The Absurdity of the Odd Fellows Hall "Preservation"

The Odd Fellows Hall was designed by architect George F. Costersian and constructed in 1891, for the fraternal organization known by the same name. The Independent Order of the Odd Fellows (I.O.O.F.) was truly an oddity in this western Mormon stronghold. The I.O.O.F. was an altruistic fraternal organization derived from similar English Oddfellows service organizations which came into being during the 1700s, at a time when altruistic and charitable acts were far less common, hence the name. Excluding the majority Mormon population, the mainly Protestant and Jewish members of the Utah Order erected their new hall in the emerging non-Mormon sector at the south end of downtown. The Odd Fellows Hall represents one of the few commercial examples of Richardsonian Romanesque architecture remaining in Utah. The Odd Fellows vacated the building some years ago, and it has since served as office and restaurant space for various business enterprises. Most recently it has served as avian refuge for countless downtown pigeons. Situated just off of Salt Lake’s Main Street on Market Street (historically known as Post Office Block), a mid-block avenue between 3rd and 4th South Streets in the downtown area, the building has undergone relatively few exterior alterations in its 116 year history. The interior unfortunately was entirely gutted and stripped in the early 1980s of its Odd Fellows interiors and replaced with conventional office improvements. The original cast iron columns are the only remaining feature of the original interior.

The Federal Government’s building division, the General Services Administration (GSA), obtained the Odd Fellows property as part of an eminent domain acquisition of the entire block, and subsequently began planning for a much needed addition to the overburdened Frank E. Moss Federal courthouse located on the same block. The courthouse addition, by a prominent New York based architectural firm, Thomas Phifer and Associates, will imperialize the entire downtown block of this medium-size metropolis, a precondition established early in the design process by the GSA as a response to security and logistical concerns and, therefore, the 10 acre parking block directly to the south across 400 South was deemed inadequate for the needs of a modern Federal Courthouse. The historic Hotel Newhouse which occupied that site until 1983 was imploded for additional parking downtown, a use that persists today.

The new courthouse addition is a likely contemporary glass box and will be a key component to the economic and human vitality of the depressed downtown. Unfortunately, any vestige of the former structures occupying the block will have been completely erased. Early schemes of the westward expansion of the Moss made attempts to incorporate the Odd Fellows Hall in part or whole but these schemes were quickly abandoned for a more unencumbered design. Relocating the Odd Fellows Hall was a compromise reached by the GSA and local preservation groups in exchange for the condemnation and eventual demolition of three additional buildings situated inside the footprint of the planned courthouse addition, one of which regrettably is the 1912 Shubrick Hotel, one of the few remaining historic hotels in Salt Lake. For the last twenty years the Shubrick has housed the highly successful Port O’Call bar and restaurant and has functioned as an unintended gateway element to Salt Lake’s downtown. Sited on the downtown area’s main access to and from Interstate 15 from 400 South, the Shubrick Hotel demarcated southwest corner of the city center. However, as a compromise with the Utah Heritage Foundation, a private foundation dedicated to the preservation of Utah’s historic buildings and landscapes, the Shubrick Hotel was deemed less important given the façade of the Odd Fellows Hall is protected under a preservation easement by the Utah Heritage Foundation. In addition, the building itself was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1977.

The purported preservation of the Odd Fellows Hall comes at a hefty price to the taxpayer, approaching seven million dollars, and will in the end, do little to preserve the existing fabric of the building or necessarily extend the life of the building. Unfortunately, the seven million dollars will simply cover the cost to move the building from point a to point b. It will still be a neglected run down building upon arrival in its new home, or as some have characterized it, its “final resting place.” Built of un-reinforced masonry with an internal structural wood frame with three primary levels including a mezzanine, the building is a virtual seismic tinder box and the structural integrity of the building will have undoubtedly been compromised during the relocation. Cracking and movement in the existing brick masonry walls during the relocation was constantly monitored by the contractor. The few improvements being done as part of the relocation include a seismically robust concrete foundation on which the building will simply rest, a new internal emergency egress stair and some paint. Once the GSA disposes of the property by public auction the responsibility of funding necessary improvements to meet current seismic and safety codes and to render the building habitable will fall to the new owner, an ominous task which will be difficult if not impossible to pencil out in a pro-forma given the downtown real estate is likely worth more than the structure.

The GSA’s purpose in moving the building, outside of reaping the reward of being a showy preservation steward, was simply to clear the site of the nuisance. If this bureaucratic behemoth truly were the preservation steward they so painstakingly have attempted to prove, why not just finish the job and upgrade the building for a viable future use? The GSA’s responsibility with the Odd Fellows Hall ends once the building is moved off site. Little thought or concern will be expended by the GSA after that event. “Preservation steward” suddenly seems an ill fitting moniker. There is little preservation amid a whole lot of fluff. Because of the hefty price tag associated with any lasting restoration of the Odd Fellows Hall and the strict restrictions associated with the façade easement its immediate use seems to be in jeopardy. If Salt Lake City doesn’t immediately condemn the property once it is sold to a new owner, the city will have little more than a home for homeless pigeons, perpetuating its primary function prior to relocation. Unfortunately Salt Lake City has endured more than its fair share of urban invention and reinvention, and given the paucity of the existing historic building fabric, the city has slowly eroded away, with a few oscillating leaves still clinging to the tree. The overall absurdity of the Odd Fellows relocation is proof of the absurdity of the state of preservation. Fully exposed, the relocation is no different than premium demolition resulting from continued urban renewal.

Unfortunately this story is not unique. Countless historic buildings are cleared away to make way for new urban constructions. In some cases, the life of the historic building is extended, but the building itself does not fulfill any useful purpose and over time becomes disused and discarded, in other words simply demolition by neglect. If that occurs then it will all simply be a wasted effort. Communities are too often placated by the mere presence of the historic building and fail to understand the need for viable uses necessary to maintain and preserve its existence, an alliance which is a necessary precursor for unrivaled placemaking in delicate urban areas like Salt Lake’s downtown.

© 2010 Steven D. Cornell