UPDATE 5/13/12: Well, it appears the Vikings will get a new stadium in the same spot. However, the ideas I present here would work at any mass transit node such as another stations along the line.
With all the recent talk about Vikings stadium proposals, one thing seems clear: the possibility that the current Metrodome gets torn down for a newer stadium on the same location is unlikely. The highest praise for the idea I have heard is that it’s “workable.” There is a distinct lack of parking capacity and the Vikings are not excited about the prospect of playing in the U of M’s TCF Stadium while the Dome is redone.
So, assuming the Vikings find another site to play at that will leave a huge question hanging in the air: “what will the fate of the Metrodome be?” All the monster truck rallies and stadium concerts it can hold would likely not make up for the revenue lost form the Vikings. I predict that if the Vikes go, the Dome goes as well.
This might seem like a sad thing; all the lost memories and the demolition of an iconic, for better or worse, landmark of Minneapolis. But hidden in this is a golden opportunity that could revolutionize the city and perhaps the way we build and rebuild cities in the future.
What I propose to replace the Metrodome with is Minneapolis’ first car-free neighborhood. Because this spot already has a light rail stop at it and will be the connection point to the Central Corridor line to St. Paul, and because it is also served by bus lines, it is uniquely positioned to serve the transportation needs of potential residents and visitors to the neighborhood without yielding to the noise, pollution, and spacial needs of cars. In a metro area severely under served by mass-transit, this spot stands out as adequate, even well-served. I would call it: The Humphrey Neighborhood, to continue to honor the man who was one of Minnesota’s greatest politicians.

The Dome as it is

My proposal for the “Humphrey Neighborhood”
To better understand this color-coded neighborhood, lets take a walk through it. Put on your imagination helmets, here we go! You can refer back to the above picture as a map and frame of reference as we go on our virtual tour. I have created a soundtrack to set the mood (the videos are inconsequential, it’s just the easiest way to link to music.)
The Light Rail
Starting at your departure from the light rail station, you will walk out onto Kirby Puckett Place, a large plaza. The sports sculptures have been left as a tribute to what was and street vendors and performers now frequent this space to take advantage of the constant stream of people coming and going between the neighborhood and light rail. Mixed-use commercial/multi-family housing (brown buildings) line the plaza. Lets walk now into the neighborhood. The first thing you will notice is the gateway arch (at the Northwest end of the two blue rectangles) welcoming you to the Humphrey neighborhood. It’s made from reclaimed steel from the old Metrodome, yet it has an elegant, artistic look, something that future generations will look at and still feel good about it.
Gateway Road
Lets move into the neighborhood. You are immediately struck by the meaning of car-free. No cars, trucks, motorcycles, or other motorized vehicles traverse the road.In there place are a multitude of bicyclists, pedestrians, and the occasional horse-drawn cart bringing goods in and out that are too heavy or bulky to be moved by hand. The road is wide enough for emergency vehicles to get through, should the need arise. You can see in the distance a gently rising hill crowned by a large fountain and this monument entices you to continue on towards it. The street is lined by attractive store fronts inhabited by a wide array of merchants (blue buildings). Above the shops are stately row houses, the only single-family residential buildings in the neighborhood. Many of the houses, as well as many of the buildings throughout the neighborhood, have greenhouses on top of them. Reclaimed steel beams from the old Metrodome, used in the construction of the buildings make the roofs strong enough for rooftop gardens and even aquaponics operations and the greenhouses provide year-round use. There are so many rooftop gardens in the neighborhood that an aerial view would look on mostly vegetation, with hardly any asphalt, roof tops, or any other impervious surfaces visible.
This is the most upscale part of the neighborhood. The welcoming shops urge visitors to venture further into the neighborhood and the people with the greatest ability to weather economic hardship act as neighborhood ambassadors for decades, helping to keep residents, visitors, and business people invested in the area. You notice that the landscaping is different than in other parts of the city. Raingardens take the place of normally flat boulevards and edible fruit and nut trees are planted alongside shrubs and ground cover in guilds. This makes the landscaping multi functional, including providing food and it is practiced throughout the neighborhood. Comfortable, wrought iron benches are abundant here as they are throughout the city and many people are taking advantage of them. Instead of tall, looming street lights, the road is lined with decorative lamp posts.

An example of nice row houses above commercial space
The Food Forest
You reach the end of the road and are standing across from a large central park. You make your way up the pathway (in red) to the fountain. It’s a nice sunny afternoon and the gentle rise of the hill makes for a perfect space for the many picnickers enjoying the weather. The fountain is wide, with many tiers of cascading water, which produces a calming noise that adds to the ambiance. To the Southwest is a lush forest (dark green). A sign reads, “Welcome to the Humphrey Food Forest. Feel free to explore and even partake in the bounty we have created here.” You stroll along the paths, pausing to admire the plants and wildlife and to read the placards that describe what a food forest is and other educational information. You learn that it is maintained my volunteers but free for everyone to share in the bounty of food, beauty, medicine, wood, and other resources. It is amazing how serene and quiet the food forest is, aside from the chattering birds. If you didn’t know better it would be hard to tell you were in the middle of Downtown Minneapolis.
The end of the path takes you back to where you entered and you decide to head in the other direction through the open field (light green). You can see from your vantage point that the whole park is lined by mixed use buildings (yellowish green) with commercial and light industrial shops on the ground level and apartment buildings above. A quick scan of the shops tells you that there is wide variety of enterprises that reside here; common commercial operations like restaurants, grocery stores, cafes, book stores, a movie theater, a shoe store, and clothing stores, but also a glass blowing operation, a tailor, a dentist, a furniture maker, and even a brewery. The buildings are nicely adorned in classic architectural styles and are between three and seven stories.

What mixed use apartments and commercial can look like
Farmers Market
You head towards a large building at the Northeast end of the park (yellow building). There is a large sign that reads “Four Seasons Farmers Market and Artisans Bazaar.” There are a plethora of farm stands arranged on the lawn in front of the market. You notice that there is a distinct lack of common fruits and vegetables for sale, like bananas, oranges, and the like. A vendor informs you that that is because the market focuses on food produced locally, which here means that the farmer can get it, on the same morning, from the farm to the market by opening time and that the stand is managed by the same people that pick and transport the food. You buy a bag of some of the most delicious cherries you have ever had and a couple of strange vegetables you are told are called romanesco. The vendor swears you will love it and even gives you a recipe for free, but you guess you will have to wait until you get home to see.
The Market/Bazaar
The music and smells of cooked food tempt you into the market/bazaar building. You walk past the railings that ring in the patio seating for restaurants that reside within the building. The market/bazaar is buzzing with activity. Jewelry and handbag makers, artists and clothing sellers are making their sales pitches, street musicians and jugglers are entertaining the crowd, the mood is decidedly energetic and upbeat. It is near dinner time so you look for some food to eat. The falafel kebab stand looks good so you get that and make your way to the tables and chairs that ring a large open space where musicians are playing and singing and colorfully costumed performers are doing a dance you haven’t seen before. The kebab is so good that you go back and ask the manager if there is another store located near your neighborhood. She laughs and tells you that his stand, and almost all the stands in the market/bazaar are one of a kinds; they exist nowhere else.
You exit near the Northern corner of the building and look across the road towards one of the two other gateways of the neighborhood (red areas). You decide to turn right and head Southeast down the road. The light rail runs right through this part of the neighborhood. You look to your left at the multistory apartment buildings (orange) and admire the architecture. These are nothing like the cheap looking wooden mega structures they slap together in the suburbs. Instead they are stone and brick and separate buildings, though they are built right up against each other.

What apartments can be
The Community Garden
You come near the end of the street and pause to admire the triangular community garden (plain green). A friendly gardener named Jerry tells you that this and other community gardens give access to growing space to apartment dwellers that otherwise would have trouble finding it and that it serves as a community meeting place, too. You ask about the architecture and why there are so many buildings all pushed together instead of large singular structures. Jerry explains that, “the idea is that this ensures that the buildings can have many more owners than if they were massive, monolithic structures, so if one building is mismanaged, there is less likelihood they all will be affected. The reason they are built with no space in between is to conserve heat and space that is generally wasted in detached structures.”
Jerry directs your attention to the set of buildings to the Southwest (gray). He tells you, “these are single-use condominiums, and the buildings to the Northwest are mixed-use commercial and apartments (yellowish green), and the ones across the street are single-use apartments (orange). The reason they are all mixed together instead of all one type of use or another is to keep the neighborhood diverse and therefore resilient. There are a full range of prices for the units, both renters and owners, and a wide array of ages and backgrounds of people that live in the neighborhood. This method of planning means that no one type dominates, so it neither becomes totally gentrified nor slides toward slums. Everybody has to deal with everybody every day, especially without cars to hide from one another in, so tolerance and an earnest willingness to learn about those different form you are prerequisite for getting by here.”
You thank him for his chat but before you can be on your way he stops you and says, “oh, wait. I have way more shallots than I know what to do with. Here,” he says as he deposits a bag in your arms. You try to explain that he should give them to someone who lives around here and you don’t even know what a shallot is or what to do with it but he dismisses your concerns and says, “they’re like onions and I have plenty for my neighbors, too. All of us around here are happy to share what we are proud of. Oh, and you should head over to the park, the music should be starting soon and you don’t want to miss that. Hope to see you around again! Bye!”
Feeling a bit confused you head right at the corner and start towards the park. You are about halfway there when something peculiar catches your eye. It appears that the alleys behind the backs of the buildings are enclosed in glass windows. The double doors at the entrance open and a horse steps out, pulling a cart behind it. The cart has a number of bins in it that look like trash cans as well as a pile of what looks like weeds and compost. You ask the cart driver what she is doing and she says, “well, without the use of trucks, we have decided to haul our garbage by horse cart. Someone had the forethought to put greenhouse roofs over all the alleys as well as wall off the ends in glass. This allows residents to compost their food waste year-round and makes the alley a lot nicer than traditional ones. We call them ‘Green Alleys.’ Why don’t you see for yourself, they’re open to the public”
You thank the cart driver and make your way into the alley. Indeed it is a much more pleasant place to be than a normal alley. Dirt strips line the walls of the buildings and bushes, flowers, and other plants are growing in them. There is pleasant lighting that is just coming on as the sun sets. Most of the trashcans have compost bins next to them (for more on Green Alleys, see my previous post).
The Concert
After exiting the alley, you turn once again toward the park. As you approach the fountain you can hear the music of the band Jerry mentioned. Indeed, a few hundred people are gathered in the park, sprawled out on blankets or playing on the lawn as the band plays a lively tune. The farm stands have been taken down for the day and in there place is the stage with the band and a large screen behind it. You sit down to enjoy the music as the sun slips slowly behind the skyscrapers of downtown Minneapolis. You are shocked to realize that this is the first time you have noticed them since coming to the Humphrey Neighborhood.
The Movie
The band winds down and you are about leave until you realize no one else is. You notice that what appears to be a movie projector has been wheeled out to the middle of the field and faces the screen behind the stage. A movie from the 40s, a comedy you have never heard of, begins to play. You laugh along with the crowd as you snack on the remainder of your cherries from the market.
Reflecting on the day
After the movie you make your way leisurely back to the light rail. As the train pulls away you think back on the day. You glance out the window and are surprised to notice just how many parking lots you pass, even in prime business locations. The car traffic you pass seems a little more irritating than before, even a little menacing. You realize that the Humphrey Neighborhood is one of the densest neighborhoods you’ve been in. Without the need for parking lots at every store and residence, and with the narrower thoroughfares and with the buildings built up against each other, there sure was a lot more room for other things. But, strangely, the neighborhood never felt cramped or over crowded. The buildings never seemed cold, imposing, or unfeeling. Instead they seemed warm and inviting and like they belonged where they were and they were at a scale that was large enough to feel enclosed and safe, but not so large that they felt intimidating. Your realize that you must have walked a couple miles at least, but you don’t feel tired. Maybe it was all the things to look at and experience along the way that made it seem easier. And what vibrancy! With all the food and music and friendly people, it is easy to see why people choose to live there. But you are left with one big question hanging in the air, “why aren’t all neighborhoods designed this way?”
OK imagination helmets off. I hope you stayed with me through that and have a much better understanding of what could be. But before I go, a few reality checks:
- For this type of neighborhood to work, the residents must be committed, otherwise it will suffer a long, slow erosion to the whims of the car, as has happened with places like the U of M Twin Cities campuses.
- There is the possibility that the Vikings will end up staying at the Dome site or that even if they leave that the Dome could be retained for other events. Even if this happens, it doesn’t make the overall idea of a car-free neighborhood or even city a lost cause. Though the Dome site is at the mass transit nexus of the Twin Cities, any stop along any of the routes would be suitable for this kind of ambitious experiment.
- Even the most committed, true-believer residents of the neighborhood would at some time likely need a car. However, they still don’t need to own a car and there are plenty of suitable parking lots nearby that could be turned into an Hour Car type operation.
- Goods must come in and out of the neighborhood and at some point will likely need motorized vehicle transport. To solve this I invite you to view the neighborhood as a kind of island. Transport trucks could dock at the edge and their wares could be unloaded onto horse carts or bikes for the rest of the journey and goods leaving the neighborhood could be loaded onto trucks at the same spot. This may seem like a sneaky work around to avoid the hazards of motorized vehicles while reaping their rewards, but I think not. If all the cities neighborhoods were like this there could still be surface streets around the perimeters for mainly commercial traffic. And because people would use private cars much less, traffic would be greatly reduced and safer, not to mention less costly to maintain.
- People who like cars may want to visit the neighborhood, where do they park? For the answer to this I direct you again to the ocean of parking lots in the surrounding area. If the need arises a parking deck will be built (car owners have a way of getting what they feel they need)
Even if this vision is never realized, we as a metro area need to seriously rethink the space and deference we give to the motor vehicle. Don’t believe me? Just take a virtual tour via Google Maps to any major business area of the Metro. Look at the amount of space devoted to parking lots and freeways and ever wider local roads, forcing the sad urban smile of gap-toothed development which further hinders business, pedestrians, and mass-transit users. The sad irony is that the more capacity we give to the car, the further apart things must be, and then the more space we need for the car, and so on. If the land unquestioningly given-over to this highly expensive, polluting, resource consuming, dangerous, addicting form of transportation is not the epitome of selfish, short-sighted, insanity, then I don’t know what is.
On that note, I welcome your feedback.
Until next time,
Dream on!
-The Daydreamer