Word around Santa Rosa’s Railroad Square is that the SMART train has turned the district into a “Destination,” using the capital D of the tourism industry.
And nary a winery in sight.
The “train people,” as one veteran shop owner termed the new visitors, seem to consider themselves “on an outing” — a little better dressed, much less hurried, more relaxed than the usual shoppers.
They arrive on the train, cruise through the stores in a leisurely manner, have lunch and, three hours later, take the “down train” home to Novato, San Rafael or points south.
And what’s more, they come back fairly often, having staked out their favorite restaurants and shops within an easy walk of the station.
I don’t know that this was one of the expectations for the return of the passenger train. Certainly, it was not anticipated so quickly. That’s the good news.
The bad news, as reported earlier this month, is that a 250-plus-unit development in SMART’s rail yard intended to provide affordable housing and boost train ridership, has fizzled.
It was the third “ambitious plan” for the area west of the tracks or on the old cannery site to be greeted with enthusiasm and then collapse since 2000.
But, true to its name, the shopping district with the railroad in its name just keeps chugging along.
IT’S NOT “big money” from out of town that has kept things going. Nor, sad to say, is it the promises city government has not been able to keep.
It’s the “pioneers” of the newly named Railroad Square of the mid-1970s. These brave souls, armed with a little capital and a lot of commercial courage, imagined, invested and revitalized an area known as “Lower Fourth Street” that had slid into a skid row — streets of vacant buildings, flophouse hotels, a perpetual rummage sale in the old macaroni factory and a number of bars that advertised “We Cash Pay Checks,” which is never a good sign.
In the ’70s it was about to be cut off from Courthouse Square and the uptown department stores by a six-block-long solid wall of shopping mall.
Vehicle access to the west side of town would be reduced to one grim underpass which, from the day it opened seemed dark, dirty and dangerous, or an S-shaped detour around the multilayered garage. Pedestrians had to walk through the mall or around it. Still do.
The city’s Cultural Heritage Board (which then doubled as the Civic Arts Commission) was granted the services of a consultant and created a “plan” for Lower Fourth, now officially known as Railroad Square.
First on the agenda was the replacement of the lost link with downtown, a way to evade the mall passage.
It has never happened.
Lawsuits delayed the mall opening for enough years that the promise of tax increments to pay for a viable linkage faded away.
In the ’90s, plans for the Prince Memorial Greenway offered hope — a pleasant creek walk with cafes and a flower shop, a candy shop, a hotel terrace, along with a couple of smaller footpaths, tastefully landscaped, leading to Third Street and Railroad Square.
The hotel planners, spooked by the increase of creek side indigents, turned their backs on the Greenway and moved a “ safe distance” away. The walkway ends on Railroad Street, out of sight and easy access of the square.