If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I’d like to do is pack it up and ship it off, priority mail, to the Pittsburgh History & Landmarks Foundation.
These are the people who do everything they possibly can to prevent razing while raising public awareness about historic preservation. If it’s old and it’s in Pittsburgh, the foundation is probably already cementing plans to revitalize and renew.
Every since I moved here, I have been meaning to hook up with the PH&LF on one of its free guided walking tours. I was rained out of the bridge tour, never could fit in the Oakland tour, missed the Cultural District tour. The foundation only offers such tours in the summer, so I knew I had to step lively. And step lively soon.
And so on a warm weekend afternoon, I joined former teacher-turned-PH&LF-docent Gabe Funaro for a Fifth and Forbes walking tour, given every Friday in September. I should have suspected that I was in very good hands with anyone whose last name blatantly promises “Fun.”
We met at the clock in Market Square, with Gabe’s wife, Karen, joining us. Before we began the official tour, while her husband was prattling on about one-way streets and places and plazas named PNC and Piatt, while he was chattering about future green buildings and luxury hotels and condos and apartments and other real estate ventures, while he was bemoaning the loss of the Jenny Lee Bakery and praising the French fry-ladened sandwiches at Primanti Bros., Karen turned to me and said, “Gabe talks a lot.”
Ah, but he also knows a lot. Gabe also likes to (briefly, but frequently) take his guests off the “official” route map, showing off the lobby of this building or the storefront of that one. He stops often, sometimes abruptly, juggling his notepad and pile of laminated photos while pointing out names and dates on buildings. All the sights of this small section of Downtown are carefully detailed and dissected by this Man Who Knows All, who constantly serves up amusing anecdotes, some pulled from the words typed on the paper in his hands, some from his mind.
They say history repeats itself, and this is the man who relishes every burp. Gabe describes the differences between Corinthian columns and Ionic pilasters, the intrinsic values of limestone versus buff brick facades, with the zest and zeal usually reserved for the bragging rights of first grandchildren. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Art Deco, Neo-Classical, Art Noveau, and Arts and Crafts were the names of those kids.
In a way, Gabe wants it to be the Way It Once Was. We pass so many buildings that are mere shadows of their former lives, some fading fast, some fighting back. I spot the letter “D” above the second-floor windows of CVS and Gabe tells me it harks back to the once-glory days of Donahoe’s Market and Cafeteria. I see the delicate ornamental front of the elegant former Roberts and Company jewelry store, then take a big gulp when I see the canopy of 7-Eleven. I think of Norma Desmond, once elegant and proud, now past sunset, somewhat scuffed and scarred.
Gabe remained silent long enough for me to hear the ghosts of the burlesque stars who hung out at the Wheel Cafe, now the Courthouse Tavern.
We stop in front of 236 Fifth Ave., the former office of Henry Clay Frick. It was here, back in July 1892, that anarchist Alexander Berkman attempted to assassinate Frick because of his union-busting tactics. Frick survived the shots and stabbings — rumor has it that despite his wounds and loss of blood, Frick finished his hard day’s work.
We stop at 239-241 Forbes Ave., in front of the “Skinny Building” — at 6 feet in depth, it’s undoubtedly the shallowest building in Pittsburgh.
Gabe tells me it’s as deep “as a closet.” And just as dark.
I think of Frick and Blaze Starr and all the other spirits and stories (and skeletons) behind the stones, the wonders lurking beneath the wood.
They’re all here, in town. Allow the Pittsburgh History & Landmarks Foundation to walk you to them.
