Another Great Article In The Republic
This is a great article I meant to post. Please see below or follow this link!
Courtesy of the AZ Republic:
Amid the change, signs old Scottsdale still exists
Apr. 27, 2006 12:00 AM
Lately, I drive through the city I've called home for decades and I hardly recognize the place.
Drive by where a Safeway used to be and you see the glitzy Waterfront rising from the dirt.
Drive by trendy Fashion Square and you see that Robinson's is going out of business and you remember when it was a store named Goldwater's in an open-air mall.
Drive by the spot where the Safari Resort used to be and you see the sign that heralds the arrival of the latest in lifestyles: live/work lofts.
"This," the developer tells a reporter, "is a current version of modern downtown desert living."
Downtown desert living, huh?
Well, it's said that home is where the heart is and that, surely, is fortunate. Otherwise, I might not recognize Scottsdale, so quickly is it changing.
Which is a good thing, I suppose. There's a lot to like about what's going on around town these days. Fancy new places. Fancy new people.
And yet at the same time it's sad to see the old Scottsdale go.
It used to be that you could get from one end of this city to the other in a few minutes. Now, it takes that long to get to the grocery store.
It used to be you could live among horses and feel as if you were living in the West. Now most of the city's horses are covered in bronze.
It used to be that the skyline in Scottsdale was where the mountains met the sky. Now, luxury condominium towers are rising all around us and soon I imagine Scottsdale's view of Camelback Mountain will be gone, unless you can buy a $700,000 condo.
As one Realtor recently told The Republic's Peter Corbett: "This is really the beginning of high-rise living in Phoenix. I really think this is what this town has been crying for (for) a long time."
Or maybe about.
But then this, apparently, is the price of saving the city.
Of course, change is inevitable. That's what the politicians and the developers tell us anyway.
And so the Kachina Theater is gone and there is the Galleria, slimmed down, at least, from a decade ago when it is was a pink elephant.
And so graceful Scottsdale High is gone, replaced by a conglomeration of non-descript apartments, offices and hotels that could be in any city in the country.
And so Los Arcos . . . er, well, never mind.
Of course, times change. If they didn't McCormick Ranch would still be home to cattle, and as you rode into Scottsdale, you'd still be greeted by signs warning that "Horses have the right of way."
But Scottsdale is changing so quickly that I sometimes wonder if there's a place anymore for the old ways and for those who loved so much of what this city used to be.
And yet if I look closely, I still can find signs in and around town that home is still home.
Camelback may soon be blocked by condos but there is still that one precise spot along Lincoln Drive where I swear I can see the profile of Abraham Lincoln in the camel's nose. (I've checked around and apparently I'm the only one who sees it and no, the road isn't named for Abe.)
Arcadia may be losing some of its grace as grand new mini-mansions begin to line the streets but they haven't been able to chase away all the charm. Exeter Street is still one of my favorites.
Scottsdale may have some of the most exclusive golf courses in the country but there is still the Coronado Golf Course, where you don't have to take out a loan to play a round.
The wide-open desert may be mostly gone, having given away to guard-gated neighborhoods that look as if they belong in Tuscany. But there are still places in this city where you can go and be reminded of what silence sounds like.
And there are still wonderful open spaces in the center of the city, though I worry about talk of transforming Papago Park.
As if you can improve on the natural beauty of the buttes with a restaurant and resort hotel.
I hope that as Scottsdale gets ever more carried away on this wave of redevelopment, we don't completely let go of what has made this city so special.
Downtown may be going upscale but there are still priceless pieces of the old hometown here and there are still people like Jim Brower, who, like his father before him, serves 'em up cold at Scottsdale's oldest tavern, the Coach House.
And Dick Ryan, who opened his Pottery Paradise in 1953, when the Galleria was just a cotton field. Today, you can still drop by and find him there and if you're lucky he'll offer you some ice cream and a chat.
That, to me, is Scottsdale.
Reach Roberts at laurie.roberts@arizonarepublic.com or (602) 444-6873. Read her blog at robertsblog.azcentral.com.
Drive by where a Safeway used to be and you see the glitzy Waterfront rising from the dirt.
Drive by trendy Fashion Square and you see that Robinson's is going out of business and you remember when it was a store named Goldwater's in an open-air mall.
Drive by the spot where the Safari Resort used to be and you see the sign that heralds the arrival of the latest in lifestyles: live/work lofts.
"This," the developer tells a reporter, "is a current version of modern downtown desert living."
Downtown desert living, huh?
Well, it's said that home is where the heart is and that, surely, is fortunate. Otherwise, I might not recognize Scottsdale, so quickly is it changing.
Which is a good thing, I suppose. There's a lot to like about what's going on around town these days. Fancy new places. Fancy new people.
And yet at the same time it's sad to see the old Scottsdale go.
It used to be that you could get from one end of this city to the other in a few minutes. Now, it takes that long to get to the grocery store.
It used to be you could live among horses and feel as if you were living in the West. Now most of the city's horses are covered in bronze.
It used to be that the skyline in Scottsdale was where the mountains met the sky. Now, luxury condominium towers are rising all around us and soon I imagine Scottsdale's view of Camelback Mountain will be gone, unless you can buy a $700,000 condo.
As one Realtor recently told The Republic's Peter Corbett: "This is really the beginning of high-rise living in Phoenix. I really think this is what this town has been crying for (for) a long time."
Or maybe about.
But then this, apparently, is the price of saving the city.
Of course, change is inevitable. That's what the politicians and the developers tell us anyway.
And so the Kachina Theater is gone and there is the Galleria, slimmed down, at least, from a decade ago when it is was a pink elephant.
And so graceful Scottsdale High is gone, replaced by a conglomeration of non-descript apartments, offices and hotels that could be in any city in the country.
And so Los Arcos . . . er, well, never mind.
Of course, times change. If they didn't McCormick Ranch would still be home to cattle, and as you rode into Scottsdale, you'd still be greeted by signs warning that "Horses have the right of way."
But Scottsdale is changing so quickly that I sometimes wonder if there's a place anymore for the old ways and for those who loved so much of what this city used to be.
And yet if I look closely, I still can find signs in and around town that home is still home.
Camelback may soon be blocked by condos but there is still that one precise spot along Lincoln Drive where I swear I can see the profile of Abraham Lincoln in the camel's nose. (I've checked around and apparently I'm the only one who sees it and no, the road isn't named for Abe.)
Arcadia may be losing some of its grace as grand new mini-mansions begin to line the streets but they haven't been able to chase away all the charm. Exeter Street is still one of my favorites.
Scottsdale may have some of the most exclusive golf courses in the country but there is still the Coronado Golf Course, where you don't have to take out a loan to play a round.
The wide-open desert may be mostly gone, having given away to guard-gated neighborhoods that look as if they belong in Tuscany. But there are still places in this city where you can go and be reminded of what silence sounds like.
And there are still wonderful open spaces in the center of the city, though I worry about talk of transforming Papago Park.
As if you can improve on the natural beauty of the buttes with a restaurant and resort hotel.
I hope that as Scottsdale gets ever more carried away on this wave of redevelopment, we don't completely let go of what has made this city so special.
Downtown may be going upscale but there are still priceless pieces of the old hometown here and there are still people like Jim Brower, who, like his father before him, serves 'em up cold at Scottsdale's oldest tavern, the Coach House.
And Dick Ryan, who opened his Pottery Paradise in 1953, when the Galleria was just a cotton field. Today, you can still drop by and find him there and if you're lucky he'll offer you some ice cream and a chat.
That, to me, is Scottsdale.
Reach Roberts at laurie.roberts@arizonarepublic.com or (602) 444-6873. Read her blog at robertsblog.azcentral.com.