Penrose Jackson, former Executive Director of the Church Street Marketplace

In late August 1981 we were scrambling to complete construction in time for an early October opening celebration. Would the glass for the canopies arrive in time? Would we be prepared with entertainment and in-store fun for the thousands of people we hoped would come to help us celebrate? Would those people, in fact, come?

How did we arrive at those anxiety-filled days of late summer, 1981?

January, 1980 – the Board of Aldermen appointed the first Church Street Marketplace District Commission. After extensive interviews, they invited Paul Wickes on as chair to bring his governmental, planning and legal expertise. Ralph Cramer, general manager of the Chittenden County Transportation Authority, was asked to join to secure our link to the federal funding agency, erstwhile UMTA (Urban Mass Transportation Administration). Dick Corley brought his entrepreneurial spirit and connections to Burlington’s banking community. Parnell Kirby, manager of the J.C. Penney store then on Church Street, and Hertzel (Hecky) Pasackow from another Church Street landmark ladies’ store, The Mayfair, brought their wisdom as retailers and soothed fears of the many storeowners who dreaded two years of construction.

Faced with the daunting task of designing and building the Marketplace (and replacing all the subsurface utilities, a $1.9 million feat in and of itself), the Commission met for the first time on January 7. Their first task was to hire a head staff person. I had worked on the planning phase of the Marketplace for nearly two years and was the person most conversant with Church Street, UMTA, City Hall and the planning process to date. I was only 32 years old. I had no construction experience save helping my husband line a cedar closet. I was unknown to most of the new commissioners. They swallowed hard and hired me . . . and I began what will always be the most exciting, challenging, exasperating, frustrating and educational job of my life.

In due time C.E. Maguire and Carr, Lynch Associates were hired as the engineering/architectural team and Pizzagalli Construction Company came on board as construction manager. Unlike today’s typical construction manager, Pizzagalli did none of the construction themselves; they were, essentially, the clerk of the works.

Then, in March of 1980, the Commission swallowed hard another time – could they begin construction that year? Inflation was high and loss of a year could mean a significant loss of spending power. Our kitty had $1 million from the City and $5.3 million from the federal government. Could it be done? At a pivotal meeting the Commission, its staff (me) and folks from Maguire and Pizzagalli agreed that we wouldn’t cry uncle until we had to. That day began a marathon experience of seven day weeks full of long days for commissioners, staff and contractors through utility design, permitting, bidding and more. On July 7, six months from the date of the first Commission meeting, we began construction.

Rather than have a typical ground breaking, we assembled an impressive cast of folks to tie a large ribbon across Church Street at Main to officially close the street to begin construction. A few moments later one of the first scoops from a backhoe severed a telephone trunk line: an inauspicious start for a project that ran amazingly well.

Specific memories of design and construction have collapsed into a pastiche of images: trips to Connecticut and Boston to meet with designers and engineers, negotiations with building owners regarding vaults that extended under the former sidewalk, selection of public art pieces (the most controversial being female “shapes” that morphed into the deer and bear that sit in front of City Hall today), weekly project meetings in the Pizzagalli trailer that sat on a lot on Bank Street (most recently occupied by the Porteous store), “decorating” the Street during the 1980 holiday season with pine trees “planted” in sewer tiles, the skill of the backhoe operators, temporary bridging to allow stores to remain open, the hair stylist twice struck with a water interruption as she began to wash permanent solution from – yes – the same client’s tresses, “Perseverance” awards to store and building owners who had endured stressful construction challenges, moving the street vendors from place to place, the musical clink of the bricks as they were installed during the summer of 1981, a Saturday entertainment series on “the longest stage in the East,” and so much more.

As construction progressed, the Commission and I needed to plan how to manage the Marketplace once it was “up and running.” Before my time, early project planners had envisioned the Marketplace as a managed environment in terms of maintenance, appearance and activities. That meant we needed to figure out how to keep our beautiful new environment clean and, in the winter, ice free. We would have trees to prune and plants to water. There would be public art – banners and bronze, steel and neon sculptures, the largest xerox copy in the world (on a blank wall on the Cherry Street side of what today is Borders) – to take care of.

Not only did we have to concern ourselves with our own activities, but we also had to develop special Marketplace sign ordinances to allow on-canopy signs, sandwich board signs and banners. We found ourselves embroiled in issues around licensing street entertainers. We worked with street vendors who had already been on Church Street (Lois Bodoky and Dick Rogow are still a part of that scene today!) to develop standards for new vendor carts, along with licensing processes and fees. Proudly, that effort resulted in a complement of street vendors that was, and is, first class; our efforts were applauded with an award from the International Downtown Association.

Even as the backhoes chugged and miles of telephone and electric lines were being laid, we began discussions around sidewalk cafés. From the first, cafés were envisioned as an integral part of the summer scene on the Marketplace. How would they be regulated? What design standards, if any, would control their appearance? What fees would the City collect?

Amidst digging, designing, brick-laying and planning for the future, we also had a party to plan, the grand opening of the Marketplace. The Commission, its staff (which now also included Joyce Wasson as publicity and promotion chief and Kerry Duame as our do-everything helpmate) and other volunteers were aided by the expert hand of Dee Pomerleau. We planned a party with a parade, balloons (including a balloon launch of thousands of colored orbs from the lower doors on City Hall), clowns and great food and entertainment on all four blocks and in store promotions. We sent out invitations and advertised in the media.

Would people come?

YES! Thousands came to enjoy the nearly complete Marketplace, including a sole protester whose placard read, “Six million dollars for this?” Interestingly, the very first injury occurred during the celebration when a reporter twisted her ankle (not a single construction worker or pedestrian injury had occurred during construction).

The next Monday, it was back to work to complete punch lists, pay the final bills, pack up the construction trailer, and, for many of the workers, to head for the woods in early November for hunting season. For those left behind, the commission, staff, merchants and building owners would continue to work on promotions, debate fees, manage the day-to-day needs of our very special four blocks . . . work that will never end.

I had a very special privilege for 13 years – to be part of the final planning and then manage the construction of the Marketplace, and then to follow those efforts with helping design the programs that keep it alive. Molly Lambert followed me for 7 years – only two managers in 20 years. I hope we’ve left a mark that people value. I applaud the continuity the Commission has brought and wish current and future Commissions, and Ron Redmond, all the best on our Marketplace’s twentieth anniversary.
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