Nine houses fail to please. Read today’s list of unappreciated structures—after the jump.
Nine houses fail to please. Read today’s list of unappreciated structures—after the jump.
Four lorn homes, ready to meet their landfill. See the list after the jump.
The Doyle Mansion gets its dismissal papers. Plus a Riverside Terrace teardown (you’re looking at it) and nine more homes say goodbye—all in today’s report.
Short but bittersweet: Today’s list of building demos begins after the jump.
Twenty doomed structures today. Say goodbye to them—after the jump.
A modernist classic gets its dust-conversion approval. That and other building-retirement news in today’s report, which begins after the jump.
More of an end to Greenview Manor, plus other exciting demolitions . . . after the jump.
Six houses prepare for their new lives in a landfill. The list begins after the jump.
“If your city doesn’t have a skatepark, then your city is a skatepark,” reads a headline on a Skaters for Public Skateparks website. And really: Houston has so many better uses for its concrete surfaces—like channeling floodwaters.
In the words of one proponent, speaking in a Public Use Skateparks for Houston (PUSH) video:
If you want to get the kids off the streets, get them to quit tearing up your ledges and your rails, and put them some place where they can actually have some fun and stay out of trouble, a place where families can come hang out — there’s a real need for it in a city this big.
It’s the flypaper theory of city planning: Build it, and maybe those annoying skaters will go there and leave your property alone.
You might have expected building owners bothered by scrapes and skate wax to have been bigger proponents of the newly announced downtown Skatepark. Instead, it took a $1.5 million donation from Joe Jamail for the Houston Parks Board to meet its fundraising goals.
The park will be 35,000 square feet of sculpted concrete on the west side of Sabine St. at Memorial Dr., just under the Sabine Bridge over Buffalo Bayou. There better be some drains in those bowls.
PUSH spokesman Barry Blumenthal told city council to expect 200 skaters and hundreds of onlookers at the park on a typical Saturday.
After the jump, more views of the new skatepark.
Another day, another set of demos. Today’s list features a downtown lunch favorite, more rubble in Greenview Manor, and some scraps leftover in an historic district. See it all after the jump.
A Heights institution falls. That and more in our daily list of demolition permits—after the jump.
A fast food icon quickly devoured, plus the end of a house on an oak-lined Woodland Heights street. Details after the jump.
Six houses bite the dust today, including a pair on adjacent sites on Houston Avenue, just north of Downtown. The list is below.
Just in case you require more evidence the Heights has changed forever, here’s a two-bedroom, one-bath 1930 bungalow for sale with a small freestanding workshop in the back. Sounds like the old Heights, right? Except that the workshop has been converted . . . into a pub. Seats three!
This is a little confusing. Weren’t backyard workshops for drinking anyway? And is this the part of the Heights that’s still dry?
After the jump, pics of the secret backyard get-out house.
Neighborhood obliteration never really took off in the Sixth Ward the way it did in the Fourth. Maybe the experience is something developers can learn from as they set about tackling the Third Ward. In the meantime, a new proposal would seal the Old Sixth Ward Historic District’s fate, extending a six-month moratorium on demolitions.
Here’s the concept: instead of being a plain ol’ Historic District, most of the Sixth Ward neighborhood would be renamed as a Protected Historic District. An entirely new concept.
This would be okay, really. The neighborhood is mostly small old Victorian houses. You don’t get the really spectacular demolitions unless the buildings have some concrete or steel.
Photo: 2015 Lubbock, available at Har.com