

The “chocolate church” at Fifth and Negley was designed by Theophilus P. Chandler Jr., whose name always sounds to old Pa Pitt like the villain in a Marx Brothers farce. Chandler worked mostly in Philadelphia, but he also designed First Presbyterian downtown and the Duncan mausoleum in the Union Dale Cemetery.
This larger-than-life allegorical bronze sits over the entrance to the Soldiers and Sailors Memorial in Oakland.
You can make good money as a lawyer if you make the right contacts. Willis McCook was lawyer to the robber barons, and he lived among them in this splendid Gothic mansion on the Fifth Avenue millionaires’ row. The architects were the local firm of Carpenter & Crocker. It is now a hotel called the “Mansions on Fifth,” along with the house around the corner that McCook built for his daughter and son-in-law.
Pittsburghers are used to bricks and Belgian blocks, and most people who walk on Ellsworth Avenue past the entrance to this absurdly narrow little street probably never notice that these blocks are made of wood.
Wood-block pavements were very common in the 1800s. The “Nicolson pavement”—a pavement of wood blocks soaked in creosote—had some advantages over stone: cobblestones were horribly uneven, and Belgian block is expensive and hard on horses’ feet. Wooden pavement does not stand up well to heavy vehicular traffic, however, and almost all the Nicolson pavements are gone. There is one in Philadelphia, one in Cleveland, a badly decayed one in St. Louis, and three in Chicago, according to the Wikipedia article. But Roslyn Place is the only remaining street in America paved from beginning to end with wood blocks—although, to be fair, the beginning and the end are not very far apart. Here, in a quiet dead-end court, the traffic is light, and the blocks last for decades before they have to be replaced. Since the street is a historic district, we can be fairly confident that they will always be replaced with wooden blocks, as they have been in the past.
This fountain sits below the southwest entrance to the tower, across from the William Pitt Student Union.
This exceptionally fine Second Empire house sits at the end of a row, and therefore has two exposed surfaces for the architect to play with. Victorian architects did not like plain flat surfaces, and whoever designed this house lost no opportunity to vary the shape and texture.
If you happen to be building a house, ask yourself this question: Which small details of this building will passers-by stop and take pictures of a century and a half from now?