It houses one of the Dayton region’s greatest architectural treasures. It’s a vital public space in the center of downtown, linking key hubs like the Dayton Arcade and Schuster Center.
But it’s said to be a shell of what it once was and what it could be again, sparking plans for a radical re-visioning.
So what’s up with Courthouse Square?
The site has a fascinating history including other stately buildings that were razed in the 1970s for the current Courthouse Square.
But although there have been plenty of accounts detailing how the plaza itself came to be, not many have told the full story of how massive and controversial the overall development on the square actually was, and how much of a risk it represented for downtown at the time.
Some of the issues discussed then echo the debates we’re still having today about the identity of downtown Dayton.
History of Dayton’s Courthouse Square
Although today’s Courthouse Square is radically different from what stood there before, the one constant that does remain is Dayton’s Old Courthouse.
This architectural treasure was completed in 1850 after a lengthy process spanning three years and a court case over ballooning costs. The design was patterned after the Temple of Hephaestus in Athens, Greece which dates to the 5th century BC. It was built with Dayton Formation limestone quarried and transported by mule cart from just outside town.
When it was finally completed it became one of the most iconic structures in the region and one of the best surviving examples of Greek Revival architecture in the entire United States. Its steps have been the site of many presidential speeches over the years, from Abraham Lincoln to John F. Kennedy, Ronald Reagan, and Bill Clinton.
The former neighbors of the Old Courthouse, however, no longer stand. To the west of it on Third Street was the old Montgomery County jail built in 1874. This building was much larger and more ornate than the previous jail that had been located at Sixth and Main, and included a striking mansard roof.
And just a few years later, a significantly bigger “new” courthouse was built directly to the north of the old courthouse in 1884.
The three-story, Second Empire structure was connected to the Old Courthouse via a hallway. These buildings would serve as county courts until the 1960s when today’s Montgomery County Courthouse was built just down the street.
Courthouse Square’s Great Transformation
Walking through Courthouse Square today, you can easily see the plaza spaces where the lost jail and courthouse once stood. But to get a true sense of the scope of the 1970s redevelopment project, you need to look up.
Dayton’s second tallest building, the then-Mead, more recently Keybank Tower, was also built as part of the Courthouse Square redevelopment along with two other major structures. And aside from the old courthouse, the entire area bounded by 2nd, Main, 3rd, and Ludlow was demolished, which involved the displacement of dozens of businesses and bitter divides over the effects this would have on downtown.
The overall project was described by the Journal Herald as “an unusual combination of public and private financing” which meant that “major decisions are made in secret, then ratified in public.”
It was also a combination of a push for public park space and a later urban renewal plan for a major business development in the center of downtown.
The park aspect of the project came together due to the impending move of government functions from the historic courthouses to the new county facilities down the road. Along with some uncertainty over the fate of the old courthouse, there was a rumor that “someone might try to save as open space the L-shaped tract” around it and turn it into public park space. But there were also bids from Dayton’s business elite to purchase the land for development, including a $1.3 million offer from Arthur Beerman.
County commissioners found those offers hard to turn down in favor of “giving over the land for nothing but public park space.” The park idea evolved into a Montgomery County Historical Society proposal to save and restore the courthouse and turn it into a “a museum surrounded by trees and fountains.” After a debate that even included an Ohio Supreme Court Case, the county would ultimately lease the building to the historical society in 1972 after moving to its new building.
Soon after, the business side of the project emerged publicly when “crusty old John W. Galbreath strode into city hall to formally announce plans for the biggest single downtown development in the city’s history” in October 1973.
But Galbreath and Mead Corporation chairman James W. McSwiney had turned to the city early that year, and city commission “secretly agreed to support the project” that summer. Then after the public announcement, “the city went through the motions of conducting public hearings on an irreversible decision.” One article described the project as “turning over an entire downtown city block to an out-of-town developer, and not just any downtown block, but the one block which businessmen and planners agree is the keystone to downtown.” (Felton)
The development was supported by a group of Dayton business leaders, who “exerted pressure on the rest of the business community to accept Courthouse Square.” The city “contended that downtown will explode with thousands of new jobs” once it was built, but “admitted (that) the figures are merely guesses.” (Felton) A Journal Herald poll found that Dayton citizens were evenly divided on the project.
The director of the Dayton Development Council, Dudley Kircher, said that “Courthouse Square will be a sign of progress, a sign that Dayton is a very healthy city for business.” He cited NCR cutbacks as contributors to a negative image of the city, and that Mead’s commitment was the single most important factor: “If we had lost Mead to the suburbs or to another city, it would have been one of Dayton’s own giving up on the city. That would be a major setback for the city.” (Square Plan)
The development would eventually total $56 million, including the Mead Tower, DP&L Building (now Courthouse Plaza SW) and Elder-Beerman Building (today housing CareSource, Area Agency on Aging, PNC Arts Annex, post office, and CVS).
The city paid about $30 million for two parking garages at Ludlow and Second and West Third, walkways and more plaza space, and also agreed to freeze property taxes on the block for 20 years. $13 million was used to buy land, demolish buildings, and relocate businesses to new locations.
Over 30 merchants were displaced by the development, and the Rev. Richard Righter called the tax abatement “an $18 million giveaway benefiting big businesses.”
Nearby retailers also expressed concern, but their worry was that “hippies would hang out on the plaza.” (Kline)
The King Cole restaurant was described as “the one prize downtown the city said it couldn’t afford to lose.” It made a “desperate effort” to keep it downtown, buying its two buildings for $1.7 million and finding a spot in the Winters Bank Tower (Kettering, Stratacache Tower) for the restaurant.
Other prominent Dayton figures contributed to the planning of the plaza. Virginia Kettering personally hired architects to prepare “a park plan for a people-oriented space.” Some elements of her plan, including an outdoor café and a 20-foot-high waterfall, were ultimately not built. (Kline) Kettering also conceived of the annual Dayton Holiday Festival still held annually at Courthouse Square.
The demolitions greatly affected the character of the center of downtown. The new plaza was dedicated in 1974, while the Mead, DP&L, and Elder-Beerman buildings were completed in late 1976 to early 1977. The last building to be demolished was the old DP&L building and that site was turned into additional plaza space including the now-vacant basement level designed by Lorenz & Williams, where twin underground restaurants Jacques and Sherlock’s Home opened in 1979 after substantial delays.
The first tenant to move into the Mead Tower, investment firm Green and Ladd, actually moved in before the old DP&L building directly next to it was razed in early 1977, giving its employees a front row seat to the demolition which was described as “a spectator sport.” Workers gathered together and “watched the building being pummeled with the iron ball” while one inquisitive employee fascinated by the show started “fidgeting with his digital computer trying to determine how heavy the wrecking ball is.” At one point a stockbroker looked out his window and “saw a crumbling wall coming towards him” instead of falling the opposite way as it was supposed to. It crashed into the Mead Tower lobby, breaking several windows and causing other damage.
There was also a curious indifference to the loss of the 1884 “new” courthouse that at times delved into outright hostility. One account referred to its “gross proportion and inferior design,” while in 1972 a county commissioner actually proposed demolishing it in front of the public during the downtown Christmas festival. In response, columnist Bob Batz quipped a predication that “the wrecking ball will take another shot at the courthouse but it will miss and flatten the 12-foot Christmas tree at Third and Main. Then Santa will arrive riding on a bulldozer and the ponies at the Main St. pony ride will panic and go galloping wildly through the streets.”
The before and after images below show the radical changes to Courthouse Square. In part two of this story I’ll pick up where we left off with the fate of Courthouse Square in the years following, including the debates over its current state today and ongoing efforts to revitalize it anew.
Read Part 2 of my article series: Courthouse Square’s Resilience: Challenges and Possibilities for Tomorrow
Before and after of the NE corner of Third and Ludlow
Before and after of the SW corner of Main and Second
Another view looking toward the same corner from the middle of the block on Main. The iconic Rike’s Department Store is visible across 2nd Street where the Schuster Center now stands.
Sources
“The Square: Stakes and Risks are High but City Feels It’s Worth the Bet” John Felton, Journal Herald, 10/14/74
“Square Plan Will Change Face of City’s Downtown” Journal Herald 12/11/73
“The Square: From Rumor to Reality Benjamin Kline” Dayton Daily News, 7/1/89
“Please Mr. Cloud, Stay Your Hand for Christmas” Dayton Daily News 11/15/72
“Mead Tenants Watch DP&L Crumble Away” PJ Bednarski, Journal Herald, 2/24/1977
Historic Images Courtesy of Dayton Metro Library
Great piece, Andrew.
As one who witnessed much of this, I can only say it indicates how little most developers understand about how citizens see and use their city. While the new block did thrive for a time in the late 70’s, it fell into a familiar disuse by the late 80s and is now limping along, event per event. Certainly bright spots have emerged, like the PNC Arts Annex and the International Peace Museum, but that essential spark of life that informs large cities seems to have become so far elusive, given the exit, years back, of Mead, the loss of nearly all retail on the block, and now even the primary bank tenant that replaced Mead. I watched the buildings along West 2nd being demolished (a nightly spectacle with flood lights and geysers of water to keep the debris down) and remember the feeling of waste. At least the great landmark courthouse remains, adorned by a hodgepodge of added sculptures, a broken fountain, a large sea of paving tiles, aging planted trees, and an empty sub-level of restaurant space. Surely Dayton deserves much more intelligent and knowledgeable steering on this vital block of Downtown.
I remember many of these buildings! I especially remember that Chinese restaurant in the basement at Second and Ludlow. It had a red canopy over the entrance and you went down a few steps. Didn’t seem like a basement. In any case, as I recall the decor was mostly red. As a kid I learned to eat and love Chinese food there.