Posts Tagged ‘D.L. Clark Building’
Atavist candy and the Allegheny River
Thursday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
On Pittsburgh’s north side, nearby the stadium where the Steelers live and play, a former factory building can be observed. The 1928 vintage structure has obviously been renovated in modernity, with its snazzy windows and sharply pointed brick walls.
It’s called the D.L Clark Building and this structure used to be a candy factory. Over at historicpittsburgh.org, they’ve got old timey shots of the place from ‘back in the day.’
Recent scuttling brought this building onto my radar, and I’m glad of that.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It’s peculiar, to me, that a shroud of relative obscurity greets the curious narrator, as to the specifics of this building and its renovation, which real estate representatives describe as ‘a landmark.’
This shroud, I think, is the shadow result of the sort of SEO marketing efforts that real estate people engage in. Page of search results after page of search results were unified in congratulating me on my interest in renting commercial space in the building. The listings describe cavernous and desirable spaces within. Apparently, one of Pittsburgh’s news outlets is also based herein. The SEO marketing crowds out actual search results.
As far as what Google, in modernity, has become – I think Huey Lewis said it best. Shame that, Google was a great tool once.
Bah!
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The excellent historicpittsburgh.org site offers this ‘D. L. Clark Company Papers and Photographs’ page, which discusses the Clark Company and its long history in some detail.
Manufacturers of the iconic Clark Bar, the D. L. Clark Company was. Said ‘Clark Bar’ was a sweet treat that was commonly found floating around in the ruck sacks of American Soldiers during the two world wars.
I was always a Milky Way or Three Musketeers guy, with a strong secondary preference for Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. Also, Lemonheads, mmmm. Of course, I was a kid in the 1970’s and early 80’s.
Forward, ever forward, and it was time to push on.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Your humble narrator is absolutely captivated by the ramps leading to and from the Fort Duquesne Bridge in this section of Pittsburgh. It’s not a great pedestrian space, I should mention, until you’re squarely in the shadows of these things. The entire area hereabouts is all about the needs of the automobile, despite there being a light rail station and lots of bus service nearby. This is roughly the mid point between the two big stadiums – Acrisure/Steelers and PNC Park/Pirates.
There’s a lot of new construction in this zone, and a strip of high volume bar/restaurants, of the sort which the TV show ‘Bar Rescue’ extols as being ‘profit machines’ which enjoy surge business on game days.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One reached the shoreline of the Allegheny River, and crossed the waterbody on the Sixth Street/Roberto Clemente bridge. One was hoping for some maritime activity, but that wasn’t happening (yet).
I was as happy as possible, for one such as myself. The filthy black raincoat was flapping about in the wind, and the light was good.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
That’s when this set of stairs leading off of the bridge and down to one of the riverfront trails manifested itself. I’ve walked down these stairs dozens of times, it should be mentioned, but for some reason… the PTSD regarding the bum ankle manifested.
Couldn’t stop myself from ‘death gripping’ the bannister. Managed to force myself down them to the trail below, but it wasn’t pretty and I was literally clinging to the bannisters on that first turn down there. It’s getting better, but is obviously still present, this sensation.
Back tomorrow with more.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
Merchant Street Bridge
Wednesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Allow me to start this post by saying that the locally grown automobile and truck drivers of Pittsburgh just suck at operating their vehicles.
They don’t seem to know what the brake pedal does, drive as if they have their heads wrapped up in gauze, and the Yinzers seem to believe that there’s only one direction their car can go – forward and at top speed. They seem to refuse to fully turn the steering wheel when required. The concept of ‘vehicular following distance’ is foreign. Collision is common.
Road rage is at epidemic levels out here. I ascribe to NYC’s version of driving, which states that taking risks and driving aggressively should be somehow connected to a victory state. If you are doing something not so sane behind the wheel, there has to be a payoff for the effort and risk. Not so with the Yinzers. About thirty people a year die in Pittsburgh because they accidentally drive off of cliffs.
After being thwarted by a lack of rail traffic at a nearby set of Norfolk Southern tracks, your humble narrator decided that he’d been standing still too long and got back to the business of the day, which was scuttling and exercising while waving the camera about.
I soon was shambling towards the Merchant Street Bridge, the filthy black raincoat flapping in the breeze.
A convenient bit of historical signage was noticed along the way, which relates the long story and circumstance of the span, which ended up being focused on for today’s missive.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It’s a pretty minor rail bridge, this, but what caught my eye was the enormous steel barrier vouchsafing it from vehicular collision.
Remember, Pittsburgh drivers just blow.
At least a third of them are texting while driving at any given time, many while on the highways and moving at speed. The interiors of their cars are decorated like a teenager’s bedroom. They arrange toys on their dashboards. This isn’t just in cars, either, it’s the heavy trucks too.
One time, I drove past a guy who was eating a Hoagie sandwich with his left arm while holding a beverage container with his right, concurrently he was watching a TV show on his phone – which was balanced on the car’s steering wheel. He was operating the steering wheel with his right elbow. On a bridge, and while heading into a tunnel.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Of course, I had to focus in on the gouges and scrapes which that height barrier – painted bright and reflective yellow gold – was sporting. There’s an 11 foot height restriction for the bridge, which is indicated on both sides by similarly reflective highway signs.
Signs would work, were drivers paying attention while driving. They’re not, as you can see.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
On the other side of the Merchant Street Bridge, looking back at my path. Notice that busted signage…
Just last week, I saw some dude in a pickup enter a highway at 70 mph and then accelerate into heavy highway traffic, shooting out from an on-ramp. He perpetrated a diagonal merge through fairly dense traffic – at speed – to the passing lane on the left, and then executed a 90 mph diagonal path back across the three lanes to get to the next exit. He tried to negotiate a 30 mph off ramp curve at about 70. Dude ended up in the grass but didn’t roll over. Came pretty close, to my eye.
I think this bloke is a likely candidate to join that elite group of thirty who drive off cliffs to their death every year. What’s the point of the risk? It’s one exit. What did you achieve?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Even the height restriction sign isn’t safe. Jeez Louise.
I’ve been lucky enough to interact with people who are experts in many of the public facing specialities – sewer, transit, maritime, all that, over the years.
One of them designed and engineered highways and their ramps for New York State. The knowledge imparted to me from this person involved the actual science of high speed roads, as in why the roadway is slanted and where, or the different kinds of pavement you’d want to deploy depending on intended use and speed restrictions. I learned that the posted speed limit is usually set well below but within reach of the upper 15-20 mph operational speed capacity of the roadway itself.
If you’re doing 70 on a 55 mph highway, it’s risky from a physics POV as you’re operating in the upper percentile of the roadway’s design use. You can probably get away with 5-10 over the limit, and not risk rolling your vehicle or shooting over a cliff… but… why take that chance at all?
Slow down, jagoff.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The Merchant Street Bridge has an off shoot trestle, which is a former rail connection to a factory building, one which has incontrovertibly survived decades of urban renewal projects that have played out in this part of Pittsburgh which have demolished nearly everything else in sight. We’ll explore that tale a bit tomorrow.
Back tomorrow, with some candy.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
The Newtown Pentacle 