Thursday, September 18, 2008

Parking in a Big City



Let's face it, metro Atlanta has always had a problem with parking. The abundance of our concrete jungle doesn't always allow for sufficient parking in and until more citizens stop driving themselves around and start following the ways of mass transit the city will continue to have a road and parking crisis.

One location that never has sufficient parking is the Fellini's/La Fonda at the corner of Roswell and Wieuca Road. In this parking lot, you have a mix of one-way streets, parallel parking, 90 degree angle parking, and 60 degree angle parking. Due to a variety of the size of the road that circles the two restaurants, different angles of parking spaces are used to fix the maximum number of cars. Every square foot is used as cars line 2/3rds of the buildings and the outer edge of the perimeter.


Located in the center of this photo is a parking deck that stays well hidden in this upper class area of Buckhead. It sits between the Target and Dick's Sporting Goods and caters to shoppers in these stores as well as others. The deck is very large, but the remainder of it remains hidden from the eye of those on East Roxboro and Peachtree Street. This deck is of the mindset that if you have to build a parking deck in order to provide for massive structures like the ones in the photo then it might as well adapt to its surroundings.


This parking deck is the opposite of the previous photo in that it is not hidden from plain site nor does it blend in with the surrounding area. The deck, which is located between Georgia State and Underground Atlanta, takes on the roll of an art form. I would imagine the people who commissioned this mural were of the mindset, if we have to have this parking deck to accommodate for the cities attractions, we might as well make it visually interesting! This is just one example of how parking decks can differ while still serving their purpose.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Small Town Parking: Monroe, GA

Having grown up in a small town I never really gave much thought to how we park along the streets and the number of parking lots which are scattered around even the smallest of towns to hide the daily parking needs of businesses and employees because I am used to them...to me, parking decks are strange.

This image shows the only visible parking lot on the main drag though my hometown, with the exception of a new government building which was built a few years ago. The parking lot is a private space which businesses or individuals rent out by the week and month. Historically, I am told, this parking lot was a service station which was closed in the late 1970s and the land was vacant for a number of years and used as ad hoc parking for people who did not want to pay to use metered spaces on the street. The owner eventually decided that he could make money off his land by renting it for parking. The sign is unnecessary and slightly ridiculous as each space also has a sign marked private

This is Broad Street, the main drag. It has angled parking for about four blocks and largely constitutes the historic downtown district. This is the norm for public parking in the downtown area. The parking meters were removed in the early 1990s as they were of little real value in a downtown district which is four linear blocks. Parking is generally available most times of the day with the exception of the early evening when the restaurants are crowded with patrons. Signs are posted giving a two hour time limit on the spaces, but that is largely ignored--I have not known anyone to get a ticket for such an offense.

Most of the parking in the downtown area is hidden from the main drag and located to the rear of the buildings on corners. This is one such parking lot. Some stores have rear entrances for customers such as the red building, but most do not. Several of the buildings located on hills actually rent their basements out as stores and these serve as the only parking for such facilities. There are four or five such lots which are tiny and can only hold handful of cars. Because Broad Street is a state highway and the busiest road in town all deliveries for stores are made through rear alleys and streets, which are often blocked by semi-trailers and box trucks. While parking is sometimes an issue with lots like this one, it is largely the price paid to avoid the construction of unsightly parking decks or the demolition of historic buildings to create new municipal parking lots. The city administrators made the decision to maintain the quaint nature of the downtown and to sell that image to the public. For the most part, there have been no complaints.

Parking Lots o' Fun




The first picture is one of curbside parking in front of a new condo/shopping center on Dresden Dr.  It shows cars parallel parked off this fairly busy road.  Although there is rear parking for the condos themselves, these spots, along with the ones on the opposite side of the street, are used for the restaurants and boutiques located in this area.  Even though these are parallel spots, there is plenty of room to manuever in and out of thus reducing possible accidents as suggested in Lots of Parking (Jakle and Sculle 34)

Next picture displays an underground parking deck.  Although the entrance and a few handicap spots leading down are touched by natural light, the majority is not.  In addition there is visible ventilation system to help filter out unwanted smoke (Jakle and Sculle 143).  This deck also featured various parking sizes between the deck's pillars.  The allowed for compact, regular, as well as handicap spots (some of which were angled).  The deck itself, like many, were also very drab and without decorations (interior or exterior).

The third picture is merely a shopping center parking lot in the Buckhead area.  In the distance there are visible taller buildings that suggest a downtown-style skyline.  However, there is also the presence of various retailers.  This shop also has various establishments to help consumers cut down on their travels.  A more modern idea as opposed to older lots which usually would have parking for only a few businesses.  One of which in this shopping center (out of view) that helps with this quicker shopping is a grocery store.  A main problem with this lot is the size.  As it is located in a very busy district of Buckhead, the lot itself often fills up and customers are forced to park further away from their desired location.  It is obvious, just as suggest by Jakle and Sculle, that because of its prime location, space was maximized for the retailers whereas the parking lot is not of a proper size for the businesses and their patrons (Jakle and Sculle 209).

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

"... the car in motion ... the car at rest ..." (Jakle and Scully 1)

These three pictures of downtown Calhoun, Georgia, approximately 70 miles north of Atlanta on I-75, reveal a mosaic of small town elements reminiscent of turn-of-the-century uses of the downtown, urban elements often associated with the CBD, and the tropes of parking culture which can be found wherever cars are found. A striking occurrence, or rather an absence, also implicitly argued by these photos is that the town chooses vehicles over its inhabitants.



The first picture, "Downtown Calhoun, from atop parking garage," shows from this vantage a variety of parking options and signage associated with parking. Parallel parking and angled parking are both available on this one-way street. Yellow curbs, which developed as early as the 1930s (Jakle and Scully 31), denote no parking zones as does the diagonally-striped yellow space behind the pick-up truck. In the background, more angled parking can be seen on Wall Street, the "Main" street. In the distance (upper center portion of the photo) is Court Street, which has angled parking on both sides of the street as well as traffic moving both directions in the center. This city, displaying banners proclaiming it a "Main Street City," is currently renovating many of its late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century buildings, like the Gem Theater and the recently transformed Rooker Hotel into the Harris Arts Center, while trying to attract such businesses as diners, cafes, and antique shops. However, at five p.m. on a Tuesday afternoon, seventeen vehicles outnumber the lone pedestrian.


The second picture, "Downtown Calhoun, interior parking garage," portrays the ground level of the single parking garage in Calhoun. The slightly ominous, urban feel (dark, enclosed, tunnel-like) of this ubiquitous parking structure is ironic, as this is the only interior space of the entire structure; parking in this downtown is mostly curbside (open, seemingly spacious). This structure is adjacent to the Courthouse and County Jail and provides parking for municipal employees and those accessing municipal services; at just past five p.m., the structure is mostly vacant. Even though this is a fairly small space, the pillars, slots, arrows, and receding perspective create the impression of a larger, more urban parking space with its automobile-dense need for space. The structure is built into a hill with entrance/exit for the open-deck at that level and entrance/exit for the interior on the lower level. Most cities built their parking structures by the 1920s (Jakle and Scully 115); Calhoun's was built in the last five years. While not needing features such as speedy entrances/exits, ramps, space, and tight engineering/design, it borrows aesthetics of the modernist parking structure.

The third picture, "Downtown Calhoun, looking at parking garage," shows the one-way street in front of the garage, a portion of Piedmont Street from which the garage is accessed, and a portion of Wall (Main) Street. Wall Street is a major intersection, and the signage in the picture, similar to what Banham discusses in regard to much larger Los Angeles, is an important element of this downtown and its location on the Old Dixie Highway from Chattanooga to Atlanta (now US 41). The traffic is foregrounded in this picture, with the police car taking center stage in this area of the city that, essentially, now privileges municipal vehicles and employees. The wideness of the one-way street, as Jakle and Scully discuss (35), reveals a transformed Calhoun in which downtown space was deeded to parking, with the ensuing eroding of cultural spaces. The park that ran parallel to Wall Street remains only in the name of the present-day road: Park Street.

These pictures are representative of "parking as a commonplace of everyday life" (Jakle and Scully 16) in which the meaning of this downtown is a juxtaposition of centuries, technologies, architecture, and vehicles which have generally supplanted people. This combination of urban elements, ubiquitous parking tropes such as signage and color symbolism, and the retention of a "small" downtown reveals the ways in which "the car in motion [and] the car at rest" are part and parcel of every space in which vehicles must be parked and driven, even at the expense of the people who use and restore this place.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Lots of Parking






This series of photos is taken on Pryor Street between Bass and Pulliams Streets and beyond to Ralph David Abernathy, across 75 from Turner Stadium.  The first photo shows granite stairs and a granite wall.  These seem to be the only evidence of the houses that used to exist here.  (Although I found random pieces of brick laying about, I could not be sure they had any relation to previous buildings on the site).   The area is not maintained as evidenced by the overgrowth on the sidewalk.  The sign leaning against the tree announces that this area is for bus parking.  Access for buses is on Bass.  Deep ruts ran through the soil, and though 
looked hard for evidence of previous building foundations, there were none extent.  The surface was not paved, but may have had a gravel paving at some point as much gravel was to be found on the site.  The second picture shows the top of the parking lot.  You can see a house still extant in the background, but there was a for sale sign on it.  Behind this lot was a sort of warehouse building and more parking.

The next two pictures are across the street from the bus parking lot.  They are the lots owned by Turner Field and adjacent to I-75 across from the stadium.  They are paved and equipped with waste bins.  The spaces are marked.  In the middle of the larger lot is a billboard, nobody cares if its in a parking lot, right?  On game day, attendants wave flags to get the attention of people looking for a place to park.  One thing that struck me was the sheer size of the lot.  The other was a latent sadness for the homes and neighborhoods destroyed by the creation of the highway, the decline of the extant neighborhood and the gaping void where the lot now exists.






Whitehall Street - Zone of Discard

This is Whitehall Street looking north and south from McDaniel Street.  Sanborn maps show this as a residential area until the 1930s, at which point most of the residences on the street had been replaced by warehouse buildings and manufacturing buildings.  A trolley ran down the street until about the 1940s.  Though the Sanborn maps did not show it I found pictures and references on-line to retail and even a hotel from the 30s and 40s.  Though I did not take a picture of it (because people were sitting out front) there seems to an SRO hidden behind one of the buildings.  I tried to show the street's proximity to the CBD in the other two pictures.  I think the overall neglect of the area is evident in the photos.  The buildings on the south side of the street are empty.  Not pictured are mounds of garbage in the spaces between  the buildings, most of which have asphalt on them and speak to ad hoc parking, long abandoned.  This may have been a viable street until about the 1950s when the neighborhoods it may have served were bulldozed to make way for the highway on its east side.  Running behind the blocks on its west side is train tracks, which are still in use.  The area abuts Castleberry Hills, which is in the process of revitalization.  On this end of Whitehall, revitalization is slow, but there are a couple of condo buildings, like Century Lofts (not pictured).  The fencing (including barbed wire and razor wire) everywhere speaks to a crime problem.  While photographing the area, a few people walked by, mostly homeless or indigent, but not all.