Pitaland has been a fixture on Brookline Boulevard for decades now. It is a store where you can find all kinds of Lebanese specialties. It is a lunch counter with a national reputation. And it is a bakery supplying pitas to supermarkets and restaurants all over the Pittsburgh area. Here is where the pitas come from: sixteen seconds of pitas rolling out of the oven, all puffed up and steaming.
You can go to Wikimedia Commons for a full HD version of the video.
Before.
After.
Preservationists fought a losing battle to save these buildings, not because any one of them was an architectural masterpiece, but because the 100 block of Market Street was one of the few remaining blocks downtown lined with mid-Victorian buildings on both sides. They predated not only the skyscraper age but also the age of six-storey commercial palaces that preceded the skyscrapers.
If there is any silver lining to the demolition, it is that the open space allows a full view of the buildings on the other side of the street, without resorting to too much photographic trickery.
Not that old Pa Pitt has ever been above photographic trickery, as he demonstrated a few months ago with a picture of the whole block of condemned buildings before they came down:
The entire length of Wood Street, from Fort Pitt Boulevard in the foreground to Liberty Avenue at the other end.
One of these two apartment buildings was almost certainly designed by architect Charles Geisler for the developer Oscar Larson, and old Pa Pitt is inclined to think that both of them are Geisler’s work. Charles Geisler lived nearby in Beechview, and Dormont and Mount Lebanon are peppered with buildings he designed. These fit his style—patterned brickwork and bracketed overhangs being two of his favorite tricks.
This grand Gothic complex was one of two Presbyterian churches that stood on opposite corners of the same intersection. The other one was the First United Presbyterian (old Pa Pitt will probably never tire of that joke, which the Presbyterians hand to him on a silver platter). Eventually the United Presbyterian congregation united with this one, which is now known as the Presbyterian Church of Coraopolis, though it seems to have used the name Coraopolis Presbyterian relatively recently, when it picked the domain name for its Web site.
The current lavish building was put up in 1929, as we learn from a postcard on the church’s history page, at a cost of $315,000 including furnishings.
The Western Theological Seminary (now West Hall of the Community College of Allegheny County) was built in 1914. It was designed by Thomas Hannah, but so far old Pa Pitt has not found the name of the sculptor who decorated the entrance with these delightful grotesques.
Even though it is on the grounds of a parish that is still open, with a school that is still open, this glorious Second Empire building is abandoned and crumbling, with scraggly Trees of Heaven—the badge of abandonment—taking root all around it. In its current state it looks like a drawing by Charles Addams.
The Red Line has been closed between South Hills Junction and Potomac for extensive reconstruction. The workers did not dally: as soon as the line was closed, it was covered with construction equipment, and Pittsburgh Regional Transit has posted signs at all the shuttle-bus stops informing us that the line will reopen on schedule September 1. Here we see the Hampshire Avenue grade crossing under reconstruction.
This road looks about as closed as it can get.
Newly laid track at the Westfield stop, whose platforms have also had extensive work. The track is Pennsylvania Broad Gauge, a relic of the laws that prohibited streetcar companies from using standard-gauge track out of well-founded fear that a secret deal with the railroad companies would send freight trains down the middle of city streets.
New track along Suburban Avenue.
Father Pitt is fairly certain that the insect enjoying the pollen of this Cosmos sulphureus flower is a Pennsylvania Leatherwing (Chauliognathus pensylvanicus), a common kind of soldier beetle that prefers yellowish flowers that match its own snazzy uniform. He is always delighted to be corrected, however, by someone with more entomological expertise than he has.
This building was put up in two stages. It was built in 1902 as a seven-story building; two years later six more floors were added. Originally it had a cornice and a Renaissance-style parapet at the top, without which it looks a little unfinished.
From The Builder, April 1904. The architect, as we see in the caption, was James T. Steen, who had a thriving practice designing all sorts of buildings, including many prominent commercial blocks downtown. This was probably his largest project.
