By Joel Warner
By Michael Roberts
By Alan Prendergast
By Michael Roberts
By Michael Roberts
By Amber Taufen
By Patricia Calhoun
By William Breathes
For more photos of the building in jeopardy, go to westword.com/slideshow.
I just watched history being made.
Or at least recognized.
The last time I attended a Landmark Preservation Commission meeting, the commissioners voted to remove the oldest building on my historic block from landmark protection ("The View," May 27, 2008), paving the way for its new owner to wipe an 1888 bungalow off the face of the map and then double, triple her investment by building a massive duplex on the spot, obscuring the view of that historic block from the rest of the city. Now, a year later and many thousand DOW points lower, it seemed unlikely that the commission would suddenly show a spine and spurn a developer willing to do something, anything in downturned Denver. After all, Shea Properties just wanted to demolish two pesky, circa '60s buildings by the architectural firm of Hornbein and White on the old University of Colorado Health Sciences campus, buildings that the commission was now being asked to recommend for landmark designation.
Like the buildings they created, Victor Hornbein and Ed White are landmark figures in this town. In a 1995 interview with National Parks Service historian Rodd Wheaton, Hornbein had listed those two CU structures among his finest accomplishments, along with the Denver Botanic Gardens, Cory Elementary School and the Ross-Broadway Branch Library. As Wheaton said a year later, after Hornbein passed away, the architect "had an innate understanding of the Colorado climate and designed for it. He understood what happened here."
And what keeps happening.
White, who is still living, has already been commemorated as Tim Gray in Jack Kerouac's On the Road. And he not only appears in the book, but he inspired how Kerouac would construct it. Back when he was an architecture student at Columbia University in the '40s, White told Kerouac he should work from word sketches. "I was making sketches, and it occurred to me, because he was always observing things, that it would help if he carried notebooks with him," White explained. When Kerouac visited the young architect in Denver, he found plenty to fill those notebooks.
White himself did much more than sketch buildings. He saved them, too. He was one of the founders of Historic Denver, the private organization started to save what was left of Denver's past after the scrape-it-off '60s. He pushed for historic status for Annex 1, the building whose preservation so influenced the design of the Wellington E. Webb Municipal Building, where the Landmark Preservation Commission meets. And he served on that commission for close to three decades, as his son, Jamie, pointed out when he spoke to the current commissioners on Tuesday.
This fall, when Jamie suddenly discovered that the Hornbein and White-designed John F. Kennedy Childhood Development Center and Children's Psychiatric Day Care Center seemed doomed, he told me that he was thinking of making a last-ditch effort to save his father's legacy. "I thought, I have to step up to the plate — especially considering everything my dad did," he says. "He battled to save so many buildings over the decades." I suggested he contact Michael Paglia, Westword's longtime art critic and a determined champion of urban design (Artbeat, September 17). Under a city ordinance adopted after Shea made its bid to develop the old Health Sciences property into a retail-residential complex, a building can be put forward for landmark consideration after its owners apply for a demolition permit — technically, a "certificate of non-historic," which Shea had done for thirteen buildings, including these two, on September 24. Until that notice appeared, Jamie hadn't realized the buildings might disappear, he says. Working with Wheaton, Paglia prepared White's applications to gain landmark status for the Hornbein and White structures.
Architecture this strong should speak for itself — but it didn't hurt to have two knowledgeable advocates writing the script. Both the Childhood Development Center, constructed in 1968, and the Day Care Center, constructed in 1962, exemplify Frank Lloyd Wright's "Usonian style." In doing so, they clearly have architectural importance — one of the three criteria that the landmark commission must consider under city ordinance. They also meet the second standard, for historical importance, because they were "a manifestation of the growing interest nationally and in Colorado in the field of child mental health during the first two decades of the second half of the 20th century," the applications point out. When Hornbein and White was hired, "a day-care center for mentally ill children was fairly novel," and the architects "attempted to design the building with children in mind and...created an intimate environment with small and inviting spaces." The third key factor, geographic importance, is satisfied by the buildings' prominent placement on Eighth Avenue, making them visual landmarks for the city.
In fact, it's impossible to imagine this town without them. Jim Bershof, the commissioner who was acting as chairman of the group Tuesday, grew up in the neighborhood. "I watched them being built," he recalled.
Fran Mishler, a city staffer assigned to the assess the applications, summarized the action thus far for the commission. On November 19, the Denver Planning Board, which is headed by developer Brad Buchanan, had considered the landmark applications — and recommended against designation for the buildings. But unlike the planning board, Mishler noted, the landmark commission is required to consider only the historic, architectural and geographic significance, "and both meet the criteria in all three categories."