Seattle's Freeway Park, an example of covering an urban freeway with green space. (Photo courtesy of Seattle Parks and Recreation)
Highways are unwelcome, noisy, polluting neighbors to people who live near them. They’re so imposing that it’s hard to imagine making one disappear. But that’s exactly what one town might do. Shawn Allee reports they hope to create some new greenspace in the process:
Transcript
Highways are unwelcome, noisy, polluting neighbors to people who live near them. They’re so imposing that it’s hard to imagine making one disappear. But that’s exactly what one town might do. Shawn Allee reports they hope to create some new greenspace in the process:
Architect Fred Brandstrader and I stand on a bridge above a freeway that runs through Oak Park, IL.
“That sound you’re hearing now, anyone who lives a block on either side of this expressway, it’s like that. There are times when you can’t talk across the street because it’s so loud.”
He ought to know; he lives near the Eisenhower Expressway, or what people call “The Ike.”
What really galls him is how the Ike divided the town in the 1950s.
“First of all, not only do you have the eye sore, but you’ve got all these residents here. You’ve got a school tucked in back there…”
S.A.: “That we can see.”
“Right, that you can see. We’ve got the conservatory right there, and this cuts right through the middle of it.”
And you can’t rid Oak Park, Illinois of this scar without getting rid of the expressway… or can you?
Brandstrader’s with a group that wants to turn a mile and half of open expressway into a tunnel. Supporters want to put sixty acres of park on top. Traffic would move under the new park space. It’s hard to imagine how this highway could disappear.
On the other hand, this was a thriving neighborhood fifty years ago. Some people still remember it that way.
“We’re right on the banks of the lovely Eisenhower expressway, enjoy it.”
S.A.: “You say that with a little bitterness, why is that?”
“Well, because it is my mortal enemy.”
Peggy Studney says, while the Ike was being built, it claimed dozens of her neighbors’ homes.
And she put up with lots of construction.
“And when the pile driver was pounding, the bed would vibrate, and often in the morning you’d have to push your bed back three feet to the wall, where it was to begin with. And that went on for five years.”
Fifty years later, she contends with heavy traffic noise and pollution. But despite all that, she does not support the plan to put a park on top of the Ike. She worries the project will bring back years of construction clatter.
Project supporters face a big obstacle. This would be the longest freeway cover in the nation. The state won’t help, so they’d need federal money, maybe a billion dollars of it.
“That’s a major trend in downtown roadways all over the country.”
Robert Bruegmann teaches architecture, art and urban planning at the University of Illinois at Chicago. Phoenix and Seattle already put parks on top of existing freeways. Bruegmann admits such projects are expensive, but they let cities balance transportation and the need for space.
“The urban freeway, just like the railroad before it, made a big gash into the city necessarily. That’s what happens with all great big infrastructure, and then the city grows back up around it. As the land around it becomes valuable, it becomes very worthwhile to deck them over and create all kinds of amenities, where you had mostly noise and pollution before.”
Back in Oak Park, architect Fred Brandstrader and I walk along a sidewalk near the Ike. Brandstrader explains the state’s planning to rehab the Ike soon. He says that would be the perfect time to deck the expressway. Doing both at the same time will save a lot of money.
Before long, someone interrupts our conversation.
“Peggy?”
Ah, Peggy Studney. I’m glad she’s here to clear something up. Again, Peggy Studney does not support Brandstrader’s plan to cover the Ike. She worries it will prolong construction.
P.S.: “I couldn’t stand the thought of it.”
F.B.: “They’re going to tear up the expressway anyways. It’s going to be ugly anyways.”
P.S.: “Fred will tell you his side of the story, I’m sure. But you know my side of the story: I hate that thing.”
F.B.: “I’d rather the end result be you know, sixty new acres, most of which is park and open space as an end product, instead of all the noise I hear and have to scrub my porch every weekend because of all the particulate matter.
Architect Fred Brandstrader believes the problem can be solved through good design. And he says the Ike isn’t such a powerful foe anyway. It took money and political will to divide his Oak Park neighborhood. Brandstrader contends it will take more of the same to fix it.
For the Environment Report, I’m Shawn Allee.