Norman Street has been an important street in Salem for centuries, serving as an east-west way first to the harbor, then to the train station, and linking downtown and the city’s west-lying residential neighborhoods. It was once tree-lined, along with Georgian colonial houses interspersed with shops. It had a bit of a reputation as an American “Harley Street,” with several prominent physicians in residence, and it even has an eerie element, referenced by an entry in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s notebook for 1839 in which he recounts a story told to him by Custom House inspector William Pike, who “Another time — or, as I think, two or three other times — saw the figure of a man standing motionless for half an hour in Norman street, where the headless ghost is said to walk.” Norman street was also Samuel McIntire-central: Fiske Kimball asserted that the great architect and woodcarver was born at #21, and both his father and brother lived (and worked) on the street. Despite its heritage, and because of its continuous role as a central corridor, Norman Street was very vulnerable to one of the most dominant forces of the twentieth century: the car. From about 1930, it was transformed from a human-scaled city street into a wide suburban “connector,” a process that was intensified with the construction of two large buildings at its eastern and western ends, a new U.S. Post Office building and the headquarters for the Holyoke Mutual Fire Insurance Company. These buildings wiped out more than 50 residences on their side of the street and adjacent streets, even more after the Holyoke building’s expansion in the 1970s. On the north side of Norman, the New England Telephone Company initiated a similar cascade of demolition commencing several decades earlier. Business and residency had co-existed on Norman Street since Salem’s founding, but these larger businesses brought more workers and more traffic. The street was widened considerably, causing it to lose much of its residential charm, and one by one the remaining colonial houses fell, along with all of its trees. There is no question that the car was the major culprit in this unfortunate transformation, but Norman Street is also a study in how little control a municipality has over urban development if it does not have robust planning tools in place, or if it chooses not to utilize those tools. When I look at Norman Street today it appears that the City of Salem seems to have essentially written it off, leaving it to landlords and speeding cars. If you’re a preservationist or a pedestrian, Norman Street will break your heart, especially if you know what was there before.
Norman Street past.
Looking down (east) Norman Street in the 1880s and 1910s, Lee MSS & Frank Cousins slide, Phillips Library, Peabody Essex Museum; the Cox House, 1890s, Dionne Collection, Salem State University Archives & Special Collections. EIGHT LARGE BRICK OVEN FIREPLACES in the Felt House, an “antiquarian’s delight.” Looking west towards Chestnut Street, Lee MSS, Phillips Library and “Newsboys” at the corner of Washington and Norman Streets, c. 1910, Salem State University Archives & Special Collections. The very famous Mansfield House with its carved stair and mantel, Cousins photos and Boston Architectural College Yearbook for 1925; wallpaper from Dr. Cook’s famous house on Norman Street, the Magazine Antiques, June 1925; Postcard of the new Holyoke Mutual Fire Insurance Company headquarters at the corner of Summer and Norman Streets, 1936, SSU Archives & Special Collections; the Texaco station across the street, 1979, MACRIS; New condos at the northeastern end of Norman Street, 1982, Boston Globe and SSU Archives & Special Collections.
The last two photos of condo conversion and construction in the 1980s represent a positive change for Norman Street: the return of residents! The business blocks and setbacks, along with the widening of the street, have certainly left their mark, however, as you can see from the photographs below which I took this weekend. It’s hard to recognize this once charming street. A couple of years ago, I kind of got my hopes up for Norman, and that’s why heartbreak is in my title (and also the description of the Felt House above). Responding to the crush of traffic at the terrible intersection of Norman and Summer, the City installed a mini roundabout, and I thought this might be the start of a concerted effort to recognize the street as a proper entrance corridor, but no, it’s just a circle of fake brick in the middle of the road. Drivers still get so frustrated by this intersection that they tend to speed up before and after, which is why I’m always anxious about crossing Norman Street. Bordering this circle are beautiful Chestnut Street houses on the west side and the hulking former Holyoke building and an 18th century house with a strident 21st century addition on the east: this space sends a mixed message! Last summer, the weeds surrounding the Holyoke building reached up to its lower windows, and signs and litter are always strewn about. Its owner has had difficulty finding commercial tenants, and so part of the building (I think the original 1930s building) will now be consigned to a homeless center for families operated by Centerboard, the largest housing provider in Massachusetts. A proposed new housing development for the Texaco site across the street has just been granted significant tax credits by the Commonwealth, and so will now go forward. At the very least, this project (you can see a rendering here, but it’s from a couple of years ago) should eliminate that hole along the streetscape, but I hope the design does more than that. In fact, I think that this new building is Norman Street’s only hope.
Norman Street present.
It would be nice if that “Caution X-Walk Ahead” sign was positioned towards drivers in the street rather than pedestrians on the sidewalk.
