The street is special

By Darrell Laurant

Published: March 29, 2008

This time of year, nearly everyone is a friend of Rivermont.

Lynchburg’s signature street is beginning to bud and blossom, draping it in a colorful canopy of new bloom. That, plus the warmer temperatures, has enticed residents of all ages and sizes to emerge from their cocoons and begin to jog and power-walk the winter pounds away.

It was against this benign and perennial backdrop that the Friends of Rivermont — the group, not the warm, fuzzy feeling — gathered for its annual meeting at the Maier Museum last week.

It’s been several years now since the Friends fought for historic designation for the Avenue, a war of wills waged with bumper stickers and e-mails and tense City Council meetings. In March of 2002, a split City Council agreed to make Rivermont a historic district between the 300 and 3400 blocks.

This was how then-City Hall reporter Michael Hewlett began his story on that meeting:

“Anger and bitter disappointment switched sides Tuesday night when City Council voted 5-2 to make Rivermont Avenue the city’s sixth and largest historic district.

“Last July, when City Council defeated that same petition, those opposed came away enthused at their victory. Tuesday, they immediately left after the vote, clearly miffed, offering no comment.”

I could be wrong (and I’ll probably get some phone calls or e-mails telling me how wrong I am), but I haven’t noticed that landmark status resulted in landmark change. There was no stampede of historic district opponents away from Rivermont — most are still pounding the broad sidewalks and admiring the spring growth.

Fears that the preservation police would establish a reign of terror over home improvement seems to have been overstated, although vinyl siding remains an issue.

So what now? After its historic designation, Rivermont achieved membership in both the national and state historic registries. In subtle ways, the street is beginning to improve itself, especially along the frayed lower end. The specter of creeping blight appears to have been beaten back.

“We need to find some positive things to do now,” said Gerry Sherayko, Friends of Rivermont president and a Randolph College professor. “We need to move forward and engage the residents of the neighborhood.”

Hence, a scheduled tour of Riverside Park planned for this summer, followed by an ice cream social at the Miller-Claytor House. And a renewed emphasis on squads of weekend warriors to gather litter.

“We pick up trash between Huron and Cabell streets four times a year,” said Friends member Jan Garfield. “We could do it four times a day.”

Garfield and her husband, Robert came here from Chicago. Sherayko is from New Jersey. Like so many other transplants, they saw Rivermont Avenue and were immediately seduced.

“It’s really one of a kind,” said Sherayko.

Maybe that’s why Poplar Forest historian Travis McDonald was the speaker for last Monday’s meeting, to remind the assembled Friends — “old Lynchburgers” and pioneers alike — why their street is special.

Although he is most identified with Thomas Jefferson, McDonald has lived along Rivermont, and is steeped in Avenue lore and history. He knows that it’s so wide (the best street this side of the Champs

Elysees for making quick U-turns) because a streetcar line once ran down the middle. He knows it was one of the first planned communities in the country, and that the presence of a college, a hospital, an elementary school and a small area of retail shops didn’t happen by accident.

He also knows that the Rivermont Co., which built the Rivermont Bridge in the 1890s and launched its magnificent broad street into what was then the unknown, had pockets deep enough to attract wealthy home buyers, who in turn hired some of the city’s best architects.

“I’d put Lynchburg architecture up against up against any city in the country for that turn-of-the-century period,” McDonald said.

The Rivermont Co. eventually overextended itself and went bust, but the street it planted had taken on a life of its own.

A life that renews itself every spring. With or without vinyl siding.