My Redacted Life: Chapter 20

“What’s with you?” someone asked at the office next morning. “You look like you just inherited a fortune.” I didn’t answer, just went about my work. We had received another round of funding for the Hope urban renewal project and it was time to start work on the design manual. To this end, the firm had arranged the temporary loan of a young architect from one of the state’s largest firms. It would provide a unique opportunity for me to benefit from high-quality professionalism.

His name was Charles Witsell, a native of Little Rock and a graduate of Washington University in St. Louis, Missouri. He would become one of the leading experts on the history of architecture in Little Rock. He was talented, brilliant, and generous, and I was going to have the opportunity to work with him.

I couldn’t believe my good fortune. Working with one of the state’s most brilliant young architects and getting ready for a date with one of the state’s most beautiful women. It couldn’t get much better than this.

Oh yes it could. I received another raise. I was headed for the big time. My head could hardly fit through the office door.

I took to having “lunch walks” with Charles Witsell. He would tell me about the buildings in Little Rock, their origin, and their architectural history. Once, when he had to go home at lunch for some reason, I rode with him. He and his wife, Becky, were restoring one of the most architecturally significant homes in the original section of Little Rock. Later, a photo of him and Becky at work on a staircase in the home would appear in an issue of National Geographic.

The Fredrick Hanger House:
The Witsells' original home.

That day, though, he treated me to a quick driving tour of the area known locally as “The Quapaw Quarter.” The highway department, following a never-ceasing strategy of sacrificing neighborhoods to the motorized vehicle whenever possible, had severed the area into two parts with Interstate 30. Much of the western portion remained and our trip proved instructive.

He demonstrated the impact of topography in the settlement patterns of the original city. They couldn’t afford total separation of the social classes in the olden days. Someone had to take care of the mansions and the folks who lived in them. Domestic workers had to live within walking distance of their employing families. Topography, along with social class were the founding principles of human settlement.

Higher was better in those days for two reasons, health and flooding. The higher elevations meant less exposure to unhealthy air and insects. The higher elevations also provided more protection from the periodic rampages of the Arkansas River and its nearby tributaries. So the rich lived the high life and the poor lived the low life. Some things never change.

We motored along street after street, observing clusters of magnificent homes. As the streets serving them would drop in elevation, the homes would drop in size. It was a good lesson in how cities settle, and it helped me understand my profession better.

It also germinated a seed inside me that would grow into a lasting preference for the old versus the new. I had no idea at the time that another person who loomed large in my life, already held those feelings. It might prove important.

Life is both funny and interconnected at times. I was about to find out to what degree.