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The search "revitalization" yielded
228 articles

Passing the bar exam with flying colors.

Whenever we encounter an odd pairing—anything, really—it’s hard not to ponder how the members of the unlikely duo found one another. The way they engage the senses, or maybe just one sense, is unexpectedly symbiotic. Like when the zing from spicy Buffalo wings gets muted by the buttermilk in blue cheese dressing, usually abetted by

A traveler’s guide to the penitentiary.

Along any stretch of highway, it’s easy to imagine feeling at least a little unsettled if you drive past this sign:This is exactly what one encounters heading northward along I-75 in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, about 20 miles south of Sioux Sainte Marie and the Canadian border. In most respects, it’s a notice we all can

A colorful patch on a faded pair of slacks.

At a primary intersection in the weather-beaten downtown of Pawtucket, Rhode Island, I came across this little row of storefronts.Truth be told, the photo is deceptive. I positioned the camera so that the street rests in the center, only to conceal what is going on at the periphery.   Perhaps the reader/viewer can already tell, but

Hustling all the antiques under one roof.  

Even metros with the most resilient of economies couldn’t salvage many of their historic buildings downtown during the 1970s, the virtually undisputed nadir of urban America. The imbroglio facing most cities wasn’t just a lack of investment—there simply wasn’t even any psychological interest. (Not surprisingly, “interest” and “investment” go hand in hand…in more ways than

Sudsy strategies.

By now, it’s not just something for Portland to be smug about. Nearly everywhere in America—urban centers, suburbs, college towns, sometimes even rural hamlets—seems capable of supporting a craft brewery. Not only have the numbers of breweries and the often family-friendly brewpubs increased precipitously in the last five years, but the market share for craft

Preventing an Elm Street nightmare.

It’s a trend one encounters all across the country, in large towns or small cities, of varying degrees of economic health. Almost instinctively, we know when we’re there—in the oldest part of town, usually co-located with the downtown. For the most part, it’s hard not to miss the central business district, which often amounts to

Dethroning the top brass.

When it first opened in 1997, local and regional media acclaimed the Brass Mill Center of Waterbury, Connecticut for transforming a long-blighted, desolate, contaminated old industrial site. And, considering that the retail hub replaced an expansive collection of derelict buildings visible along Interstate 84, it probably improved Waterbury’s image not just to its natives but

After a national chain is toast, who picks up the crumbs?

When a recognizable meme gets untethered from its usual habitat—its preferred social and cultural context—it’s amazing how quickly people forget what it was intended to signify. That’s exactly the case with this neon sign in a downtown storefront window: Does it ring a bell? Probably not at first blush. But look at the general shape

Dusting off the Wurlitzers, Part I: Organ Transplants.

My latest article, featured in The Huffington Post, doesn’t really fit with the vein of American Dirt, but it won’t be foreign to those who follow me closely, particularly in regards to coverage of the culture of pipe organs.  In contrast with an article series on classical organs from a few months ago, this time around, I’m looking

Passing the bar exam with flying colors.

Whenever we encounter an odd pairing—anything, really—it’s hard not to ponder how the members of the unlikely duo found one another. The way they engage the senses, or maybe just one sense, is

A traveler’s guide to the penitentiary.

Along any stretch of highway, it’s easy to imagine feeling at least a little unsettled if you drive past this sign:This is exactly what one encounters heading northward along I-75 in Michigan’s Upper

A colorful patch on a faded pair of slacks.

At a primary intersection in the weather-beaten downtown of Pawtucket, Rhode Island, I came across this little row of storefronts.Truth be told, the photo is deceptive. I positioned the camera so that the

Hustling all the antiques under one roof.  

Even metros with the most resilient of economies couldn’t salvage many of their historic buildings downtown during the 1970s, the virtually undisputed nadir of urban America. The imbroglio facing most cities wasn’t just

Sudsy strategies.

By now, it’s not just something for Portland to be smug about. Nearly everywhere in America—urban centers, suburbs, college towns, sometimes even rural hamlets—seems capable of supporting a craft brewery. Not only have

Preventing an Elm Street nightmare.

It’s a trend one encounters all across the country, in large towns or small cities, of varying degrees of economic health. Almost instinctively, we know when we’re there—in the oldest part of town,

Dethroning the top brass.

When it first opened in 1997, local and regional media acclaimed the Brass Mill Center of Waterbury, Connecticut for transforming a long-blighted, desolate, contaminated old industrial site. And, considering that the retail hub

After a national chain is toast, who picks up the crumbs?

When a recognizable meme gets untethered from its usual habitat—its preferred social and cultural context—it’s amazing how quickly people forget what it was intended to signify. That’s exactly the case with this neon

Dusting off the Wurlitzers, Part I: Organ Transplants.

My latest article, featured in The Huffington Post, doesn’t really fit with the vein of American Dirt, but it won’t be foreign to those who follow me closely, particularly in regards to coverage of the culture