Well, they’ve done it.
The University of Alabama, having declared it “surplus property,” has razed the Kilgore House – that glorious example of late-19th century Victorian domestic architecture, and one of the oldest, most significant buildings on campus.
And why? To make room for an eating plaza of some sort.
“So what?” you ask.
Well, as the late, great Douglas Jones – long-term A&S Dean, gentleman, scholar and ardent historic preservationist – used to say: “Let’s review the bidding.”
The Kilgore House was built in 1890 as the home for Bryce Hospital’s assistant steward, Charles Kilgore, a Civil War veteran. From 1905 through 1908 – before female students were allowed to live on campus – the house served as an informal dormitory and eating establishment for the young women, as well as for the University’s first female faculty member, Anna Hunter. This history made the house the only structure left on campus that was directly associated with the earliest days of co-education at the Capstone.
In 1971, the Kilgore House was acquired by the University as part of a land swap with Bryce Hospital, and for 25 years it served as the home of Alabama Heritage, the multi-award winning historical magazine published by The University of Alabama, UAB, the Alabama Dept. of Archives and History. (Full disclosure: I am married to the founding/former editor of AH.)
In 1988, the house was listed on the Alabama Register of Historic Places.
The house was architecturally significant, not only for being a fine, intact example of Queen Anne design, but also for a unique reason: Its basic construction and finely crafted interior woodwork were very likely the product of Bryce Hospital patients, overseen by Mr. Kilgore as an example of “work therapy.”
The Kilgore House provided a charming counterpoint to the Gorgas House and its grounds on the opposite side of campus. Both sat amid large academic, brick buildings and pavement and parking decks and thus provided a welcoming respite of green in the middle of an otherwise (hard-edged) built environment – a quiet reminder of what the 19th-century campus was like.
Instead of destroying its own irreplaceable heritage, here’s what the University could have done: It could have left the editorial offices of Alabama Heritage magazine in the building instead of moving them to Northport and renting additional space.
Or, in keeping with long-established historic preservation practices current all over the United States, it could have repurposed the house to incorporate offices and a gallery displaying photographs and memorabilia honoring the history of women at the University – their struggles to gain entrance, to achieve equal educational opportunities, and to live, study and teach on campus.
Such a storyline could have included the great breakthrough for women represented by the passage of Title IX, which finally allowed women to enjoy equal access to sports – leading to the resounding successes of this school’s much-heralded women’s gymnastics program, championship softball teams, the superb golf and tennis teams and women’s wheelchair basketball program, to mention just a few examples.
Finally, The University of Alabama could have followed the lead of the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill and the University of Georgia at Athens and – stepping back, taking its time and thinking through the options – it could have preserved this fine historic property as a reminder to all that this school actually has a worthwhile, complex history (apart from its notorious civil rights troubles) – and also that it takes more than red brick, limestone corniced, multi-storied, gargantuan academic buildings to make a truly welcoming and beautiful campus.
But, no, we needed a place to eat.
Plus, as recently announced by the University, we needed to spend $30 million on a baseball facility.
Here’s my question: Where was the University’s board of trustees during this whole sad affair?
George Wolfe is a professor emeritus of English at The University of Alabama.