Up and Down My Alley

Andy is here today in OurLittleCorner.

My topic today is the result of a convoluted set of word associations. It started with my lame attempt at humor in my previous blog when I claimed that the book “Bowling Alone” was “right up my alley.” This prompted the following comment from our friend Peter:

Peter’s musings took me back to my childhood days in Chino where alleys were somewhat akin to Brer Rabbit’s briar patch. To outsiders they were uninviting and a bit nasty, but to us neighborhood kids they were familiar shortcuts to friends’ houses, places to find treasures in neighbors’ trash, and an occasional refuge from the watchful eyes of adults.

Of course, being out of the gaze of adults was not always that comfortable. Like the time when my friend Bobby and I were headed down an alley to the outdoor courts at the local school to shoot some hoops. I think that we were about 7 or 8 years old at the time. Just as we were walking by the backyard fence of Mrs. Hungerford, a scary older neighborhood women who was not fond of us kids hanging out in the alley, we ran into two bigger kids – Buddy and his brother whose name I have forgotten – coming out of a shed facing the alley (you may remember Buddy the bully from an earlier blog).

Buddy grabbed our basketball and said we could have it back only if we would eat some spider webs (which were abundant in that old shed). Thinking back on this, making us eat spider webs as a right of passage was a pretty lame idea and was probably indicative of Buddy’s neanderthal-like mental capacity. But, even though he and his brother were thugs, they were men of their word and after watching us chew some dusty cobwebs they tossed the ball back to us and let us go on our way.

My alley days ended when I was 13 and our family moved to a newer house in an area of Chino where there were no alleys. At first it felt weird to think that the trash pickup was in front of our house and that our garage faced the main street, but after a while it seemed like that was just the way it always was. I’ve only recently learned that at that time the golden age of alleys in America was on its way out.

According to Alleys in Urban Design: History and Application (which I found on an urban planning website) alleys proliferated in the 19th century as a means to hide the “less attractive functions of urban life” such as stabling horses and storing trash. However, during the American boom in suburban development following WWII, existing alleys were being neglected and designs for new housing projects were excluding alleyways.

Why did alleys fall out of favor? For one thing, they had a pretty bad reputation. I found this colorful description on a blog site devoted to the preservation of alleys and stables in Washingon D.C:

In addition to these perceived “few appellations,” automobile ownership played a major role the demise of alleyways. Not only did the automobile become the predominant mode of transportation, it grew to be a major status symbol. “As such, home designs began to feature front loaded garages, allowing the automobile to be proudly displayed for all to see.” Alleyway garages (along with their horse stable predecessors) became passé. In addition, government spending and policy focused on building high-speed and high-traffic infrastructures to the neglect of other kinds roadways. In short, alleys were dismissed as costly wastes of space.

But as it turns out, alleys hadn’t come to the end of their road (so to speak). As the 21st century got under way, they were being rediscovered. Urban planners began considering benefits of alleyways, including walkability and mixed use development. This became a very big deal not only for planning new living areas, but for repurposing existing but long neglected alleys. For example, an article entitled The American Alley, Part 1: A Hidden Resource (published by StrongTowns.org) points out that the city of Chicago alone has 1,900 miles of underused alleys – enough to stretch from Chicago to Los Angeles. And downtown Seattle could increase its usable public space by 50% by incorporating existing alleyways in its planning.

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Urban planners are offering a variety of idyllic suggestions for creating new communities with alleyways and, where alleys already exist, transforming this “hidden resource” into a public good that’s ascetically pleasing as well as safe and environmentally sound. The list of purported benefits for revitalizing alleyways or creating new ones is impressive. Car garages can be off the main roads making it safer for sidewalk pedestrians and traffic in general. Firefighters will have added access to buildings in emergencies. Plus, such revitalization will enhance a feeling of community by encouraging casual backyard socializing.

As wonderful as this all sounds, I can’t help but worry about the children. How will future generations learn to become independent, well-adjusted adults? Where else can kids learn on their own how to cope with interpersonal strife, yet be close enough to home base to feel secure? Where else can kids experience the thrill of finding exotic treasures amongst their neighbor’s trash? How will kids learn first hand about the diverse world around them without being able to peek into their neighbors’ back yards?

I know that times have changed and that I shouldn’t assume that my childhood experiences fit in with today’s world. But Googling that street view of my old alley in Chino and finding that it’s still kind of seedy gives me hope. I can imagine the neighborhood kids hanging out in that alley and learning the ins and outs of growing up. Let’s just hope that some urban planner doesn’t convince the city that it is time for “green” alleys in Chino.