Tell ‘Long-Winded Jackanapes’ To Leave Bowie’s Street Alone

James Bowie: You know, if you live five more years, you might just be a great man.
William Travis: I think I will probably have to settle for what I am now.

From 2004 Film The Alamo 

The pair did not make it five more years.  Among the things preserving their greatness, however, are the knife bearing Bowie’s name, the lore surrounding Travis’ line in the sand, Travis Park and a pair of streets in downtown San Antonio.

As it evidently is deemed acceptable to intermingle reel and real history when it comes to The Alamo, I do not hesitate to allow a movie director to put words in James Bowie’s mouth to help defend the street that bears his name in downtown San Antonio.  A block or so of it is under siege by some corporate types Bowie might have called “long-winded jackanapes.”

According to the San Antonio Express-News, some believe the Tower of the Americas, O’Neil Ford’s prominent erection on the city’s skyline, is so difficult for visitors to spot they need to see a street sign bearing its name.  The street getting picked on is Bowie’s namesake.

If a body is too blind to find the Tower of the Americas, how in the world would that person ever be able to spot a street sign?   Maybe the sign also could have an aural aide for the visually impaired.  Perhaps it could be equipped with a recording of a Chart House theme song playing over and over during the hours it is open.

Street names are an important part of a city’s history and should not be changed arbitrarily to suit the marketing strategy of a business located there.  Few things confuse drivers more than streets that change names mid-intersection, and downtown already has way too many of these.  Dolorosa/Commerce, Presa/Jefferson and Broadway/Losoya cause drivers to assume they have made wrong turns and to unpredictably slam on brakes at green lights.

Bowie did not manage to live five more years, but his fame draws more visitors to San Antonio than a restaurant on top of the Tower ever will.  We might not know where all his ashes lie buried, but let him at least retain the honor of having his street, short as it is, remain intact.

Seesawing Signage Issues: Take three baby steps forward and two giant steps back.

Update on September 3:  Oh my gosh!  Some of the window-covering signage in the Crockett Block has disappeared.  Is there some powerful new enforcer at work?  Is there hope Shamu will be chased back to SeaWorld soon?

Originally, I added that optimistic update to the bottom of an older post, “Slip-Sliding Backwards on Alamo Plaza Signage.”  I need no longer be Alamobsessive about the plaza, I thought.  Other people care and are enforcing the regulations spelled out in the Unified Development Code.

Unfortunately,  the Express-News’ Scott Huddleston quickly jerked the rug out from under me,  suggesting I go back for a closer look. 

Encountered the usual irritating distractions on the way, such as the banners and goods spilling out of the basement on the Commerce Street side of the Dullnig Building.  One shop in the Dullnig still had sandwich boards outside on Alamo Street, but Best of Texas removed its sandwich boards, actually advertising sandwiches, from the sidewalk – only to suspend them illegally overhead now.  Some of the “everything changes color in the sun” banners have indeed been removed from the Crockett Block, unfortunately leaving Alfred Giles name carved in stone next to a window full of boxes. 

But what I really came to see was the replacement for the pop-up tent the Daughters of the Republic of Texas previously used to hawk their audio tours of the Alamo.  Like the other hundred or so people on the plaza disappointed to find the grounds closed at 5:30, I had to be content to peer through the barred gateways.  (An aside, but wouldn’t the Daughters be able to rake in more dollars from the sale of coonskin caps and snow globes if they kept the Alamo open later than 5 p.m. while the days are so long?)

A beautiful arcade leads from the Alamo to the library on the grounds.  But… there it is.  A tacky banner suspended from a cedar beam (the flag still waving “proudly from the walls” referenced by William Barrett Travis?) guides you right to the new tour store.  A wall painted a depressing shade of brown now fills one the arches.  A window permits rental of the audio tours with a shelf attached by some cheap metal hinges. 

No one could accuse the Daughters of over-spending on this fine architectural addition to the hallowed grounds.  The budget was extremely frugal according to their reports:

Estimated start up cost is $8,000 to be covered by Allies of the Alamo.  The start up costs are:  portable building to house equipment and sales, part-time, no benefits staff, four credit card machines, signage, cash register, air conditioner, and miscellaneous items such as stickers and printing.

The investment apparently is paying off:

…Tour Mates is now up and running.  They had 201 customers on their second day of operation.  It is in a good location and customers have had good comments.  They are pleased with the charge.  There is a sign that reads “Admission to The Alamo is FREE.  Enhance your visit with a $6 audio tour.”

At this rate, the Daughters’ initial investment will be paid off in about a month.

Huddleston questioned the architectural merits of this low-budget addition in his online blog:

Since it’s on state property, the booth and the banner didn’t have to be presented for approval by the city’s Historic and Design Review Commission.  If it did, I would hazard to speculate that the commission would allow the banner.  But I think commissioners might say putting the wooden booth right up against the outside edge of the 1937 Arcade was “not respectful” to the historic structure.

It’s time for the Historic Design and Review Commission to call for reenforcements.   Send a messenger to Austin to alert the Texas Historical Commission:

in the name of Liberty, of patriotism & every thing dear to the American character, to come to our aid, with all dispatch.

William Barrett Travis

February 24, 1836

Note Added on September 11

“I don’t claim to be a historian, I’m just an English drummer who loves the Alamo.”

If only Phil Collins would rally the Texas Historical Commission.  The commission devoted two full pages in The Medallion to Collins’ presentation on “his notable Alamo Collection.” 

But where did he make his presentation?  Dallas.  How about a walking tour around the plaza? 

I’ve issued a pitiful blog-plea before, Phil, but, please, “come to our aid, with all dispatch.”

Note Added on October 28:  Please join me in submitting the audio rental booth addition to the Centennial Arcade at the Alamo to the National Trust for Historic Preservation’s Yikes’ postings of inartistic alterations to historic structures.

Note Added on December 20News from London is that Phil Collins himself might try to broker peace at the Alamo.  Sounds dangerous for someone Rolling Stone describes as having suicidal thoughts.  But maybe he can summon up the heroism from whoever he was at the Alamo in a former life:

Collins has noticed glowing, semitransparent light orbs in a series of photos he took at the Alamo. “It’s paranormal energy,” he explains, noting that a psychic recently told him he fought at the fort in a previous lifetime. “I don’t want to sound like a weirdo. I’m not Shirley MacLaine, but I’m prepared to believe. You’ve seen the pictures. You can’t deny them, so therefore it’s possible that I was there in another life.”

Slip-Sliding Backwards on Alamo Plaza Signage

Such a sad birthday greeting this morning on my way to workout.  The 1891 Reuter Building is one of the most handsome landmarks on Alamo Plaza.  Yet there he is – a huge Shamu brazenly filling the building’s beautiful arched window.  I was too saddened to even stop and take a photograph.     

This violates the City’s Unified Development Code in so many ways, particularly as I am sure Sea World is not behind those doors.  Will no one put a stop to the runaway commercialization of the Alamo Plaza Historic District?     

Reuter Building
This photograph shows the commercialization of the facade of the Reuter Building prior to the installation of Shamu in the middle window.

 

I hope the San Antonio Conservation Society will decide to spring into action to defend this affront to the Society’s property.  This is the Conservation Society’s facade according to its website:     

The facade was given to the San Antonio Conservation Society Foundation by the building’s owner, Mr. Thomas Wright, in May, 1978, and was the first such gift accepted by the Foundation. It was restored with funds from the Foundation, the owner, and a matching grant from the U.S. Department of the Interior administered by the Texas Historical Commission.     

The Society helped shrink the banner; surely they can shrivel up this Shamu beached on Alamo Plaza.     

Update on August 14:   Pictures do say it better; so I went back to Alamo Plaza on my morning walk.   Tried to restrict photos to the topic at hand, but portable signboards are creeping back out some of the businesses’ doors and the Alfred Giles-designed Crockett Block has the same window issues as the Reuter Building.     

Update on August 31:  The Historic Design and Review Commission has some tightening of signage regulations on its agenda tomorrow, which is great.  But only if it is enforced.  Hopefully, the tightening and clarification of who’s in charge means enforcement ahead….  We’ll know when we get to wave goodbye to Shamu, ads for the Buckhorn and all the other clutter.