People like old places. They like to live in places like Ghent in Norfolk, Virginia, and Logan Circle in Washington, D.C. They like to live in old houses—in white farmhouses in Vermont, brick mansions in Virginia, and in arts-and-crafts bungalows in Los Angeles. People like to visit old cities on vacation. They like Santa Fe, Provincetown, Mendocino, and Saugatuck. They like Rome, New York, Paris, and Kyoto. They like Brooklyn and Charleston and thousands of towns and cities and countrysides across America and throughout the world. They like ancient troglodytic hotels (Matera, Italy), and Greek Revival houses (Athens, Georgia). They like adobe houses in New Mexico, farmhouses in Ohio, and townhouses in Philadelphia.
Why? Why do people like old places? And why do old places matter to people? Do old places make people’s lives better and, if so, how?
Piazza Navona in Rome, Italy, occupies the site of a Roman circus and is one of the most popular tourist destinations in the world
Paul Edmondson/National Trust for Historic Preservation
This series of essays explores the reasons that old places are good for people. It begins with what I consider the main reason—that old places are important for people to define who they are through memory, continuity, and identity—that “sense of orientation” referred to in the 1966 book With Heritage So Rich, which led to the enactment of the National Historic Preservation Act. These fundamental reasons inform all of the other reasons that follow: commemoration, beauty, civic identity, and the reasons that are more pragmatic—preservation as a tool for community revitalization, the stabilization of property values, economic development, and sustainability.
The notion that old places matter is not primarily about the past. It is about why old places matter to people today and for the future. It is about why old places are critical to people’s sense of who they are, to their capacity to find meaning in their lives, and to see a future.
I am an unabashed advocate for keeping, saving, and continuing to use old places. Immense and overwhelming economic and political forces cause the destruction of old places at an astonishing pace every minute of every day. We see it in the loss of treasured places both large and small. From the removal of a single, gnarled pear tree that has delighted us with its bloom in the spring and its fruit in the fall, to the inexcusable demolition of public buildings such as schools and churches that give our communities their identity, we are steadily losing our old places. The loss is a soul-destroying severing of people from place, identity, and memory.
The Sloan House in Davidson, North Carolina, contributes to the beauty and charm of the town
Tom Mayes/National Trust for Historic Preservation
There are many critics of the idea of saving old places. Some say that saving old places stifles economic growth and that historic preservation has become too strong a force. They say that preservation is out of balance with the need for change. I see no evidence whatsoever that the forces of preservation in the United States pose a threat to the capacity of the United States to have a vibrant and strong economy. Quite the contrary, old places actually seem to increase creativity and economic growth.
Are there things we should do better? Yes. Are there disagreements among the people who work to save old places? Yes. Are there arguments about what we retain and how we retain it? Yes. There should be. But the fundamental point remains: the history, memory, and continuity provided through old places are necessary for our self-worth—and are good for people.1
A streetscape in the Butchertown neighborhood in Louisville, Kentucky
Andy Snow
Note
1. A note about terminology: I use the term “old places” throughout these brief essays because the term includes not only places that are officially determined to be historic through the National Register of Historic Places or state or local designations, but also the majority of old places in America, most of which are not officially designated. The term also includes places that are not buildings—it captures streets, landscapes, gardens, farms, archaeological sites, cemeteries, and the many other old places that people value. I have also consciously avoided using terms that create an emotional distance between people and place, such as the term “historic resource.”