law in 1965, has funded over 42,000 park and outdoor recreation projects nationally. Funded by oil and gas revenues — not taxpayers — the LWCF was originally designated for parks and outdoor recreation. And yet, over the years, Congress shortchanged the parks, failing to release billions of dollars that should have gone to parks.

This new legislation fixes that problem by making LWCF funding permanent.  As board members of the National Recreation and Parks Association, we see ample evidence of the significant contributions parks make to communities. A strong park system with ample green space and diverse programs supports a healthy, vital and resilient city. We also see that not all parks are equal, and neither is access to parks. We need to fix this.

If we didn’t realize it earlier, the pandemic has surely shown us the importance of parks in our lives. Providing green space, fresh air and sunlight, the parks and the parks professionals who keep our parks going demonstrate the essential role of parks in bringing our communities and families together, helping our people get and stay healthy, enhancing the lifestyle that enables our businesses and institutions recruit and retain talent, and serving as the memorable and profound landmarks of our civic identity.

We need the House of Representatives to act. We hope that you will contact your representatives in Congress and urge them to quickly pass the Great American Outdoors Act to ensure a greener and healthier Miami, South Florida, and USA for today and generations to come.

Victor Dover FAICP, Dover, Kohl & Partners; Vice-President, Parks Foundation of Miami-Dade

Joanna Lombard, Professor, University of Miami Schools of Architecture and Medicine

Jack Kardys, Board Chair, NRPA; Former Director, Miami-Dade PROS

Jose Felix Diaz, Ballard Partners; Former Member, Florida House of Representatives

The Lifesaving, City-Shaping Power of Parks & Greenways (TPS Ep. 12)

The Dequindre Cut Greenway, Detroit

The design of a city begins with streets and squares and neighborhoods, but it also depends on its parks and open spaces, and the connections between them. Parks, greenways and blueways give form to the neighborhoods and bring nature into the city.

The Olmsted Vaux & Co. plan for Prospect Park, Brooklyn (1868)

Genesis of the modern planning profession

Kim Williams Trail, Downtown Missoula, MT

In many ways today’s practice of city planning was born with parks. Progressive reformers, concerned with public health in the smoky industrial cities, turned to landscape architects to create ample, green, open-to-the-sky spaces where people could relax amid nature, and the air and water could be cleansed. Frederick Law Olmsted’s idea for the Emerald Necklace of interconnected parks and green corridors in Boston was a public health idea, and a water-cleanup idea, not just a leisure idea. And the first American to identify himself as a professional city planner, John Nolen, was in fact a landscape architect by training, with a long career in parks planning already behind him as he began devising new towns and reshaping old ones.

These innovators realized the planning of neighborhoods and transportation corridors and the establishment of open spaces weren’t separate acts, to be dealt with in their own separate professional silos. And they understood that the green parts of a city aren’t just leftovers, to be ignored in between the built-up areas that receive all sorts of attention from architects, engineers and real estate developers. Instead, the natural and green parts should be subjects of design in themselves, allowing for restoration and maximizing community benefits and ecological values.

Starting a plan with the public spaces

Concept for a playground and neighborhood plaza from Plan El Paso (DK&P, 2012)

When we design a neighborhood, we begin with the green parts. We start with the tree-lined streets that link the small spaces where neighbors of all ages come together—including the youngest and oldest among us—and then work our way out to the playfields where children learn teamwork and grow fit, to the greenbelt or natural edges that shape the neighborhood, then to the trails or greenways that give respite in our busy daily lives.

Dover, Kohl & Partners’ original vision for Museum Park in Miami, 2001 (Illustration: Pedro-Pablo Godoy)

Starting with the public space makes life the focus of placemaking, and makes real estate development the backdrop. This is the right order of things, because public spaces are where our memories of cities are formed.

Silos

DK&P concept for transit-oriented development & public square along the South Dade Transitway (2018)

Dover, Kohl & Partners concept for a park in the heart of North Beach (2016)

Today’s parks and recreation programs are often operated in their own departments, separated from the day to day work of city planning departments, but their plans should be integrated, especially now, when park spaces hold the lifesaving, economy-saving solutions for urbanism in the era of climate change.

Pennypack Park, Philadelphia (Photo: Sandy Sorlien)

Rock Creek Park, Washington DC (Photo: Orhan)

Bryant Park, in Manhattan (Photo: James Dougherty)

The economic power of parks

Parks do cost money in a city’s budget, but they add value straight back to the city’s revenue base and to the wealth of surrounding property owners. They save taxpayers money, too:

  • In the seminal study of its kind, Pennypack Park in Philadelphia was shown to have a positive impact on the value of surrounding taxable real estate of $2,600 per household. That’s $3.36 million per year—in 1974 dollars. (That’s about $17.5 million in 2020.)

  • Each year, Washington’s Rock Creek Park results in nearly $9 million in additional property taxes to cover crucial municipal needs in the District of Columbia.

  • Bryant Park in Manhattan offers a story of return on investment. Thanks to its renovation in the early 1990s, with its famous movable tables and chairs, Bryant Park now draws visits from 20,000 people each day. Rents in surrounding areas rose 56% between 1990 and 2002; in the same period, rents on properties directly overlooking the park rose an astonishing 170%.

  • Physical activities in Sacramento parks yield an estimated $20 million per year in medical-cost savings alone.

Getting there

From Shutterstock / Stock Media Seller

A basic national goal has been set of having park space within ten minutes’ walk of every home. It’s a start. But it’s not just a matter of keeping the distance short—we also need good means of getting there. Nonmotorized transportation on bike-friendly, walk-friendly streets and multi-user trails are needed to connect our local parks to where we live and work and go to school. Once you arrive, a park should greet citizens with openness and a sense of welcome. In New York City, the Parks Department has spent the last several years removing the barricades and tall metal fences that once walled off the parks from the neighborhoods that surround them. Today we can see what NYC Parks Commissioner Mitchell Silver calls “parks without borders,” extending through these renewed connections to give everyone the option of a park life.

Even at the super-regional scale

Large-scale trail systems, like the East Coast Greenway, are gradually taking the interconnected web of park life to the next level, allowing for long nonmotorized commutes and bike tourism. The visions for these systems extend beyond the borders of municipalities and states, linking vast regions. It’s not a new idea. The proving ground for this super-regional approach was the beloved Appalachian Trail, first proposed by naturalist Benton MacKaye in 1921. MacKaye and his followers believed the key to human mental health and happiness was regular exposure to three “elemental landscapes,” essentially consisting of wilderness, working landscapes (like farms and working waterfronts), and cities. MacKaye saw park systems as offering a chance to offset the dehumanizing, de-naturalizing effects of mechanistic industrial work and brutal commerce—which he called “de-creation”—with what has since commonly come to be known as recreation:

“We need the big sweep of hills or sea as tonic for our jaded nerves - And so Mr. Benton MacKaye offers us a new theme in regional planning. It is not a plan for more efficient labor, but a plan of escape. He would as far as is practicable conserve the whole stretch of the Appalachian Mountains for recreation. Recreation in the biggest sense - the recreation of the spirit that is being crushed by the machinery of the modem industrial city - the spirit of fellowship and cooperation.”

Clarence Stein, 1921

Parco delle Rimembranze, Venice.

Green spaces and our physical and mental well-being

We know now that Olmsted, Nolen, Stein and MacKaye—among many others—were onto something big. Decades of scientific studies have linked regular access to green space for physical activity to chronic disease prevention, and the data show that just seeing green spaces speeds healing and boosts wellness. The NRPA Report from 2010 found that a thirty-minute walk among trees “lowers blood glucose levels far more than the same amount of time spent doing physical activity in other settings. Half-hour walks in forest result in larger drops in blood glucose than three hours of cycling.” The same report documents how twenty minutes of walking in a park improved concentration among kids with ADHD at least as much as two frequently prescribed ADHD drugs! Eight separate large-scale clinical studies found that regular visits to green spaces dramatically reduce stress (Stigsdotter, 2010 and Maller, 2008). Dutch researchers established that diagnoses of anxiety disorders are 44 percent higher in residential areas with less green space than in communities well-supplied with parks.

Listening to the land

The traditions in landscape architecture show us that parks, greenways and waterways take their best form when designers listen closely to the lay of the land, from the way the topography rolls, and folding in the natural courses of stormwater. Designed this way, the green weave supports not just human happiness but flood control, water quality, flyways for birds, pollinator corridors for winged insects, the food web, and adaptation to climate change and sea level rise.

The continuum of green: Newfield & its environs (Dover, Kohl & Partners, 2019)

Continuum of green

Pulling all this together, modern day parks-planning practitioners like David Barth describe a “continuum of green” that extends from the tiniest tot lot or pocket park, to the community garden, to the neighborhood square, to the recreational fields, to large scale parks, to restoration of wilderness and conservation areas, and beyond, all interconnected by greenways, tree-lined streets, broad green boulevards, and trails.

Parks, greenways, & blueways are spotlighted in Episode 12 of Town Planning Stuff Everyone Needs to Know. They are of primary importance and they affect everything. As Miami-Dade County’s parks director Maria Nardi likes to say, “Parks just might save the world.”

For more information, check out the Ten Minute Walk commitment campaign from the National Recreation and Parks Association, the Trust for Public Land and others. Also, go to NRPA’s website to learn how to become a Parks Champion.

Parks without borders: Neighborhood square conceived by DK&P for Raleigh (2008)

Street-Oriented Architecture (TPS Ep. 11)

Places where people like to be ALWAYS have street-oriented architecture. Have you had enough of the blank walls, garage doors, and parking lots along your si...

Perhaps the key distinguishing feature between vibrant urban places and the drab scenes Jim Kunstler once called “the geography of nowhere” is this:

Places where people like to be always have street-oriented architecture. The buildings are engaged with the street in some legible, designed way; there’s an indispensable building-to-street relationship that feels mutually reinforcing.

Anatomy of a main street storefront building

The street space, that “public room,” extends from building face to building face—so the way individual buildings are designed affects, and even creates, the experience we have in that space. Many traditional building types, lot layouts and architectural grammar evolved as they did for precisely this reason; they dependably create a good experience and present each building to its neighborhood in a respectable manner.

For example, porches within conversational distance of the sidewalk give houses a neighborly sociability, and provide an agreeable intermediate layer of space between the fully public street and the fully private interior. On intimate streets of rowhouses, stoops and dooryards leave no doubt about where the front façade of the building is.

The finished floors of most rowhouses in Old Town Alexandria are elevated above the sidewalk level for privacy.

In most cases, an elevated finished floor level on the first inhabited floor is useful because it gives the interiors of rowhouses and ground floor apartments an extra degree of privacy and dignity, offsetting the fact that they are so close to the public realm. If you’re walking by outside along the sidewalk, and the inhabitants have their curtains and shutters open, you might see their chandelier, but you won’t be staring at them sitting on the couch or seeing what they’re watching on television! You won’t feel like an intruder, and they won’t feel intruded upon. But here’s an important caveat: In our times, we also need to be sensitive when applying this traditional detail, by also making accommodations for accessibility and visibility. The traditional elevated finished floor makes access difficult for those in wheelchairs or with mobility impairments, so shared ramps, lifts, zero-step entrances into spaces below the piano nobile, slightly elevated alleys, and roll-in lobbies can all be employed.

Storefront buildings on King Street in Old Town Alexandria, Virginia. Small details of architectural grammar matter.

On commercial and mixed-use streets, well-designed storefronts are the key. Consider the anatomy of a traditional Main Street building. Again, the details of architecture intermediate between the public spaces and the private interiors. Awnings, arcades, colonnades, galleries and other appurtenances help us deal with the sun and rain, but they are also ways the architecture reaches out, engages with, and embraces the street space. On the most successful streets, there’s always a clear front door to each building, facing the street. Having frequent doors along the street reinforces the scene.

On main streets, mixed-use buildings should usually have an expression line just above the ground floor, such as a cornice or eyebrow, forming a base that separates the private upper floors from the public world of the commercial street scene below.

#WhatNotToDo

Now, compare all that to deep setbacks, parking lots in front, or to rows of garage doors and “snout houses,” and to blank walls. This soul-destroying pattern became commonplace in late 20th Century suburbia, yet it’s never been shown to work well at making a people-friendly place or street scene—not even once! By contrast, in traditional urbanism, pleasant streets and street-oriented architecture support each other, time and again. When the streets are hostile, we’ll invariably find buildings retreating from the street, recoiling, turning their backside toward the neighborhood.

#whatnottodo

Chattanooga. Photo: Kenneth Garcia

It’s not a style thing. Every architectural style, including modernism, has fine examples of street-oriented designs.

Street-Oriented Architecture: It’s number 11 on my list of Town Planning Stuff Everyone Needs to Know.  Check out Episode 11 of the series, and please share, comment, and subscribe. --Victor

The Power of Street Trees (TPS Ep. 10)

Main Street, Greenville, South Carolina

There’s one detail that makes a huge difference in the public realm, and that’s the humble street tree.

Landscape architect Henry Arnold once said, “Fifty percent of urban design is, street trees.” On a tree-lined street, look up; the canopy forms the ceiling of our shared public room. Arnold wrote, “An urban street without street trees is like a building without a roof.”

Cours la Reine, Paris

Shaping space while lending beauty, order

The Ladd’s Addition neighborhood in Portland

Line street trees up, and something magic happens. A tree-lined street is a deliberate intervention, an ordering of the public space, a statement in the common human language of geometry. It never fails to make a place where more people want to be.

One tree, many benefits

However, street trees are not just about making the place more beautiful and ordering the space, but also:

Shade - They shade our walks and bike rides. Street trees can lower the urban heat island effect, by as much as three to seven degrees Fahrenheit.

Legare Street, Charleston, South Carolina

Value - They make the city more economically potent. Two identical houses in otherwise similar neighborhoods will command wildly different prices, if one is on a tree-lined street and the other isn’t.

Water - They hold stormwater and clean up pollution.

CO₂ - Critically, they sponge up carbon dioxide, a key greenhouse gas tied to global warming, and then they make oxygen—and we breathe that stuff!

Missoula, Montana

Lower Cooling Costs - In summer, trees shade the buildings and that lowers cooling costs, as much as 35%, and they cut glare, leaving a delightful pattern of dappled light on our streets.

Place, Brand - Flowering trees and autumn leaves put on spectacular annual shows, drawing us to these places.

Troy, New York. Kenneth García photo

Warmth - And in winter, in temperate climates, deciduous trees lose their leaves to let light in to warm the sidewalks and buildings.

Traffic Calming - They keep us safer, calming traffic.

Habits can be broken

For part of the twentieth century, the street tree tradition faded amid compacted city soil, bad habits and poor assumptions. Convinced— by examples with meager, incorrect planting pits—that urban trees will never thrive and they’ll die young, decision-makers began to question whether they were worth the effort and expense. Public works officials started trimming budgets with the old line, “We’ll add the trees in a later phase.” Some minimalists, seeing starkness as a virtue, pulled their architecture away from trees into wide-open displays. Some landscape architects and arborists began to oppose traditionally aligned trees with close spacing, arguing that this geometry was too formal and dissimilar from the way certain trees grow in the wilderness, and pointing out that the roots under each tree need substantial space. They were willing to forgo the benefits and visual effects of allowing the upper branches to intersect with those of the adjacent trees and having more continuous shade for pedestrians. During the same period, departments of transportation were focused on speeding up and accommodating more cars rather than slowing them down. So they started to see shade trees as a liability, insisting on flimsy “frangibles” instead of the sturdy oaks, maples and elms customary in times past.

Get the planting details correct

Generous planting areas on the avenues of Chicago, Illinois

The turnaround came as landscape architects like Arnold and others realized that, with the right planting details and species choices, urban trees can indeed thrive. Much depends on the preparation of the hole in which the tree will be planted. For example, for the Live Oaks common on streets here in Florida, one key is not only allowing for a larger area of loosened soil below ground for the primary roots seeking water, but also for a larger open area up top around the tree, where fine hair-like roots seek air and filtered sunlight. Our landscape architect Jay Hood specified an innovative planting system for Park Avenue in Winter Park that freed the tree trunks from tight wells with metal grates and allowed for walkable surfaces to float above the roots and loosened soil below. Those trees have defied all expectations and grown quite tall. Many people are surprised to learn they were planted so recently.

In the last couple decades, new techniques and products have emerged to improve the success of street trees in urban areas where space is tight and impervious surfaces predominate. So-called “structural soil” and underground suspension systems have become common. These allow the roots to spread within loosened soil without ramming into excessively compacted earth, yet they solve the problematic lifting of sidewalks.

Green Blue Urban’s tree root system, undergoing installation in Thomasville, Georgia. Rick Hall photo

On wide boulevards and leafy residential streets where trees can be planted in linear, continuous landscape strips, your crew can dig a long trench for the whole tree line rather than individual circular holes. After planting and backfilling (avoiding too much compacting), this produces a larger area of loosened soil for the roots to explore. Naturally this requires thinking ahead about the alignment of underground utilities, drainage, and other details. Bottom line: Consult a competent professional on the right way to plant your street trees.

Beautiful exceptions: Cour du Commerce Saint-André in Paris, and Calle Malasia, in Buenos Aires’ Belgrano neighborhood

Exceptions to the rule

For all the reasons we’ve reviewed, on most of our streets and in most of our communities, we’re better off with lines of street trees, especially in temperate, moderately humid climates. But there are exceptions to this rule. For example, extraordinarily arid places where water is scarce or costly call for other solutions to supplying shade and visual interest, such as narrow streets with buildings brought closer together and cantilevered architectural elements that encroach beyond the building envelope. Fewer trees can also be best for far-north climates where letting more sun in during the many shortened days outranks having shade on the rare warm day. Even in a sunny place where trees grow easily, we might still opt for a unique, skinny, tree-less street here and there in a neighborhood plan, to diversify the addresses and experiences on offer. There are also many kinds of commercial streets and passages, and not all require shade trees; some replace the canopy effect with suspended fabrics, galleries, or portals; others establish the visual interest with creative signs and artwork or palms or flowers instead of shade trees. With or without trees, we also take care to keep clear lines of sight to signage and storefronts on mercantile streets. In Street Design, we also wrote about the usefulness of what Raymond Unwin called the “lean-in” tree, planted in the adjacent garden instead of within the right-of-way.

As with every other detail in city design, context is crucial.

Standard equipment for great cities

When they’re right, they’re right, which is most of the time—so street trees are not just a decorative frill, something to be cut when the budget’s tight. They’re mission-critical equipment in making good, resilient cities and towns, and that’s why they’re number ten on my list of Town Planning Stuff Everyone Needs to Know.

For more information, check out my TEDx talk (it’s a love poem to street trees), and read what John Massengale and I wrote about “The Seven Roles of the Urban Street Tree” in Street Design: The Secret to Great Cities and Towns, or read Henry Arnold’s classic, Trees in Urban Design.   --Victor

Episode 10 of Town Planning Stuff Everyone Needs to Know is all about street trees. This episode is illustrated with photos, diagrams and video from Yellow Springs, Ohio; Rochester, Buffalo, Brooklyn and Manhattan, New York; Barcelona, Spain; Washington, DC; Guilin, China; Stockholm, Sweden; Chattanooga, Tennessee; Paris, France; Greenville, SC; and Miami, South Miami, Coral Gables, Lake Wales, and Winter Park, Florida. Next episode: Street-Oriented Architecture.

Pont Street, London

Walkable Street Design: 5 Must-Haves (TPS Ep. 9)

People first

The latest episode of Town Planning Stuff Everyone Needs to Know is about street design. That’s because all successful towns are walkable, and design is the key to that. Design for pedestrian safety and happiness simply can’t be an afterthought, merely considered—if at all—only after all the automobile-related decisions are already made.

Bologna, Winter Park, and Rome

“Walkability,” in this context, is really a stand-in word for pedestrian friendliness and bike-friendliness and accessibility for all, including folks in wheelchairs or with other mobility challenges. Walkable streets don’t just technically allow for people outside cars, they’re welcoming, attractive, less stressful, and livable. A perfunctory sidewalk right next to whizzing cars or a faded painted stripe indicating a bike lane are definitely not enough.

Main Street, Galena IL

Main Street and its environs, Galena IL

Design is indispensable

We should start with walkability as an essential baseline, and then work our way out to all the other considerations like truck access, parking and the like. That’s because the best streets are more than mere transportation corridors—and more than just functionally walkable rights-of-way. When their designs are artful, these streets become unique addresses, places where people especially want to be. Streets need what Steve Mouzon calls “walk appeal” in order to inspire citizens, ignite commerce, and attract real estate investment. Eminent urbanist Allan Jacobs, who inspired generations with his book Great Streets, pointed out that some thoroughfares can even mature into the ranks of what he termed the “great world streets,” distinctive landmarks that endure and set their cities apart from their peers.

Good or great, streets come in many sizes and designs. Immense variety is possible. Upcoming episodes of Town Planning Stuff describe the eleven fundamental street types, and as we’ll show, there are many, many variations on each.

Commonwealth Avenue, Boston. C. Podstawski photo

Five basic features

While there are many options in street design, we find there are a few must-have features always present in people-first streets. These features dependably draw people—and these are features your elected officials can demand in your town. That demand usually has to come from both the grassroots and from the top. As former longtime Charleston mayor Joseph Riley has said, “The mayor is the chief urban designer of the city.”

Rue St. Jean, Quebec: Shaped, comfortable, connected, safe, memorable

First, good streets are shaped. The street space is given a designed form, like an outdoor public room, with the roadway and sidewalk its floor, the buildings its walls, and, sometimes, its ceiling formed by the tree canopy.

Second, they’re comfortable. In most climates that means shaded in the summer. Street trees, and architectural elements like porches, arcades and awnings, moderate the elements.

Rue St. Jean in the evening

Third, they’re connected. They lead somewhere. The streets that feel like what Kaid Benfield calls “people habitat” are usually hooked into the larger network, linked to the rest of the town.

Next, they’re safe. That means you aren’t stressed out about getting run over by a vehicle, because motoring speed is slower by design. You’re also safer if you have what Jane Jacobs called “eyes on the street.” The safe street isn’t faced by blank walls, but by doors and windows and porches and balconies and storefronts.

Lastly, the streets where people really like to be are memorable. They make lasting impressions because beauty surrounds us and human creativity is on display, in architecture and art and signs and landscape design. An artful spatial design, with composed vistas, ratchets up these powerful impressions.

“Umbrella Sky” on Giralda Street, Coral Gables

Walkable street design: It’s #9 on my list of Town Planning Stuff Everyone Needs to Know. For more information, subscribe to the Dover Kohl YouTube channel, or read the book John Massengale and I co-wrote, Street Design: The Secret to Great Cities and Towns.     --Victor

To illustrate many of the ideas in Episode 9, we used downtown West Palm Beach's premier street, Clematis Street. Here’s a closer look at our design for its reconstruction: Safe, Slow, Curbless, Shaded, Adaptable.