city planning

Memories of Chapel Hill: Love, Weddings, and History

April 1, 2025

Chapel Hill. The University of North Carolina. Ah! All the memories came rushing back as we drove around, parked the car, and walked along Franklin Street in Chapel Hill, North Carolina.

I recalled meeting the Dean of City Planning, who welcomed me upon my arrival. He greeted me warmly and instilled confidence in me that I could not fail here. After I met my future wife, we listened to Johnny Cash on the quad, frequented local pubs, and eventually got married!

We initially had a civil ceremony in South Carolina without informing our families; it was one of those spur-of-the-moment decisions. The experience of the civil process, alongside that of four other couples, felt rather mundane. Returning to Chapel Hill, my Peugeot 403 broke down on the road, and we had to hitchhike back.

Returning to our dorms after the ceremony was exhilarating. We had a piece of paper that officially declared us married, and we were embarking on a new life together, forever. I wondered if this was the same experience that pioneers felt when loading their wagons on the journey west.

At that moment, no one knew we were married—not even our school friends.

This exhilarating feeling lasted for a few weeks until we had our church wedding in the Episcopal Chapel of the Cross, which was attended by family and my classmates, with whom I had just graduated. In the lead-up to the wedding, the pastor asked us if our differing religious beliefs would ever cause friction between us. It seemed unlikely: I was a non-practicing Roman Catholic, while Kathy was Episcopalian. Having a church wedding was the traditional way to get married, which both our families accepted.

The memories bubbling up were from over fifty years ago. The Town of Chapel Hill has also aged. We walked along Franklin Street starting from Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard. There were many more restaurants, coffee shops, and fraternity and sorority houses than we could recall from the past, in addition to newer tourist shops, vaping lounges, and art galleries.

As we crossed Franklin Street, we approached the Chapel of the Cross, where we were married decades ago. I couldn’t remember much about the building except for the circular driveway in front. I remember it well because, after the ceremony, when we tried to drive away in Kathy’s car, my classmates had blocked our tires with rocks. I felt embarrassed as I heard all my friends laughing. I quickly exited the vehicle and moved the stones. However, a loud noise came from the wheels during my next attempt to speed off. I decided to ignore the noise as we drove away, stopping a few blocks later to empty the rocks from the hubcaps.

To my surprise, the Chapel did not evoke any strong emotions within me. I struggled to recall its architecture and viewed the Chapel as if I were seeing it for the first time. However, once we entered the building, the historical information provided in a brochure added to a cultural dimension that was entirely new to me and left a lasting impression.

Mary Ruffin Smith (1814-1885) was an early benefactor of the Chapel, constructed in 1843. Her father, a plantation owner, physician, and congressman, paid $450 for a mulatto slave, a fifteen-year-old girl, for Mary. One of Mary’s brothers took a fancy to the slave girl, Harriet, and stalked and sexually assaulted her. Mary’s other brother, Frank, took exception and pummeled Sidney, ordering him to stay away from Harriet. Sidney stayed away from Harriet after the incident, during which she gave birth to a girl, Cornelia. However, Frank fell in love with the girl and had three daughters with Harriet. Mary cared for Harriet and the four girls, bought them from the plantation, and took them to the Chapel of the Cross every Sunday. All the colored people sat on the balcony of the Chapel, not permitted to sit with the white folks. Mary had all four girls baptized at the Chapel, as well as Harriet.

The story continued with Pauli Murray (1910-1985), the granddaughter of Cornelia, the oldest of Harriet’s daughters. Murray was an author, activist, and writer. In 1938, she attempted to enroll at the University of North Carolina (UNC), but her admission was denied due to her race, despite her close relationship with her great-aunt Mary, who had donated a significant portion of her land to the university. Pauli Murray went on to become a lawyer and practice law. In 1977, she made history as the first African American woman to be ordained as an Episcopal priest in the United States. After her ordination, Rev. Pauli Murray took communion in the Chapel where her enslaved grandmother had been baptized.

This story left a significant impression on me. Perhaps it’s because topics like plantations, slavery, the significance of skin color, and religion are not part of my background. Instead, I could discuss the Iron Curtain, Communism, and the experiences of the Pioneers (the communist equivalent of the Boy Scouts), as I spent my youth in Hungary under Russian domination.

Exploring North Carolina: Vineyards, Memories, and Family

May 15, 2024

Sitting in the sun, shaded partly by an umbrella at Shelton’s vineyard in North Carolina, was hugely relaxing. Helping the relaxation was the Cabernet Sauvignon that we sipped. The food was average: pulled pork on an open sandwich base, or perhaps it was a pizza. I am not sure, but it tasted like pub food, appropriate in the setting.

Driving away from the lush meadows of the Yadkin Valley where Shelton’s grows its grapes, my thoughts turned towards the many times we visited North Carolina over the last few decades, and my memory lane took me back to the first time I drove to Chapel Hill, NC.

That was when the Dean of the Graduate School of City Planning welcomed me with an open smile; Jack Parker welcomed each planning student. His intimate reception touched me, and he generated a feeling that I’d succeed in my studies. It was a competitive program, but I have known no one who failed. The UNC Planning School admitted me for the January session; I applied to many other Ivy League schools, but UNC took me mid-year, and I accepted the offer, not waiting for the other schools to respond. But let me explain how I decided to attend planning school.

After graduating from the School of Architecture at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver, Canada, I worked with a small architectural firm in Vancouver. I lasted six months before getting bored with mundane designs of lobbies for high-rise buildings put up by developers. Another job with an even smaller firm was more interesting: designing a recreation center for a specific location in Vancouver. This project came about as a request for proposals for a competition our firm did not win.

After my brief experience with two architectural firms, I decided that I did not fit the mold of an architect. Architecture envisions plenty of attractive and well-appointed living spaces unavailable for most people worldwide. Architecture is irrelevant to people who have no choice but to tolerate less attractive environments. So, that was the impetus for me to search for a new field of endeavor. City planning appeared to be a related field, so I started applying to graduate planning schools in the fall, which is how I ended up in Chapel Hill in January.

When I arrived, I felt I was in paradise, experiencing southern hospitality and the positive energy generated by, and friendships made with, the planning students. Living at a campus-type university was another positive for me; UBC was a city university where moststudents lived off-campus. In contrast, campus life at UNC was rich with lectures and performances I could attend. For example, at the annual Jubilee Music Festival in the spring, I listened to Johnny Cash while sitting with thousands of students on the ground of the quadrangle. It was a memorable concert.

Another primary reason North Carolina holds deep memories is that I spent considerable time with my future wife during our second year there. Although we met in Washington, DC, where we both had summer jobs, upon returning to UNC for our second year, we saw each other daily, starting with breakfast in thestudent dining room,Lenoir Hall, when it cost forty cents. And we spent many evenings talking late into the night at the Rathskeller, a student pub in Chapel Hill. We married at year’s end at the Anglican Church on the campus with family and all my classmates in attendance. The audience had a big laugh when the newlyweds left in the car with a colossal ruckus created by the rocks my friends put into the hubcaps of our vehicle.

A career launch and meeting my lifelong partner provide deep roots in North Carolina. But there is more to it. Our three children applied to US universities after finishing high school in Ontario. Although they did get into Canadian universities, they thought going to American schools would be more adventurous, perhaps influenced by their parent’s experience there. The upshot of their leaving Canada was that Tony and David attended UNC in Chapel Hill, while Megan graduated from Duke University in Durham.

They married after graduating from university; the two boys married North Carolina girls and settled in Charlotte and Durham. Further, Kathy’s brother, Huw, retired from Washington, DC to Winston-Salem, near where his wife had grown up. Our recent visits to North Carolina span from Charlotte to Winston-Salem to Durham, all of these locations along Interstate 40, within three hours of driving time.

Innumerable opportunities have existed to visit our children and their growing families in North Carolina, share a vacation, help them move, or see them. Over the years, I wore out several car tires along Interstate 81, driving from Ottawa to North Carolina. However, the visits have also provided opportunities to see the state and enjoy what it offers.

Huw and Judy introduced us to vineyards while driving around Wiinston-Salem. With the decay of the tobacco industry, growing grapes had taken over the rich agricultural soil. My attraction to visiting vineyards goes beyond sipping wines; they happen in areas with lush vegetation on rolling hills, with a lake and a fountain facing the tasting room.

Having visited Shelton’s vineyard, where the wine was tasty, but the food was not the best, we decided to visit Shadow Springs Vineyards with Huw and Judy on our last visit before returning to Ottawa. They do not have a restaurant, and since we do not sip wine without some food at lunchtime, we stopped at the Shiloh General Store in Hammondville to pick up a sandwich.

Amish people run the store, and the owner, Phil Graber, was on cash. I learned from him that the area has over fifty Amish families. Phil and his wife Mary established the store in the early 2000s and expanded it to over thirty-five hundred square feet. The store sells homemade products with fresh ingredients, such as pickled vegetables, dry soup mixes, Amish noodles, pretzels, and crackers.

They made a tasty sandwich for us. I found their order-taking fascinating. You choose on a piece of paper the type of bread, meat, spread, vegetables, and sides you want and place it in a window. Then, they prepare the sandwich and call your name. There was no limit on what you could ask for, and I thought, why not order pulled pork and chicken under meats? And low and behold, my sandwich had both meats!

Armed with our sandwich, we entered Shadow Springs’ tasting room. Judy selected a 2022 Seyval Blancand a2022 Chardonnay while we settled at a table on the lakefront, cranking up the umbrella to provide shade from the sun’s heat at midday. The chatty hostess in the tasting room described how Chuck Johnson, the owner, decided to retire from his corporate job to his home state and look for another career opportunity after missing too many of his son’s ball games. Chuck and his wife Mary went winetasting upon their return to NC and decided that winemaking might be an excellent opportunity for starting a new life. They looked at dozens of farms for sale until they found this piece of land with the proper orientation and soil qualities to make wine. They started making wine in 2005.

And we were not disappointed with their wines. We spent the two-hour lunch sipping wine in sunny weather, sitting outside with a huge fountain making a bubbling sound in the middle of the lake next to us. What a way to spend our last day in North Carolina before returning to Ottawa, where the trees were getting leafy.

An Open Letter to Ottawa City Planning

February 15, 2023

I linked up to a “public engagement” zoom meeting on a proposal to build a one-story medical imaging facility at 1485A Merivale Road, replacing the current facility a short distance away.

The proponents presented a most unsatisfactory site plan, resulting from the shape of the site, which is accessible only via a two-lane driveway. It is a back lot, facing a major arterial, Merivale Road. And a vacant and decaying one-story building is on one side of the driveway and a gas station is on the other. If this project goes ahead, I could just conjure up a garish sign advertising the imaging facility, because it will be invisible from Merivale Road.

And access to the site is only possible by driving north on Merivale. Considering the over seventy parking stalls proposed for the development, I can envision a few hundred cars making a right turn entering and leaving this facility each day.

Complicating access to the proposed facility is the gas station next door, which also has hundreds of cars turning in and out, and a traffic light a hundred meters away that causes the stacking of lanes on Merivale every time the light turns red. I have always experienced long waiting times trying to get onto Merivale from the gas station because of the traffic congestion. The proposed facility will only make this situation worse.

Since I would drive south on Merivale to visit this proposed facility from my house, I would have to make a U-turn to drive north on Merivale to enter it. I would think twice about using this facility the second time and choose another imaging center, more accessible to me.

One could ease the traffic problem by opening a driveway on the east side of the property and working with the owner of the adjacent shopping center (behind the Barley Mow) to continue with the driveway behind the shopping center, exiting onto Capilano Drive. Turning left onto Capilano would bring you to the traffic light on Merivale, from where both south and northbound turns are possible. I strongly recommend opening a driveway on the east side of the property, exiting onto Capilano, and providing a second access and exit point to the site.

Besides access problems, the siting of the proposed building is unattractive. Why should a modern medical building be accessed via a long driveway surrounded by a gas station and a vacant building and then a parking lot before entering it? The scheme reminds me of shopping centers with acres of asphalted surface parking up front along the road, with strip malls behind. Surely, we can do better than that!

I understand the owners of this property also own the land occupied by the vacant building (1485 Merivale Road); why not combine this lot with the subject one accessible only via a driveway and locate the medical facility closer to Merivale Road? A sign on the building would provide identification and relegate parking to the back of the site. Part of the additional lot could be used as a park fronting Merivale Road, providing an attractive green entrance to the medical facility.

Much discussion at the zoom meeting focused on the proposed use that is not the “highest and best” use of the land; that a much taller building is allowed on this site. But the owners, two doctors, demurred; they said they are not developers and not interested in building more than the medical facility. Is it possible that zoning in Ottawa allows more development than there is demand for it? That all arterial roads zoned for highrise development is overkill?

Merivale Road will not benefit from this proposal from an urban design point of view, and it will make traffic much worse. But, what is confusing or missing is, what is the role of our city planning department in all of this – are they not empowered to look at the project in a more holistic way, rather than each individual project at a time without regard to what else may be being proposed in the nearby area which impacts not only on the traffic but the “neighborhood look’?

The lesson I learned from this experience is that, unfortunately, each proposal is looked at without reference to the surrounding community. So, each site has to have its unique entrance. That kind of thinking leads to many driveways, one to each property, and an awful lot of unnecessary paving. For example, look at the Salus development on Capilano Drive, close to this proposal. That project has its driveway paralleling the long driveway to the Curling Club. Would not a combined driveway save pavement?

In conclusion, the traffic issue could be alleviated by making a driveway on the east side of the property and continuing it to exit onto Capilano Drive, providing another access to the site. Further, adding the vacant property would enhance the view of the building from Merivale, used either as a park or by locating the proposed building closer to Merivale.

In the current proposal, the Emerald Plaza Shopping Center has a service drive right adjacent to this property. Would there be a way to use and combine the service drive with the entrance to this site? Yes, I know, different property owners, etc. But we should be thinking more in terms of “planned unit developments”, contiguous areas, and not in terms of individual lots. Just my opinion.

How Did You Meet Your Spouse

November 12, 2022

That was the question at a celebration of a friend’s sixtieth wedding anniversary. We were looking at pictures of the couple’s past activities going back decades when someone popped the question. After the wife related how a “blind date” experience in Montreal led to an amazing sixty years of marriage, somebody spoke up and wanted to know how others, present at the celebration, met. I had no chance to relate my story; the conversation turned to how long it took from meeting your spouse to the wedding.

So here is my story. It started with my first car: a Peugeot 403 that I bought in Vancouver, in the early 1960s. I drove my car to North Carolina to attend graduate school in January 1965.

During the summer of 1965, I, along with two other graduate students studying city planning at the University of North Carolina (UNC) at Chapel Hill, had summer jobs in Washington, DC.

Ray rented a cheap apartment painted all black; it was unbearably hot with no AC. Another classmate, Alvaro, and I rented a room at Hartnett House off Dupont Circle. It was a bit of a flophouse. Our room had a window facing inwards onto a courtyard, with no air-conditioning and no fans.

If you know Washington’s weather during the summer, you know how steamy and hot it can be. Going to the beach one weekend was a wonderful idea, and since I was the only one with a car, I drove all of us to the beach in my Peugeot.

Alvaro invited Kathy to come with us to the beach. Kathy was a graduate student as well, studying economics and political science at UNC.

As soon as we arrived at the beach, Ray and Alvaro went to play the slot machines in the arcade. Kathy and I started talking about school life and hit it off immediately; we discovered we were both newcomers to North America and shared details of our growing up here. In those days we called stealing your friend’s date “birddogging”.

During the summer, Kathy and I got to know each other while discovering Rock Creek Park, going to nightclubs with blaring music, and eating at fish bistros along the Potomac. Our relationship hit a high point when her mother invited me for dinner. She was an experienced cook; the chicken meat just fell off the bones. I enjoyed the dinner and told her so. That pleased her. I was in.

I asked her to marry me three weeks after meeting her and bought her a skinny ring that I could afford from my meagre earnings that summer. But promised that I would replace the ring with a much larger ring as soon as I could buy one; I did so later when my job took me to the Yukon, where I bought her a wide gold ring.

The summer ended, and we had to go back to university. I suddenly got worried that if I spend so much time with Kathy, my studies will suffer. But as soon as we were back at school, we saw each other every day, starting with breakfast at Lenoir Hall, the student cafeteria.

We planned the church wedding for June 7, 1966, right after graduation, in Chapel Hill. But I had a suggestion; let us get married in a civil ceremony before the church wedding. We hustled off to South Carolina so that no one would know of our marriage and got married in the courthouse by a Justice of the Peace. I did not think the props in the courthouse measured up to the significance of the event; a couple of flowerpots did not provide the right background for taking a vow for life. But it was a marriage, and we had the certificate to prove it.

Our courthouse marriage burned an unforgettable memory in my mind; two grad students in a small South Carolina town, far from family, getting married, with nobody around who knew us, casually dressed, and making a contract for life. I thought it was surrealistic but deeply emotional and tremendously exciting.

This unique experience overwhelmed us, and nothing could break our spirits, not even when my faithful old car, the Peugeot 403, broke down on the drive back to Chapel Hill and we had to hitchhike back home. We just left the car on the highway; I took the license plates off it so people could not trace the car back to me. Disposal of the car was the last thing on my mind right after our union.

I cannot describe in words how excited and happy I felt being married, nobody knowing about it, not even my family, and going back to my dorm and Kathy going back to her dorm where she was a student councilor (her dorm students would have been flabbergasted to know what their advisor/councilor just did. This was in the sixties!).

The preparations for the church wedding took some other interesting turns; the pastor at the Chapel of the Cross Episcopal Church who was to perform the wedding ceremony asked if religion would cause a problem for us. Kathy is Episcopal and I am Catholic. I assured the pastor that religion would not be an issue; I was a non-practicing Catholic and could not see myself launching into heavy arguments over religious doctrines.

Kathy’s brother Huw, whom I just met the day before the wedding, and my friend Ray, took me out for a few drinks; explaining that it was a custom to do so. On the day of the wedding, I got up a bit groggy and searched around for my formal clothing only to find I did not have a tie. I walked down the dorm corridor hall knocking on doors until I found a classmate happy to lend me one. I was ready to marry the second time.

My entire city planning class showed up for the wedding and had a great laugh when I tried to drive off in Kathy’s car. They put rocks in front and back of the tires, and I could not drive off until I got out of the car and cleared the rocks to the laughter of all. And when I drove off, a terrible racket came from the hubcaps; my friends put rocks into them as well. I drove off and stopped a block away to take the hubcaps off to get rid of the stones before driving off to our honeymoon.

Although I did not have the opportunity at the celebration to relate my story, I reflected on a marriage that lasted over sixty years. What I found more significant is that only one percent of couples in the U.S. can celebrate 60 years of marriage. I could not find similar statistics for Canada. I also found that an average marriage lasts fifteen years in Canada. So, a sixty-year marriage is an incredible achievement. Congratulations.

Are Public Consultations Useful?

June 11, 2022

Are Public Consultations Useful?

Responding to an ad in the local community newsletter, I registered for a virtual meeting to discuss the future of Confederation Heights, an Ottawa employment hub for the federal government. The ad caught my attention, having been a city planner. Reading the ad, I realized this was the second meeting on this, aimed at getting public feedback.

The Canada Lands Company (CLC) was the lead on this project and hired consultants to carry out the work.

Before joining the second meeting, I read a detailed report: the consultants prepared a summary of the discussion at the first zoom meeting entitled “Realize the potential”. I describe the “key themes” gleaned from the meeting further down.

I looked forward to the zoom meeting with interest: they built Confederation Heights in the 1950s and it is time to reevaluate the aging buildings and sprawling parklands with an eye for improvements and future development (the Greber plan of 1949 recommended the idea of an employment hub). Several of the original buildings, built in the 1950s, have received heritage designations, on this 640-acre site.

The site today includes two extensive parks managed by the National Capital Commission, a recreation complex run by federal employees, the Headquarters for Canada Post, and several federal office buildings, some empty. Three four-lane thoroughfares cross the site, as well as a CN railway line.

The meeting started with the speaker acknowledging the Algonquin Anishinabe people, for having lived in the area for a millennium, and for their cultural and other contributions to the Ottawa area. I’ll have to do some research to find out what these contributions are. I am not aware of any.

Government agencies in Ottawa start public meetings with this introduction. I have experienced this in the past few months. In my opinion, it is a cruel hoax that raises expectations but is unlikely to result in anything material for the natives. But the artificiality of this hollow gesture pains me.

Since this was a presentation by federal government officials, the meeting had to be bilingual. I knew that from my previous work in the federal bureaucracy. But the interpretation services failed occasionally, and we had to listen to the English and then to the French speeches covering the same subjects.

The consultants began by describing the multi-year process to develop a plan for the next thirty years. I have trouble with long-range plans, which seldom produce the results desired. Many unanticipated events may interfere. Long-range plans should provide broad options, adaptable to future changes. I look forward to seeing the final product in a year.

The consultants also explained the site has many uses that will not change. The parks will stay and the RA Center and its playing fields are likely to stay along with the designated heritage buildings, which may be renovated for new uses.

Major city roads occupying extensive areas, crisscrossing the site with many access ramps, will have to remain. They will also preserve woodlots. Potential new buildings will have to blend into the roadwork, the woodlots, and the heritage buildings, a creative challenge for architects.

So what were the “key themes” derived from the first public engagement exercise that will guide the future development? The first theme was “mix of use, i.e.., shopping, housing, open spaces/parks, community amenities”. But is not mixed-use what you have in all cities, excluding suburbs? This is the reality of most large-scale urban development today.

The second highest priority theme was “sustainability”. What does that mean? Is it related to the woodlots that may house wildlife? Is there more to “sustainability”?

The next theme was “housing affordability and active mobility”. Would you define housing affordability? My interpretation of affordability is that housing prices are too high for the average income earner. But I am not sure urban planning is as suitable to deal with housing affordability, whatever it is, as government subsidy programs. And active mobility refers to bicycle and walking paths; most communities wish to have those.

The next two “themes” were “making public transit a priority” and “high-quality urban design”. Are these unique objectives or are these, really, objectives that should be taken for granted? Some people with cars may not consider public transit a priority. And others may not have an esthetic eye for urban design. But if you asked people and were given the choice, who would want poor public transit and low-quality urban design?

Are these “themes” anything more than motherhood statements? The same ideas propped up at the second meeting in which I took part, hoping to learn more useful information. Instead, I heard more jargon about “vibrant and diverse” communities with “tree-lined streets”, walking/cycling paths, and underground shopping malls to deal with winters in Ottawa (similar to what is in Montreal).

I wondered about the usefulness of these consultations. Have the consultants learned anything that would be useful in their design of the land beyond dreamy visions? But, perhaps, that was the purpose of these public engagements: to hear the public out on their dreams for the development of this site. The concepts which emerged from the public feedback could apply to any large-scale urban development in any city in North America. I cannot recall any comments that specifically relate to Confederation Heights.

The future of this property will depend on economic and population trends, and the resulting demand for commercial and residential properties. Nobody can foresee these trends with any clarity thirty years ahead.

I think the consultants will identify usable development parcels on the site and propose land uses and building envelopes by zoning regulations (highrise, lowrise, commercial, etc.). When economic conditions are ripe, developers will bid on parcels of developable land at Confederation Heights to do what they do best: propose workable projects with public appeal. Was this exercise anything more than checking the box on: “public engagement”? Just my opinion.

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