Nov 292011
 

Winter 2011 – 2012
Vermont Life Magazine
Profile: Q & A

 

Every Vermonter Has a Story

Adam Howard: Active, Enterprising, Self-sufficient, Involved

 

Though he lives off the grid in Cambridge, Adam Howard could hardly be more connected to life in Vermont. As the editorial and creative director of Height of Land Publications, a company he co-founded, this former builder and ski patroller works in Jeffersonville producing such adventure sports magazines as Backcountry, Alpinist and Tele-mark Skier. Howard also helped found the Cambridge Historical Society and the Brewster River Mountain Bike Club; he sits on the Cambridge Development Review Board and, at 37, is one of the youngest members of the state’s House of Representatives. Howard is something of an anomaly in the capitol — a libertarian Republican in a Statehouse controlled by Democrats — but he says his life is more Vermont than it is either right or left. The father of two lives with his wife and family in a house he built himself, on land his ancestors settled nearly two centuries ago.

VL: What do you know about your family’s origins in Vermont?

AH: As best I can tell, I had ancestors who fought in the Battle of Bennington; and in the town of Sterling (no longer in existence), there were a lot of Revolutionary War [land] Grants, which is why, I believe, they came to the area. The town of Sterling was essentially Smugglers Notch, itself: Spruce Peak, Sterling Peak, Madonna, the Adam’s Apple on Mount Mansfield, et cetera. Not very inhabitable land, but certainly the valleys below were pretty nice.

VL: When did you first take up skiing?

AH: I started skiing when I was probably in the first grade. My parents had skied, but really, it wasn’t a lifestyle for them, it was a pastime. So I didn’t start super young, like I started my girls skiing when they were 18 months and 2 years old, because that is what we do. We are a skiing family.

VL: Have you skied every mountain in Vermont?

AH: No. I think in Vermont we are very territorial. We tend to know where it is going to be good and when it is going to be good, and we’re pretty protective of our local haunts. So Mount Mansfield is my playground, and when it is good, that is where I am going to be.

VL: Is there anything about skiing that has directly informed your political views and interests?

AH: Absolutely. With skiing you get absolute freedom and absolute control, and you are the master of your destiny, from turn to turn and from mountain to mountain, and it is hard for me to not want to take that freedom and apply it elsewhere in my life. I live off the grid. I am a libertarian. I want less government control over my life and the lives around me, so I think there is a very strong parallel that can be drawn there.

VL: How long were you a builder?

AH: I was a builder from 1995 to 2002. I wanted to build my own home and wanted to learn the skills to do it, and that is what I did. For so many of us here in Vermont, it has been a great way to make a living.

VL: What motivated you to build your house off the grid?

AH: We did a cost analysis of what it would cost to bring power to our site and applied that cost to the installation of our system, and the numbers worked. If we could tie into the grid tomorrow, I don’t think we would choose to.

VL: Would you consider yourself an environmentalist?

AH: No, I wouldn’t, but I think anyone who knows me might have a different take. To me, it is just being a Vermonter. I think most country people tend to be environmentally minded just because that is how they have to exist to survive. When you live on the land, right, you’ve got to take care of it.

VL: Do you get all your power from wind and solar?

AH: For about 10 months of the year, we get all our power from wind and solar, and then in December and January, we have to run a generator about once a week.

VL: What moves you to be so involved in your community?

AH: To me, if you grow up in small-town Vermont, where out of necessity your family is involved in the functions of the town you live in, you can call that politics, but it is really more community service.

Nov 292011
 

Winter 2011 – 2012
Vermont Life Magazine
Feature: Outdoor Recreation

 

Melting Worries Away

Undaunted by winter, hardy runners say icy treks clear the mind

 

There is, perhaps, no more a peaceful time in Vermont than the predawn hours of a midwinter day. The air is light and clean. The sky clear.  And the density of a three-foot snowpack dampens back the noise.

It is 5:30 on just such a morning and Tim Noonan of Montpelier is up and out of the house, silently passing through the ice-slicked streets of Vermont’s small-town capital.  The occasional car eases past. The odd window light of an early riser stretches out across the snow. It is cold and dark, and echoing off the house fronts is the plodding thump of Noonan’s footfalls on the road — a rhythm he has set for more than 35 years.

Noonan, 55, is a long-distance runner and about as serious a runner as one might imagine. He took up the sport in college and has rarely since missed an opportunity to train. He has run 67 marathons, including 14 at Boston — the preeminent race for any runner — and, all told, has clocked an estimated 70,000 miles in his lifetime, the equivalent of nearly three times around the earth.

Bundled in multiple layers, ski gloves and often wearing a facemask, Noonan defies the worst of Vermont’s winter weather to keep up on the sport he loves. Boston looms in early spring, and through the winter, Noonan faces his most rigorous months of training, pushing out 35 to 40 miles a week, which means, for Noonan, early mornings, cold starts and a personal motivation that is as steely as the stiffest, northeast wind.

Sure, there are challenges — the dark mornings (and dark nights), the ice, the snow. But there is also something different, something special that draws runners, like Noonan, out day after day, even on the bitterest days of the year.

“The crisp air, a clear day without wind … it is invigorating to run in the winter,” Noonan says. “I love to run. I like to be out there. And if you dress for it, you can protect against anything.” As for Noonan’s limit? It is 20 degrees … below.

“Most people think you’re a little crazy,” Noonan admits, though he insists that, in actuality, the opposite is true: Running, especially in the winter, is one of the ways he maintains his sense of well-being. “I think it is crucial to be outside in the winter, in Vermont, for mental health issues,” Noonan says, echoing the sentiments of many winter sports enthusiasts.

A few miles away, in Barre, elementary school teacher Andrea McLaughlin is also up and out of the house and meeting with friends along a country road near her home. For McLaughlin, 48, the sport of running has offered a hearty list of benefits, the most important of which are the friendships she has developed and maintained through the sport.

It was 15 years ago that McLaughlin took up running, under the encouragement and guidance of then-acquaintance Lori LaCroix, who unrelentingly plied the younger McLaughlin with fliers for various running events. Later, McLaughlin held a two-year term as president of Central Vermont Runners — a group of about 150 runners who organize regional road races — and the two women, along with several additional friends, continue to run together every Tuesday and Thursday in nearly any weather.

“Running is a great stress releaser,” McLaughlin says. “It is a whole attitude adjustment for me. It is an adrenaline rush. And it is just about the only time I get to see my friends. And you know what? If I didn’t know somebody was out there waiting for me, I probably wouldn’t get up.”

 

Nov 172011
 

November 2011
BuilderNews Magazine
Feature: Project Profile

 

From Ghoulish To Glorious

The Historic Restoration of the Old Salem Jail

 

On a crisp, Sunday morning in March 2010, a long line of visitors gathered outside the latest development project of Boston-based developer New Boston Ventures. It was the project’s first open house, and the mood that day was electric. Organizers had scheduled the event to start at 10:00 a.m., and yet long before the doors had opened, the line had swollen to well over 100 feet long and two to three people thick. It was as if those waiting were “queuing up to see a prestigious show,” wrote one attendee at the event. And the line kept growing. Over the next few hours, an estimated 3,000 people toured the project, nearly all of whom, oddly enough, had no interest in renting one of the 23 available units.

The project, the adaptive reuse and historic restoration of the Old Salem Jail in Salem, Massachusetts, had captured the imagination of nearly everyone in and around the city. Built in 1813 and added onto in 1884, the jail had been in continuous operation for 175 years, making it the oldest in the country. Its main building, the jail house, is an imposing granite and brick building, four stories tall with two spire-like cupolas that rise 20 feet or so above the ridge. A second building, the jail-keeper’s house, is a long, slender, four-story brick building that stands in front of, and perpendicular to the jail house, forming the second side of an L-shaped courtyard. The jail’s third and final building, the carriage house, is a small, barn-like structure adjacent to the jail-keeper’s house, on the southeast corner of the property.

The jail had once been an economic boon for the city of Salem, but in 1991, a federal judge declared it uninhabitable and the prison was soon abandoned. The chain-link fence and razor remained in place, but offered little deterrent to the curious. Vandals broke in, smashed windows and painted graffiti on the walls. The yard grew thick with weeds and litter. In 1999, a fire gutted the jail-keeper’s house, destroying a wood addition and leaving much of the exterior brick blackened with soot. To ghost hunters and thrill seekers, the prison’s slow moldering into ruin only increased its appeal—the property made all the more haunting by the historic Howard Street Cemetery that borders it to the rear. The city of Salem didn’t share this affection. The prison had become a blight on the community. The buildings, added to the National and State Register of Historic Places in 1976, couldn’t be demolished, and yet repeated attempts to attract a developer failed to take hold. When, in 2000, the city bought the property from the Commonwealth of Massachusetts for a whopping $1.00, then Salem Mayor Stanley Usovicz reportedly joked, “I think I paid too much.”

The city again issued and RFP for the jail’s redevelopment in early 2006, and that is when Finegold Alexander + Associates (FA+A) and New Boston Ventures got involved. Jim Alexander, the project’s lead architect and a principle with FA+A, is a bit of an adaptive-reuse celebrity in the area, and the two firms worked together often. “Several of our architects live in Salem,” Alexander explains, “and so we saw the notice early on and brought it to the developer.” The site itself is a prime piece of real estate: 1.04 acres, just blocks from downtown, the train station and the water, and only 45 minutes from Boston. The team’s plan was to convert the buildings into high-end condominiums, along with a 4,000-square-foot restaurant (now the Great Escape Restaurant) on the ground floor of the 1884 addition.

The preliminary bid-work and city approval process then took the next two years to complete. There were no plans to draw from, and so in December 2006, Alexander and his associates entered the buildings to take measurements. The fire had mostly destroyed the jail-keeper’s house, leaving only the shell and remnants of the floor structure, spiral staircases and wooden mantel pieces that once defined its interior. The coach house, built of timber frame and wood siding, had rotted through and would be torn down and replicated. But the jail house itself was altogether different. Four floors of masonry and steel cell blocks filled the building’s central cavity, from basement to roofline, with catwalks and cast-iron staircases that led from one floor to the next. Massive slate and granite slabs made up the floors. Large flecks of lead paint peeled from the ceilings and walls. The place was a horror story and would have to be gutted completely.

New Boston Ventures agreed to buy the property for $100,000, and the project continued to progress until 2008 and the crash of the U.S. housing market. The market for condos had withered almost overnight, and New Boston now faced a finance market that had dried to a trickle. Again, FA+A presented a solution. “After the market crashed,” Alexander explains, “it was decided that the original scheme was not going to work.” The solution: reconfigure the project to make it eligible for federal and state incentives. Alexander calls these projects “Tax-Act” projects, referring to the Federal Historic Preservation Tax Incentive Program administered by the National Park Service. The program provides a 20%-of-cost tax rebate on historic restorations. Massachusetts has a similar program, the Massachusetts Historic Rehabilitation Tax Credit, administered by the Massachusetts Historic Commission, which also provided a 20% tax incentive. All told, New Boston was able to reduce its estimated cost of roughly $10 million by a game-saving 40%, or $3.9 million.

“Of course, in exchange for that,” notes Alexander, “we had to do certain things in the preservation of the buildings, [and] we had to negotiate that with the National Park Service. If you are just working on a historic building, [there are] certain local historic guidelines, and you can’t tear it down. But a lot of times there aren’t a lot of other rules. There aren’t the same kind of requirements you have when you are getting tax credits and using federal money.”

One of the key changes New Boston had to agree to was to convert the project from condos into apartments and to maintain the property as rental units for at least five years. In addition, FA+A eliminated plans for balconies and raised terraces that would have obscured the buildings’ facades. The Park Service also required, among other things, that more of the building’s historical fabric be retained and that a display of its history be available to the public. To this end, workers stripped and restored one of the ornate cast iron staircases on the east end of the building and left intact (and open to the public) two of the original cells [pictured above]. New Boston also chose, as an added touch, to bolt an original cell door next to each of the apartment entrances. “It gives people something to talk about,” Alexander says.

Work on the project began in May 2009, with Boston-based Metric Construction serving as the general contractor. Bob Puracchio, the project executive with Metric, recalls the complexity of gutting the old jail. Crews first spent nearly a month cleaning the interior of lead paint, scrubbing and scraping by hand to protect the brick and mortar and removing an estimated 30 drums of chips. Then came the dismantling of the cells. The cell block masonry supported the roof framing, and so before the cells could be removed, workers had to cut through the roof, insert steel beams across the building and construct massive trusses up inside the jail’s attic. Once completed, workers could then dismantle the cell blocks, brick by brick, down through the center of the building. “At one point,” Puracchio recalls, “we had totally gutted it out and had only this big cavernous expanse of nothing but the exterior granite walls.”

Another “magic of restoration” detail for Puracchio was the re-creation of the historic chimneys on the jail-keeper’s house. The interior renovation of the building had removed the interior substructure of the chimneys, and the challenge was to support the new, replicated chimneys without this foundation. Rather than build massive supports in the attic, Puracchio explains, the engineers instead chose to fake it in. From the outside, the chimneys look authentic, but are actually only hollow shells, constructed of plywood and encased in a half-inch thick brick veneer. “When you do this a lot, as we do,” Puracchio says, “you come up with fairly crafty ways of making things look authentic.”

All told, the jail’s renovation includes 23 units. Apartments in the jail house range from a 551-square-foot one-bedroom up to a 2,621-square-foot penthouse. There are now three, 1,700-square-foot townhouses in the jail-keeper’s house and a detached, two-bedroom home in the re-built carriage house. “The idea was to provide as many options of housing as we could to just cover the market,” Alexander says.

New Boston Ventures and Finegold Alexander are also currently working through plans for a fourth building that will measure 21,000 square-feet (including underground parking), add 13 new units and close off the third side of the central courtyard. The success of the project, notes Alexander, has been remarkably impressive. The community is thrilled. A blight is removed. And back in March 2010, after that first open house, it took less than a week to fill nearly all of the available units. “I’ve got to give Metric a lot of credit,” Alexander says. “They did a terrific job.”