Polk Street: On Corridors and Community

The Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary offers several definitions for  “corridor.”  While some are metaphorical (“the corridors of power”), the physical emphasis is on a travelled path, such as “a usually narrow passageway or route.”  The implication of the physical definition is that a “corridor” is something you employ to get from here to there.  Consequently, you give little attention to or thought about what you are passing while you are using a corridor.  And when you are not, such thought as you give to it is limited to issues that might affect your use of it to get from here to there.

It is with some trepidation that I describe Polk Street as a significant north-south corridor, as it lies one block east of and parallels Van Ness Avenue (U.S. 101), which is San Francisco’s principal north-south corridor.  While Polk Street is definitely the road less traveled by, it remains a corridor, for several forms of transportation.  The volume and mixture of its traffic require close attention from those navigating it; even brief glimpses of the scenery to either side carry great risk.  And that is a shame really, for a journey along Polk Street can be much more than just the act of getting somewhere else; it is a trip through the highs and lows of San Francisco, both in geography and community.

I believe that now, during a temporary pause while MUNI collates the information from its “open houses,” is a time to reflect on Polk Street not just in the context of gain or loss for one’s particular cause, but on the more significant issue of how an improved Polk Street might make for an improved community through which it passes.  The key to that, in turn, lies in not thinking of Polk Street solely as a “corridor.”

The overwhelming focus of attention so far in the continuing saga of Polk Street has been on the narrow section, above Post Street.  It is by far the longer stretch, the players are more numerous and the stakes are certainly higher.  Small businesses line the narrow section for block after block.  Those using Polk Street to reach them, from semis to bicycles, must “share” a common lane in each direction along this stretch, a condition that pleases no one.  The fundamental struggle between expediting traffic and providing parking is most starkly displayed here, with bicycles an additional—and welcome--component in the mix.

The community that deserves attention, however, lies at the lower section of Polk Street.  It begins at Post Street, precisely the point that Polk Street widens.  It is a shorter stretch, extending south just to Turk Street; below that are the large, new Civic Center buildings that house only elements of city government, and then only during the day.  

Polk’s wider width on this lower stretch cushions it from the sharpest edges of the disputes that rage about the stretch above, although not the disputes themselves.  There are also fewer businesses here. The representatives of Save Polk Street that I spoke with knew of no businesses south of Post that were members, despite the fact that lower Polk contains virtually the only automobile-oriented businesses south of Union Street; stores for auto parts, shops for auto repair and motor courts, each with its own small parking lot.  Save Polk Street has nonetheless taken a position in favor of the “safety changes only” option for this section, as it has for the narrow section to the north.  This is to be expected, and expected equally is its continued focus on Polk’s narrower, longer and thus “more important” segment to the north.   The bicycle coalition will also focus its efforts above Post Street, for equally good reasons.

The combination of a wider street and far fewer merchants has made the lower section almost an afterthought to those with a particular cause to support.  This is unfortunate, for the intersection of Polk and Post Streets is a border in rather more ways than just that of street width.  If your travel is southbound on Polk Street, the up and downs you have traversed from Union Street to this point are substantial, but they are only geographic.  The adjoining community differentiates largely in the level of affluence.  As you descend from the western ridge of Nob Hill, however, you are entering “Polk Gulch,” a name now considered very politically incorrect among the neighborhood boosters, who prefer “Polk Village.”  Gulch does have a purely geographic origin, but it remains reflective of the descent in income and class a southward journey quickly demonstrates.

The border between affluence and want is an abrupt one, but no more so than is common in any large city.  The first clue comes between Sutter and Post: an awning that proclaims “Check Cashing, ” with a smaller sign below advertising “Payday Loans.” Another such establishment appears just below Post.   There are no such signs on the higher elevations.  But now you have entered the Tenderloin District, technically its western boundary.  If you had any doubts, the street people hanging out at the corner convenience store quickly eliminate them.  The structures that abut the sidewalk begin to signal the change later, as the small shops that characterize upper and middle Polk Street begin to disappear, further accenting the difference from the heights of Russian and Nob Hills.  But much more than the buildings and their inhabitants have changed.  The difference between Good Vibrations up the hill and Frenchy’s Adult Superstore below Post is as much one of attitude as altitude.

Even what remains the same is different.  People sitting along the sidewalk enjoying the sun and conversation are a common sight all along Polk Street.  On upper Polk, they are sitting in chairs next to little tables while eating dainty creations and sipping coffee.  Below Post Street, they are sitting in wheel chairs or just front stoops, and sipping from bags and bottles.  Those in the cafes above may have arrived by car or bike as well as by properly-shod foot, but down here they are the urban poor, mostly elderly, and the only wheels involved in getting them here are the ones on their chairs.

A similar theme is seen in the food outlets.  Food along Polk is ethnically diverse, with a great many locations that are tasty and healthful, plus a few that are famous (see Oyster Depot, Swan).  There are no national brand fast food franchises on Upper Polk.  The first—Subway—makes its appearance at Sutter.  Then, at Eddy there are two, KFC and Taco Bell.  Actually they are one: one building, one entrance, one counter, but two menus.  Neither has any provision for parking, nor any apparent need.  Their customers (with the exception of truck drivers on lunch break) all walk, most from the Tenderloin District to the east.  The chicken is lousy, even for KFC.

Even the buses avoid lower Polk.  The southbound Route 19 bus turns east on Eddy, to turn south again on Hyde, while the northbound 19 does not even turn onto Polk Street until Geary, having come up Larkin.  There are more customers on those streets than on lower Polk.

Muni’s options for this lower stretch derive from the wider width available, but they also suggest that while Polk Street may be a corridor, very few vehicles of any sort travel its full length, particularly to or from its southern edge.  One of Muni’s options put to the public was to divert northbound traffic off of Polk Street entirely for the first few blocks.  This hardly suggests high vehicle usage.  It does not require statistics to conclude that most of those who travel Polk Street turn onto and off of it at some point, headed in other directions.

Thus, while Polk Street is a transportation corridor, it tends to be a partial one, allowing it to nourish its neighbors along the way.  Except, it seems, those unfortunate enough to live in the Tenderloin; they can’t even benefit from the scrutiny that controversy would bring.

Upon the conclusion of whatever work the final project actually undertakes, Polk Street will continue to be a transportation corridor, and a safer one.  While we will all likely applaud the result (some more than others perhaps), those who focus solely on the street and its traffic will miss a much more important point:  the true significance of streets, roads, or any other form of transportation corridor derives from what they do for the people and communities they touch.  Some understand this more than others, in their own way.  The merchants behind Save Polk Street fear that making Polk Street easier to travel will make it harder to stop, particularly in front of their stores.  As I stated in my previous post, this fear should not be airily dismissed.  At a very personal level, these merchants realize the importance of people using the street as not just a means of getting somewhere else, but as a means of getting to the people—and thus enriching the community—along the way.  There has been much talk within the bicyclist community about how they should stop and buy at the stores along Polk, to convince merchants that safer cycling will mean more business.  This is to be encouraged, but will a safer corridor encourage its users, pedestrians as well as bicyclists, to stop and buy at the stores on lower Polk also?  While I don’t expect bicyclists to greatly increase the business at KFC/Taco Bell, there are several other stores and shops that do deserve a boost.  This can only benefit a community that could use the help.

When all is said and done, it is the community, not the corridor, that should matter the most.  Regardless of how you get there.

Parking vs. Bicyclists on Polk Street

The San Francisco Municipal Transit Authority (SFMTA, or “Muni”) unveiled its latest thinking on the contentious issue of traffic vs. parking on Polk Street in two “Open Houses,” April 27and 30, at the First Congregational Church of Christ at the corner of Polk and Bush Streets.  Neither event was a meeting, and thus lacked drama that greeted Muni’s previous version of its plans.  Discussions took place in small groups or just face to face.  Rhetoric was in abundance, but little true dialogue.  I attended both meetings, my goal being more to comprehend the subject at its different levels, than to examine the technical details.  In the interest of full disclosure, I should state that I frequently shop along Polk Street, and I walk to get there, as I live just a few blocks away.  I also own neither a car nor a bicycle.

The section of Polk Street to be rebuilt spans the 20 blocks between its intersection with Union Street to the north and McAllister Street to the south.  Muni’s most recent offering divides this into two sections, the “narrower width” from Union to Post, and the “wider width” portion from Post to McAllister.  This is in accord with the existing situation, as Polk Street widens from Post Street south.  The current traffic configuration on Polk Street changes at this point also.  South of Post Street bicycles have a dedicated lane for both north and southbound traffic; north of Post they must share the lanes with motor vehicles.

Muni’s latest outreach to the Polk Street community took the form of graphic and textual outlines of three proposals for each of the two sections into which Polk Street has been divided.  Next to each graphic was a large piece of blank paper, and both red and blue magic markers with which visitors were invited to register their comments in a San Francisco-appropriate bold and colorful manner.  They filled up rapidly and had to be replaced often.  A survey asking which alternatives the individual preferred was distributed and collected.  Other displays included a transportation survey which updated some statistics, claiming that 50% of Polk Street shoppers arrive on foot, as compared to 19% on public transit, 16% by car and 6% on bicycles (“other” and “no response” made up the remainder).  These figures differ a little from those previously distributed about the project.

The most recent MUNI proposals follow the standard three-option format of engineer presentations to the unschooled: An option for little (or no) change, one for much change and a compromise middle ground.   Only the sequence of the three options differs between the wider/narrow option presentations.  Greatly oversimplified, the three options for the upper portion are (A) safety improvements only, (B) a designated bike lane only in the northbound direction, and (C) two designated and marked bike lanes, one in each direction.    On the wider (southern) portion of Polk Street, the road width and considerably less traffic has resulted in somewhat different options.  Option (A) would provide a complicated combination of a single bike lane northbound, separated from a parking lane on the center of the roadway, with a bike lane southbound and only one vehicle lane, in the southbound direction. Northbound vehicle traffic (considered very low in in this section) would be rerouted, perhaps to Larkin Street one block to the east, which is one-way northbound.  Option (B) features two “buffered” bike lanes, one in each direction, while option (C) outlines safety improvements only.

There appears to be little controversy over the “wider width” options on southern Polk Street, although rather more over the specific details.  This is largely because the lower section of Polk differs considerably from that above, with fewer retail merchants in stores along the street (I will deal with this difference in a later post).

Along the upper section, however, controversy reigns.  The dispute over this section is—on the surface—yet another replay of the “do you expedite street travel or provide street parking?” dilemma that has plagued urban commercial streets since the advent of the automobile.  The antagonists are even arrayed in the conventional manner: those who travel the street seeking a swifter journey versus local merchants who want to preserve street parking.  Yet there are two fundamental differences here, both of which actually suggest that progress has been made in the priorities of both the public and municipal government.  First, the basic motive for the project is not to either expedite traffic or safeguard parking, but to produce greater personal safety for those using the street, regardless of how.  This shift of safety from a side issue to the driving issue should be welcomed by all, whether walkers, riders or drivers.  Second, and of personal interest to me as a historian, is the fact that the traffic to be expedited at the expense of parking is not that of automobiles, but of bicycles.  Drivers are likely to be inconvenienced regardless of the options selected; curbside parking will probably be reduced and some motor vehicle traffic may even be rerouted off Polk Street itself.  The true “winners” of this dispute will likely be bicyclists.  Assuming that MUNI will not select the “safety improvements only” options on both sections, the question is by how much.  Street parking has thus slid to third place on the priority list.  I consider this a step forward.

Not everyone thinks so.  The proposal spurred the formation of “Save Polk Street,” which claims to represent the local merchants.  The group bitterly opposes the cutting of parking spaces, while verbally supporting the need for increased safety measures.  They were present at both open houses, wearing and selling black T-shirts emblazoned with “Save Polk Street.”  The organized opposition, the “Folks for Polk,” while more diverse, draws its primary support from bicyclists, who lined up their bikes and literature outside the church building.

The merchants’ very verbal opposition to MUNI’s offered options is based solely on the perceived threat to Polk Street businesses that a loss of even some parking spaces would entail.  The current MUNI proposals make their position somewhat more difficult.  For the upper portion of Polk Street, while Option (C) would eliminate 18% of parking spaces “within one block of Polk Street,” both option (A) and Option (B) would eliminate the same number of spaces, now identified as no more than 5%.  Nevertheless, “Save Polk Street” has formally endorsed Option (A) for the “narrow width” section and opposes both (B) and (C), despite the fact that the loss of parking spaces are the same for both options (A) and (B).   Needless to say, they also dispute MUNI’s figures about how people arrive at Polk Street via automobiles as well as the cost in parking spaces of all the options.

A frequently made point among those who oppose vehicle parking in urban areas basically on principle (and I count myself among this group) is that the opposition of local merchants is “irrational,” i.e., not based on actual experience.   They offer several examples to prove their contention.  It is at this point that my bias as a historian comes in, and causes me to distance myself from such arguments.  The point about “irrationality” is valid (although I would prefer “non-rational”), but, if there is one thing that my research in urban history has caused me to give greater weight to—and tolerance for—it is the innate conservatism of small business owners.  The fact that its expression in the admittedly hyperbolic “Save Polk Street” cause is based on emotion rather than data should come as no surprise to anyone.  Even the data can be understood as threatening if viewed through a reasonably sympathetic eye.  Small retail businesses are the urban market economy’s equivalent of peasants, operating so close to the survival margin that even a slight change for the worse might destroy their efforts.  No small business owner on Polk Street would view the possible loss of even 5% of his/her income, let alone 18%, with anything but dread.  Even the logical understanding (by the rest of us, at least) that many of those who currently drive cars are going to come to Polk Street anyway is hardly comforting.  What would be an “acceptable” drop in revenue for a Polk Street business?  And who among us is qualified to make such a judgment?  My final observation on this point is that judging from the business turnover on Polk Street just since I began to walk it, and the current number of empty storefronts, owning a small business on Polk Street is not exactly a license to print money.

In addition to store owners who believe instinctively that they stand to lose and bicyclists who see clearly that they stand to gain, a third group (while I am oversimplifying I might as well go all the way) was also present in some number.  These were local residents, the majority of them well into maturity, and quite a few in the fullness of their years.  They are the pedestrians who frequent Polk Street most often, and the experience has made many of them quite vocal.

  The “open houses” are not a referendum; no vote totals will be taken, and the final decision will be MUNI’s.  It is nonetheless tempting to view the process as a struggle between merchants and bicyclists and speculate on whose side the “undecided,” the local residents, will line up.  From my personal (and highly unscientific) survey, this third group may be largely indifferent to the loss of vehicle parking, but is by no means inclined to support much—if any—gain by bicyclists.  While neither of the two direct antagonists can count on anything more than qualified support from this group, I suspect that most of the neighborhood residents may actually side with the merchants.  The fault for that unfortunate possibility can be laid squarely on the bicyclists themselves, or rather a small minority of them.  At the two open houses at least, the local residents, the voices of experience, tended to express a substantial animus against bicyclists in general, each with personal examples not limited to Polk Street.  The reason is well known: the tendency of some bicyclists to avoid all rules of the street that they possibly can.  Virtually every local resident has stories about how bicyclists behave, and how they respond when reminded that they also should obey the traffic rules.  And yes, I count myself among them.  Before anyone gets upset, please let me add that I have no idea how many act in this way, or what percentage they constitute.  I believe that bicyclists (like gun owners) are overwhelmingly honest, law-abiding citizens.

Bicyclists have also hurt their cause in public statements and online comments.  It is disturbing to hear or read the statements by (again, a minority of) self-identified bicyclists that dismiss the concerns of the local merchants, or blithely predict that some businesses will be have to be replaced by those more friendly to bicyclists (read upscale), such as cafes.  At the very least they tend to confirm the impression of bicyclists as elitist snobs, contemptuous of those whose role in life is to serve them, preferably with trendy coffees.

Anti-bicyclist anecdotes were by no means the only opinion expressed by local residents.

A familiar theme appeared in their comments about the search for safety: “instead of passing new laws, why don’t we just enforce the ones we have?”  If the goal is safety they say, the answer is simple:  more police on the street to tightly enforce the traffic laws; against drivers, but against bicyclists even more.  This local version of the classic argument used against any and all proposals for change is indisputably correct; unfortunately, it is also moot.  Too many laws and too few personnel have been the reality for a very, very long time; law enforcement has always had to select which laws to actually enforce, and which to turn a blind eye to.  In today’s world of increasing health costs for public employees, no city has the option of flooding the streets with additional officers.

MUNI claims that after the comments are tabulated and processed, it will offer its “final” plan (although in San Francisco, few plans are ever final).  That plan will be composed of one of the previewed options for each section, albeit with modifications in many details.  This has not prevented charges by both sides of official favoritism toward the other.  Given that this is after all, San Francisco, the local merchants have more valid reasons to believe this than do bicyclists.  It is unlikely that MUNI will recommend the “safety improvements only” option for either section, and almost certainly not for both.  Bicyclists are favored to win, but “Save Polk Street” will continue its struggle.  The timetable of how this issue will play out is uncertain, but be sure of one thing:  the war has not ended; other battles lie ahead.

Why this Blog…and What is It?

I am sure you know the first half of the title quote, and a multitude of urban-oriented websites emphasize the “change” component.  This blog takes a longer view, inspired by another old (if less well known) saying: “history never repeats itself; people, however, usually do.”

I am the author of What Killed Downtown? which chronicles the fate of a classic American downtown along Main Street in the mid-sized Borough of Norristown, Pennsylvania.  In 1950, crowds thronged its streets and shopped in its stores.  It did however, have two issues: (1) traffic congestion, and (2) a parking problem.  I now reside in the great city of San Francisco, a substantial journey along the space/time continuum from the subject of my book.  Yet, while crowds throng its (hugely larger) downtown and shop in its stores, it does have two issues…well, you know the rest.

The Norristown experience is at the core of my blog “The More Things Change…” which has a geographic focus on the Delaware Valley.  This blog, “The More They Stay the Same,” takes a broader look—both geographically and thematically—at the same continuing issues.  The posts will also be longer.

My research experience has been greatly influenced by the close proximity in the Delaware Valley of both older small to mid-sized urban areas and superhighway-spawned conglomerations, particularly King of Prussia, that prototypical “Edge City.”  The historical trajectories of both types of “cities” are based on the nature of their relationship to successive modes of transportation, so the means of getting about—then and now—are my primary interest.  This is ultimately a blog about transportation.

My blogs cross-fertilize, and my current residence in San Francisco regularly provides a variety of fascinating twists on historical themes as the city plays out its cutting-edge attempts to improve the quality of urban life, in transportation as in so many other areas.

My approach may be one of skepticism, but by no means pessimism.  Skepticism may be produced by the accumulation of knowledge; but pessimism is produced by the accumulation of myths.  Besides, skepticism cushions the inevitable angst when the eventual results do not measure up to the initial predictions, as is so often the case in this land of Hype and Glory.

Here is a specific—and relevant—example of what I mean: 

I view urban planners as akin to those trying to design a safer football helmet.  They are to be encouraged, but their accomplishments measured against the fact that they are attempting to bridge the fundamental contradiction between the structure of the human body and the laws of physics.  Urban planners should likewise be encouraged, although they are attempting to bridge the fundamental contradiction between the structure of the urban grid and the physics of the automobile.  Both efforts are necessary, but we should never lose sight of the limits their respective contradictions place upon them.

The above reveals the fundamental belief that underlies this blog: there is a fundamental contradiction between the urban grid and the automobile.  The physical basis for this is known to all, and is indisputable: there is close to universal agreement that the least efficient method of bringing people into downtown is by automobile.  Of course, that does not universally translate into accepting what I identify as a fundamental contradiction, and therein lies much of the discussion and all of the plans for our current visions of the “livable city.”

While I believe my position to be an acceptable starting point, that does not translate into doctrinaire opposition to the automobile as ever more new proposals pop up to deal with traffic and parking.  As with those toiling to produce a safer football helmet, the proposals and the plans must keep coming, and I might even support them.  In this, and in much of life, we should all be in emulation of Emerson; willing to encompass contradictions.

In the final analysis then, my observations as regard the automobile and attempts to deal with it are driven by what I will somewhat pompously term “the lessons of history,” not the latest calculations of this engineer or the proposal of that planner.  This is what you readers of this blog are in for: frequent references to history, but a minimum of technical jargon.