Filling the Void on Howard Street Baltimore

A Study of Emptiness and Finding Purpose Along Baltimore City’s Historic Corridor

Once a vibrant and busy destination, Howard Street now functions simply as a means for passage through, into, and out of Baltimore City. By intimately studying the blocks between Fayette and Monument Streets, one might catch brief glimpses of the lively street that once was. Most of what’s left standing today, however, tells a rather unfortunate story of a neglected and forgotten corridor. Borrowing from the processes outlined by urban theorists before me, I have used various systems to evaluate the physical form as well as the expressive essence of Howard Street. From such vigorous analyses, I have identified a combination of grounds for explanation as to why the corridor is, or is not, functioning in its current form.

As a Baltimore County resident, I often use the light rail line to travel into the city. As it enters Baltimore’s central neighborhoods, the light rail settles into the Howard Street right-of-way. In my years of riding, I have developed a sort of fondness for one stop in particular. At the corner of Howard Street and Centre street, the light rail drops its passengers off a few blocks west of Mount Vernon, just south of the Cultural Center, one stop north of Lexington Market, and nearby to downtown Baltimore. Yet it was never because of this stop’s close proximity to such amenities that drew me in; it was likely more about the adjacent park, or perhaps the fact that this particular light rail stop always had a sense of stillness to it, that I took the opportunity to step off the train. From the intersection at Monument Street, just north of the Centre Street light rail stop, down to the next light rail stop on the 100 block at Fayette, Howard Street has a very distinct character. My study of the corridor encompasses these six blocks, with heavy focus on the three northernmost blocks from Mulberry to Monument. Systems of evaluation- such as Kevin Lynch’s visual mapping; Emily Talen’s approach to transect classification; the Venturi and Scott Brown system of signs and symbols; and indeed Anne Whiston Spirn’s study of nature within the city- shall provide an opportunity to peel back the layers of the city to reveal the fundamental nature of Howard Street.

An Area of Historical Relevance

Howard Street, Looking North at Lexington; Photo Credit: Baltimore County Public Library Legacy Web

The light rail line, providing access to and from the county, makes Howard Street a significant transportation corridor. Combined with the Saratoga Street Metro Station, Howard Street is the link between Baltimore City and the larger Baltimore Metropolitan Region. To many, however, Howard Street’s significance lay not in its transportation roles, but in the rich history it possesses. City residents know Howard Street for the stories that have been passed down about its grand department stores and thriving theaters of the 1870s, as well as for the Lexington Market just one block to the west. Howard Street was a destination for city and county residents alike. People from all over would arrive at Howard Street for the stores found there. Meanwhile, the Academy of Music, Stanley Theater, and Natatorium (which would later become the Mayfair Theatre in 1941) were all located just a few blocks north between Franklin and Centre Streets, a block which grew into a major theatrical complex. Here, well known actors and actresses performed, such as Katharine Hepburn, who began her career in the Natatorium (Gunts 1993). The Natatorium was transformed into Kernan’s Howard Street Auditorium after a man named James Lawrence Kernan bought the property in the 1890s. Mr. Kernan not only operated the theater, but owned an additional building on the block which functioned as the Congress Hotel. This block became known as Kernan’s Corner.

The department stores and theaters have since shut down; only the Market continues to operate today (at 230 years old, it is the longest running market in the world), but fading signage lingers as a reminder of what once was. The evolution, or perhaps decline, happened slowly throughout the twentieth century as the corridor was altered little by little. In the 1930s, even amidst the Great Depression, Howard street was still a robust, and vibrant destination. Howard Street at Lexington was, at the time, a major intersection and in 1934, Read’s Drug Store was constructed on the southeast corner. Twenty-one years later, in 1955, Read’s would be the site of an early sit-in of the civil rights movement, which has since given Howard Street profound social significance.[1] Five years before the well known Greensboro sit-in, a group of Morgan State University students made a powerful statement when they organized a successful protest at the Read’s Drug Store lunch counter (Pousson 2011).

Read's Drug Store on Howard Street; Photo Source: Baltimore Heritage Website

While Howard Street was doing well during these years so, too, was the automobile which made traveling outside the city an efficient alternative. With this convenience, the new shopping malls were able to flourish. As more and more city residents traveled to the outskirts of Baltimore to shop in these new malls, Howard Street became less and less relevant, yet managed to remain economically stable. In 1942, the Greyhound Bus Terminal was built at Howard and Centre Street (Vandervoort n.d.). Howard Street was to be enhanced by a new bus route, a future that was never realized. This building still stands today and is part of the Maryland Historical Society’s campus. The Maryland Transit Administration entered the picture in the 1980s with the introduction of the light rail line. Although it provided an inexpensive means for residents to travel within and around the city, there has been a general consensus that the transportation “improvements” of the light rail have been the main cause of Howard Street’s demise.

The Remaining Architecture

The booming activity of old Howard Street may be gone, but the physical form remains. Many of the buildings which directly front the street retain architectural details that can so rarely be found on buildings constructed after the 19^th century. Sadly, behind these magnificent facades, the buildings crumble in disrepair. Like the Mayfair, whose roof collapsed in the 1990s, these buildings sit as abandoned shells, waiting for the next tenant to come along and embrace their history; but it’s been years since anyone’s seemed interested. While people have all but forgotten, nature has slowly begun the process of reclaiming the land upon which these buildings sit. A future similar to the one explored by author Alan Weisman in his book, The World Without Us, is developing before our eyes. As human activity continues to neglect the few blocks surrounding Kernan’s Corner, nature- as I’ll soon explain- finds new ways to make its presence known. 

 Methodology for Deeper Appreciation

Although I have been to Howard Street many times before, I had never delved so deeply into its story as I did upon my initial study visit. During this trip, I utilized photo documentation and visual mapping techniques, in conjunction with notations of any emotions felt along the way, to document the corridor. The goal was to be truly within Howard Street’s fabric as opposed to just passing through it, as too many people often do. Traveling a total of ten blocks between Martin Luther King Boulevard and Baltimore Street, I made a point to patronize local establishments and talk to any willing passerby. The subsequent visit entailed a much more elaborate process of evaluation, which proved to illustrate very interesting results.

A Collection of Urban Study Methodologies

Equipped with map and pen, I explored Howard Street through Kevin Lynch’s system of spatial mapping. Recognizing key nodes along the corridor proved simple, as there were very clearly defined areas of activity- often around the light rail stops, and certainly around Lexington Market. Landmarks were difficult to distinguish as very few literal monuments exist. Instead, identifiable and recognizable buildings- such as the Market, Hutzler’s department store, Read’s Drug Store, and the Greyhound Terminal- served to orient me along the way. Barriers were abundant due to the excessive presence of fences near Kernan’s Corner, as well as vast sections of unusable space formed by entire blocks of vacant buildings. An obvious north-south pathway was facilitated by the movement of the light rail train (although automobile traffic on Howard was minor), and certain cross streets had notably heavier traffic flows than others in the east-west directions. During my visit, I made quick notations of the presence of people and the coinciding activities along the way. The portion of Howard Street closest to Lexington Market was the most active, while my observation of population was lowest near Kernan’s Corner, where most of the vacant buildings are situated. Beginning with the most active section at the Lexington cross street and moving north towards Monument, the density of Howard Street gradually shifts downward. This transition seems to exemplify Emily Talen’s system of transect zones, if only as micro-transects of the ‘urban center transect’ classification. From the larger, high-rise structures between Fayette and Lexington all the way up to the three to four story buildings by Monument Street, the corridor transitions from a highly active district to a vacant and abandoned section of blocks. Although merely an observation, the identification of these conditions may prove useful when considering the future of Howard Street.

Very little that exists on Howard Street is consistent from Monument to Fayette. Street art, however, is surprisingly abundant along the entire stretch. These images carry heavy messages, which make them particularly intriguing. As I was studying one of the first pieces I encountered, I paused photographing so as to greet a passerby. The man said hello, continued walking to the opposite end of the block, then reversed course with extreme purpose. He marched back to where I stood to ask me why I would photograph this image which he didn’t find to be especially alluring. I’m very glad he decided to speak with me, for our long discussion of art proved quite enjoyable and as testimony of art’s power to bring strangers together. Art, much like the iconography and symbols discussed by Robert Venturi, Denise Scott Brown, and Steven Izenour, punctuates the public space of the corridor as a response to the everyday life of the city. As Venturi, Scott Brown and Izenour had done with the signage and graphic elements of the Las Vegas strip, I photographed and cataloged the street art and faded iconography along Howard Street. Plywood covered storefronts proved to be the most inviting canvases for street art, as the highest percentage of art was found on the blocks with the most vacant buildings. Whether it altered the environment for better or worse seems to be a matter of personal preference, as I noted from my conversation with the passerby, but its presence is certainly noticed.

 A most exciting study of Howard Street came from my consideration of nature in the city. My evaluation was based on Anne Whiston Spirn’s belief that nature helps to determine how meaningful a place may be. In my investigation, I paid particular attention to nature as it specifically pertains to plant life. When observing an open space inventory of Baltimore City as a whole, patches of green speckle the map save for the area within which Howard Street rests (Baltimore 2010). The only green spaces along this portion of the road are Howard’s Park, directly across from the old Greyhound Terminal[2]. Outside of Howard’s Park, nature has been left to fend for itself. Where street trees once stood, empty wells mark the  graves of fallen allies. These empty tree wells have sometimes been filled with asphalt, as if to ensure anything that lives can never grow there again. Occasionally, perhaps in an attempt to conceal this atrocious behavior, flower pots have been set on top of these asphalt-filled, empty tree wells. My investigation included counting the total number of tree wells on each block, and how many of them were actually filled with street trees. I discovered that the blocks with the most vacant buildings were also those with the fewest occupied tree wells. I determined that 17% of the tree wells on the 400 block from Franklin to Mulberry were empty, and an astonishing 62% of the tree wells between Mulberry and Saratoga were barren. In addition to street trees (or lack thereof), I identified any instance where nature proved more resourceful than humans had accounted for. It is not the property-owners of the northern blocks that have claimed ownership of the land, it’s the land itself that has declared possession. In these warm March days, hearty and verdant weeds have already begun to seep from the cracks in the pavement. Even the asphalt filled wells couldn’t keep nature from persevering: mature trees had found their way into abandoned buildings and now escape through gaps in the boarded-up windows and out onto rooftops. The six blocks between Monument and Fayette Streets account for a total length of approximately 2,513 feet. Along this stretch of Howard Street, there is an average of about one tree for every 40 feet. Not nearly enough, in my personal opinion. 

Other systems of observation were less fruitful. The study area lacked many of the layers that would define any of the elements architect Christopher Alexander might identify as terminology of a pattern language. Certainly this lack of patterns, however, contributes to the area’s absent vitality. Hierarchy of spaces can be experienced close to the Market, but on the northern blocks the space is void. As I review my findings from the various systems of evaluation, I find reinforcement of the intuitive perception that it is the absence of a number of systems which make certain environments less productive.

 A Strange Sense of Place

Oddly enough, however, the total absence of layers is also what contributes to the haven-like atmosphere of the northern blocks. The two blocks between Mulberry and Centre lack nearly all layers of environmental character, including people. Deserted spaces in cities usually connote an unsafe territory, yet these blocks have just the right amount of people riding by on the light rail and walking past on their trips to the area’s various attractions that the blocks offer safe solitude for any urbanite in search of refuge. How peculiar it is to be in a dense urban setting without all the commotion of frenzied city life!?

Future Study and Final Thoughts

The element of life, both human and natural, is an important assessment of a location’s well being. Had I more time to study this portion of Howard Street, I would take a cyclical approach. I would consider changes of the natural seasons and note how they may or may not shape the level of pedestrian activity. Such an analysis should be continued for a span of many years, and should be critical of the ways in which human behavior is altered by any changes in environment. There is also potential for more normative, detailed statistical research on the tree canopy of the area and about the life stages of the trees on each block. This data could be compared with that of Baltimore City as a whole. By further developing a study of life as it exists on Howard Street, overlays of information illustrate an urban environments success and failure.

Today, Howard Street struggles, yet it works. It works as an exhibit of sorts through which someone might stroll to discover something new about their city, or themselves. The unfortunate truth, however, is that although these crumbling facades paint a picture of the exciting corridor that Howard Street had once been, their symptoms of disrepair also warn of a disastrous future.

 

Bibliography

Baltimore, Downtown Partnership of. "Downtown Open Space Plan." Baltimore, MD, 2010.

Bejgrowicz, Tom. "Tom B Photography." Blogspot. May 31, 2009. http://tombphotography.blogspot.com/2009/05/mayfair-theater-i-balt.html (accessed March 9, 2012).

Gunts, Edward. "Mayfair Could Anchor 'Avenue of the Arts'." The Baltimore Sun. November 4, 1993. http://articles.baltimoresun.com/1993-11-04/news/1993308101_1_mayfair-center-for-theater-towson (accessed March 9, 2012).

Pousson, Eli. "Why the West Side Matters: Read’s Drug Store and Baltimore’s Civil Rights Heritage." Baltimore Heritage. January 7, 2011. http://www.baltimoreheritage.org/2011/01/why-the-west-side-matters-reads-drug-store-and-baltimores-civil-rights-heritage/ (accessed March 9, 2012).

Vandervoort, Bill. Classic Bus Stations. http://web.me.com/willvdv/chirailfan/greystne.html (accessed March 9, 2012).

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[1] A majority of this information has been gathered from personal discussions and general inquiries. Further research is required for verification.

[2] The study also identifies the Metro Station plaza as open space on the map, although this hardly accounts for any green space.

The above text is from a written report describing the conditions along Howard Street, Baltimore through use of the methods proposed by various urban theorists. It was an assignment from an Urban Design Studio course in Morgan State University's City and Regional Planning Graduate program.

Roland Park: A National Model

In north Baltimore, there lies a community of well designed homes guarded by the spirits of old trees. Nearby the hustle and bustle of the crowded harbor, it's a literal breath of fresh air. There are many who call this area home, and home it has been for over 100 years. Roland Park is a residential neighborhood that was built in Baltimore at the end of the 19th century. An area of natural beauty made accessible by rail, Roland Park became a place of carefully planned, gently-curving streets; a collection of single family homes sited wisely on large lots of land; and grand expressions of civic beauty. The elements of Roland Park's design can clearly be related to important historical planning movements- the Urban Parks, Garden City, and City Beautiful movements of the 19th century- as well as to movements happening today, such as the New Urbanism.

In 1890, William Edmunds, president of the Baltimore newspaper, Manufacturer's Record, owned land just north of what was then the Baltimore City boundary. At this time, Baltimore was already a busy and congested city. The charter for the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad six decades prior had made Baltimore a major shipping and manufacturing center in the country. Like many other cities at the turn of the century, Baltimore had a plethora of harrowing conditions. As people were moving into cities in decades past, hoping to find economic opportunities, those who could now afford it were leaving the cities to seek residence away from the factories and filth of the central city districts. With the extension of rail lines, the land Edmunds owned would be a daily escape that had previously only existed for the wealthy owners of summer and weekend cottages. He was hoping to subdivide and develop 100 acres of this land and came across the opportunity through a man by the name of Charles Grastly. Having recently moved to Baltimore from Kansas City, MO, Grastly met Edmunds through his position as editor of the Baltimore Evening News. Grastly had connections back in Kansas City that could start the development of Edmund's land. The Jarvis-Conklin Mortgage Trust Company, with which Grastly had previous land speculation experience, financed the project along with an investment from an English business syndicate. To start off the development, Jarvis and Conklin selected Edward Bouton as general manager and appointed George E. Kessler to the position of lead architect; and so the Roland Park- Kansas City link was established. In Baltimore, these men formed the Roland Park Company and the development of Roland Park, named after Roland Thornberry, a Baltimore County landowner, had commenced that same year (Lewand, 1).

Falls Turnpike, known today as Falls road, was lengthened and renovated in 1805 after the Falls Turnpike Charter was approved. A year later, Coldspring Lane was created. Together, these two thoroughfares made the area of today's Roland Park accessible where the hilly terrain had previously kept it from being so. In 1890, the development began with Plat 1, the area extending just north of Coldspring Lane and to the east of Roland Ave. This section of Roland Park was designed by the Jarvis and Conklin chosen architect, George Kessler. Before studying in Germany, Kessler spent some time in the 1880s training under the well-known landscape designer, Frederick Law Olmsted. Kessler had a bit of Olmsted's landscape intuition, and in Roland Park's design was able to "blend the curvilinear and the formal in the same parkway without breaking its continuity" (Wilson, 108). Together with Bouton's strong emphasis on preserving the existing scenery, Kessler's plans created a revolutionary new lifestyle. This lifestyle went hand in hand with the growing consensus that by living near parks, people would become healthier and happier. In Roland Park, however, residents didn't just live near a park, they could live in the park.

Club Road; Picturesque and curving

As a reaction to the unsanitary conditions growing in cities during the early 19th century, figures like Frederick Law Olmsted stressed the need for sunlight and open air, arguing that natural spaces gave city residents opportunities for leisure as well as a release from the filth of city life. This idea was the fuel behind what became the Urban Parks Movement. At the beginning of Roland Park’s inception, Frederick Law Olmsted was merely an influence, having spent some time training Kessler. It wouldn't be until the development of Plat 2 that Frederick Law Olmsted had more direct control in Roland Park through the hands of his sons, Frederick Law Olmsted, Jr. and John Charles Olmsted. In 1897, when Plat 2 was in the works, Frederick Law Olmsted, Jr. and John Charles, son and stepson respectively, had acquired Olmsted's practice upon his retirement in 1894. The Olmsted Brothers firm became the leading architect for Roland Park. Though Kessler's designs for Plat 1 were reminiscent of the picturesque quality often found in Olmsted's work, it was still more traditional in its design. The land of Plat 1 was fairly flat and bounded by two parallel, arterial right-of-ways. It did not require "unusually creative site planning," as would the later plats created by the Olmsted Brothers. With the rejection of the city grid system of laying out roadways and its emphasis on natural elements, Roland Park had become a Romantic Suburb, with winding lands and the feeling of being immersed in nature (Messner).Romantic Suburbs were communities planned in picturesque settings. The resembled the landscapes of English Gardens, which had so influenced landscape designers of the time. Romantic Suburbs were harmonious communities, "...a complete environment that fulfilled expectations of a tranquil life, close to nature, with urban comforts" (Jackson, 86).

At the same time that Roland Park was being developed, another planning concept was gaining popularity in Europe. Starting in England, the Garden City movement was introduced by Sir Ebenezer Howard with the publication of his book, Tomorrow: A Peaceful Path to Real Reform. Howard's Garden City idea was one of social progress. Having spent some time in America during the Homestead Act, Howard had been inspired by Olmsted's work (Legates, 309). Upon returning home, Howard was exposed to the ideas of Utopian Socialism. He took the need for parks that had been stressed by Olmsted and added to it the need for social housing. Howard "added a new element to the rights of man- the right to space" (Campbell, 42). He had felt cities were in need of great change. Cities were the cause of our social issues, and the Garden City was the solution. By moving populations of no more than 32,000 people into centralized cores outside of- and separated by green belts from- cities, societal and housing issues could be addressed and corrected.

The Garden City, Howard explained, would be a self-sufficient community, economically independent from other cities. Howard gathered his idea from the comparison of country life to town life. The country was expansive and beautiful. It was, he felt, created by a higher power. The shortcoming of the country was that it was too rural. Living in the country was inconvenient in an age of rising technology. The town, on the other hand, was the symbol of society. Yet society, as we know, had many issues. Howard saw more than just these two alternatives; he saw a combination of the two, the Town-Country. "Town and Country must be married, and out of this joyous union will spring a new hope, a new life, a new civilization"(Howard). Roland Park was a great example of this union: each home was surrounded by nature while everything the city had to offer was a mere 20 minute train ride away.

Roland Park's shortcoming, in terms of these ideals, was that it lacked some of the better amenities the town had to offer. Residents still had to travel into the city quite often for work and often for large purchases. In fact, residents needed to do so. Bouton permitted, "only those businesses which are necessary for the comfort of our residents"(Master Plan). Though a few shops and amenities were available within Roland Park, most needs would have provoked a train ride to one of Baltimore's central business districts, such as the one along Howard Street. Also in Howard's Garden City, there would be opportunities for leisure; but the residents of these "houses in a park," unlike those in the Romantic Suburbs, did not individually own the green space out their front door. This land, instead, belonged to the community, with a Garden City Company as the sole landlord. Some similarities can be drawn between Roland Park Company and Howard's idea for a Garden City Company, such as the strict covenant they both transcribed, but it was not quite the same.

Shopping opportunities in and adjacent to Roland Park

Quite an important concept of the movement, Howard's Garden City would be a place for everyone. This was far from the truth in Roland Park. Sadly, "the suburban world of leisure, family life, and union with nature was based on the principle of exclusion"(Fishman, 4). With the strict and legally mandatory covenant introduced by Bouton and the Roland Park Company, Roland Park legally excluded many groups of people. In 1910, residents were required to sign the covenant, which excluded African Americans. In that same year, department stores were segregated and racial tensions were most extreme. Three years later, Jewish residents were also barred. Unfortunately, Roland Park had set an example and many other Baltimore neighborhoods would soon follow this model. But it was not only the covenant that kept out certain people; the houses generally had a minimum value, making them unaffordable for some (Ames). This requirement, in addition to the fact that the cost of commuting by rail, though not entirely unmanageable, meant living in Roland Park was too expensive of a lifestyle for most members of the working class. This lifestyle became an expression of the upper class. With the establishment of the Baltimore Country Club in 1898, this separation of classes was exaggerated even more.

The Garden City movement had made its way back across the Atlantic to America, but it wasn't until a few decades later. By the 1900s, Roland Park was well underway, and so it's not very likely the movement had much influence on Roland Park's designs. One thing, however, can be said of Roland Park and the Garden City Movement: it is alike other Garden City developments in that nearly all Garden City endeavors failed to meet the principles outlined by Howard. Most attempts at Garden City design are better classified as Garden Suburbs, rather than Garden Cities. These places were still almost wholly dependent on nearby cities; they were not as large as Howard's Garden City populated by 30,000; in fact, they were quite the exact opposite of what Howard prescribed for his Garden Cities. It's hard to ignore the patterns of certain blocks in Roland Park and how they resemble these sorts of derivatives of Howard's concept. It may perhaps be coincidental and not at all because of direct influence, but the designs of areas like Merryman's Court and Ridgewood Corner, in Plats 5 and 2, are surprisingly comparable to developments like Hampstead Garden Suburb, the first Garden Suburb. In these two parts of Roland Park, a grouping of houses are set facing a common green area, a frequent element used in Garden Cities. Even the architectural styles are evocative of the English vernacular architecture used in Hampstead and other Garden Suburbs. In regards to its social intentions, the Garden City movement cannot be clearly seen in Roland Park. The common Garden Suburb, however, and Roland Park can be equated.

Just three years after the members of the Roland Park Company had come together, something grand was happing in the Midwest. In 1893, The World's Columbian Exposition had opened in Chicago. The Expo is best known for its impressive architecture, emphasis on civic design, and the Beaux Arts value of joining disciplines- art, architecture, sculpture, landscape design- in the city development process. These principles became a part of the City Beautiful Movement. The resulting designs expressed grand, neoclassical architecture; civic monuments; and the establishment of cultural institutions. The influence of the City Beautiful Movement is more obvious in the cultural buildings of Roland Park, such as the Enoch Pratt library, the municipal water tower, and St. Mary's Seminary- the last of these three being perhaps the best example of City Beautiful architecture, and one of Baltimore's most recognizable landmarks today. The homes along Goodwood Gardens, West of Roland Park, a street once referred to as "Millionaire's Row," are also great examples of this movement. Their designs are grand explorations in residential architecture. For the most part, however, Roland Park residences were humble, yet sophisticated structures rather than an exploration of the City Beautiful.

Similarities between a Garden City and Roland Park

In 1940, the rail line was removed from Roland Avenue as the automobile had become the frontrunner in intra-city travel. Eight years later, the Supreme Court ruled that the restrictive covenant which restricted African Americans and Jews from living in Roland Park was illegal. Roland Park has gone through some changes, but for the most part remains unchanged. Many original trees still remain, and ones planted by Bouton have since grown. It's likely Roland Park wouldn't look anything like this today if it weren't for the strict covenants and careful planning that went into its design. And it is precisely that planning that has given Roland Park the status it holds today as one of the earliest planned communities that happens to be home to the nation's first shopping center. It has been a model and leader for many communities to follow. As we've seen with the racially barring covenant, that hasn't always been proven a good thing. However, Roland Park had been inspiration for communities across the country and remains so today. With modern-day planning movements, it is a reference. The narrow paths set behind houses serve as service lanes where the unattractive necessities of single family living (trash pick-up, electrical wiring, and automobile parking) can take place. This is a practice that the New Urbanists currently promote in their Traditional Neighborhood Developments.

Garage access via service lane

Whether for good or for ill, Roland Park has always been of an exemplary design. It was a learning process from the beginning, and we have certainly gained the issues it met and how they were overcome. A model community of various planning movements, the neighborhood has received recognition many times over. Now, holding national status, this old neighborhood in Baltimore continues to mature and grows ever more romantic, garden-like, and beautiful.

Bibliography:

Ames, David L., and Linda F. McClelland. "National Register Bureau Suburbs Part 2: Historic Residential Suburbs: Guidelines for Evaluation and Documentation for the National Register of Historic Places." U.S. National Park Service - Experience Your America. National Register Publications, 2002. Web. 10 Oct.

Campbell, Scott, and Susan S. Fainstein. Readings in Planning Theory. Malden, MA: Blackwell, 2003.

Howard, Ebenezer. To-morrow: A Peaceful Path to Real Reform.

Jackson, Kenneth T. Crabgrass Frontier: the Suburbanization of the United States. New York: Oxford UP, 1985.

LeGates, Richard T., and Frederic Stout. The City Reader. London: Routledge, 2007.

Lewand, Karen. North Baltimore, from Estate to Development. Ed. D. Randall. Beirne. Baltimore, MD: Prepared by Baltimore City Department of Planning and the University of Baltimore, 1989.

Messner, Rebecca. "Olmsted's Shortcuts | General Home & Design." Urbanite Baltimore Magazine. 1 July 2011. Web. 14 Sept. 2011.

Roland Park Civic League. Greater Roland Park Master Plan. Baltimore, 2010. Print.

Wilson, William H. The City Beautiful Movement. Johns Hopkins University Press. Baltimore, MD, 1989. 

The above text and presentation images are from a report studying an historic Baltimore City project [my chosen project being the planned community of Roland Park] as its creation and development relate to planning movements. It is the resulting coursework of an History of City and Regional Planning seminar in Morgan State University's City and Regional Planning Graduate Program.