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Building dreams on the Hill Developer pushing ahead with plans for two-block area on Centre Avenue, new office building Tuesday, February 01, 2000 By Dan Fitzpatrick, Post-Gazette Staff Writer
Irv Williams is dreaming again. Standing on the top floor of his new Hill District office building, the 46-year-old financial analyst has a green marker in his right hand, a copy of "God's Principles for Operating a Business" on his bookshelf and a map of the Hill District spread across his desk.
In describing how he would revive the Hill, Williams fills a white poster board with a scrawl of numbers, shapes, streets and promises.
The blurs quickly become the New Granada Theater, a decaying Hill District landmark on Centre Avenue that once was host to Count Basie and Duke Ellington. Williams, who as a kid roamed Centre for fun, wants to return the building to the splendor of his youth, with a 400-seat banquet hall, a glass atrium, a courtyard and a third-floor supper club seating 260 people.
"I can walk to get something to eat - finally," said Williams, who lives a few blocks from the old theater but often has to look to other neighborhoods for restaurants and entertainment.
As he crowds the poster board with info on the Granada, Williams also turns his attention to a two-block area surrounding the old theater. Williams would like to acquire every property in that two-block stretch. He wants to demolish many of the buildings and fill the empty space with first- and second-floor shops, $115,000-$175,000 condos, a CD recording studio, a 200-car garage and a technical training center.
When asked how much his two-block entertainment project would cost, he writes: "under $25 million."
It is clear that Williams, who also wants to build a $90 million family entertainment center near the Mellon Arena, is the biggest dreamer on the Hill.
That makes him controversial.
To some community leaders, Williams is too much like a real estate developer - aggressive and not always in step with the larger needs of the neighborhood. To others, though, he represents something the Hill needs more of - a fertile imagination.
"It's better for someone to be bold and say, 'this is what we would like to do,' as opposed to no one stepping forth and saying anything," said Elbert Hatley, executive director of the Hill Community Development Corp. "Without vision and action, the community will die."
Nearly ruined by urban renewal, social neglect and the riots that followed the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., the Hill has struggled to regain its status as an entertainment hub, a vibrant residential center and a friendly place for small businesses.
Williams is stepping forward, he says, because no one else will. "I assume there is no one because there is no other development going on up here."
There are a few exceptions, however. Local, state and federal funds helped build 427 units of new housing at Crawford Square, a new development at the lip of the Lower Hill.
But as the neighborhood turns its attention from housing to its decaying commercial district, Williams is placing his money on Centre Avenue, once the neighborhood's business strip. At the same time, he is butting heads with some prominent community leaders on the shape and speed of Centre's growth.
"I think sometimes Irv gets out in front of the leadership, moving too fast, too soon," said City Council member Sala Udin, who represents the Hill.
Williams' first foray into development came in 1997, when he and his wife built and leased the Hill's first modern office building. To pay for it, the Williamses emptied their retirement account and dipped into their daughter's college fund. They also put down 10 percent of the costs - about $130,000.
The project, called Williams Square, was a big hit. Williams filled it with tenants immediately.
On his second project, though, he ran into resistance.
Williams wanted to buy a key parcel next to the Hill House Association, an influential social service agency near the intersection of Centre and Dinwiddie Street. But the Hill House wanted the same land for after-school programs. Residents of nearby Linton Street joined the fight, too, complaining that Williams' building would exacerbate neighborhood parking problems.
At an Urban Redevelopment Authority meeting, tempers flared. Williams' son and a Hill District man who supported the Hill House expansion got into a shoving match at the elevator and had to be separated.
A few days later, though, the URA voted to sell Williams the land. Next month, he and his wife plan to break ground on a new 33,000-square-foot office-and-retail building, called One Hope Square. "We are not trying to be selfish," said Janicee Williams, Irv's wife and the lead developer on One Hope Square . "We just want to move the process forward to get it done."
By being aggressive, though, the Williamses are fraying relationships.
Take, for example, their plan for land near the Mellon Arena, where they want to build a $90 million "family entertainment" center, with a bowling alley, restaurants, offices, an NHL sports bar, a hotel and a skywalk that connects the sports bar to the arena. Their plan is contingent on approval of a $147 million low-speed maglev train that would extend from the Mellon Arena to Grant Street and deposit passengers in a 5,000-car garage.
It is this idea that irks Udin more than any other: "I think his flights of fantasy around development that are based upon the existence of a garage and maglev are dreams that will never be realized. The intent goes against the almost unanimous will of the Hill District residents. They are proposing to support development for maglev for their own selfish development interests, in opposition to what people want."
Hatley, who is trying to help Williams fit his plans into the needs of the community and smooth any public rifts, acknowledged that Williams is one of the first developers, black or white, to show an interest in the Hill. "By the same token, we have to make certain what we do in support of him is something that has the element of sustainability to it," he said.
"We can not subject ourselves to further failure in this community."
Despite Williams' ambition, there is no guarantee he will participate in either the Granada renovation or the Mellon Arena development.
Hatley's community group, which purchased the Granada three years ago for $100,000, is considering a partnership with Williams, but it is talking to two out-of-town developers, too.
In a few weeks, Williams wants to place his larger, two-block entertainment plan before the community at a town meeting. To pull it off, though, he needs help from the URA, which owns several empty lots and theoretically could help Williams acquire buildings not under his control.
"We are very pleased with what he has done so far," said Mulugetta Birru, the URA's executive director. "We appreciate his commitment to the Hill, so we will continue to help him."
Birru has less hope for Williams' Mellon Arena plan, though. With several entertainment projects already on tap for Downtown and Station Square, the city does not need another family entertainment center, Birru said.
"We have entertainment everywhere," he said.
Of the Williamses' plans, Udin said, "I think the overall intentions of their efforts to develop in the Hill are good, but sometimes they may be a bit grandiose."
To Williams, though, the struggle is personal.
As a child, he worked at "Irv's-Stop-N-Go," a Centre Avenue restaurant owned by his father. The street and restaurant were lively then, with Williams cooking ribs and running the cash register. "I controlled the money," he said.
Slowly, though, the neighborhood began to deteriorate. Construction of the Civic Arena wiped out much of the Lower Hill, displacing homes and businesses. When civil rights leader the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King died in 1968, soldiers lined the streets of Centre Avenue. Despite their presence, a neighborhood riot destroyed some of the buildings left untouched by urban renewal.
In 1975, Williams took over a grocery store on Bedford Avenue. It stayed open for six years, with Williams working 16-hour days and staffing the store with family and friends. After Williams and his wife had their fourth child, they closed the store. In 1985, he began selling insurance and managing money as an independent broker for Primerica Financial Services. He founded the business from his bedroom.
Over the years, though, Williams grew tired of the Hill's dilapidated buildings, empty lots and lack of investment.
So, he decided to move forward with development on his own.
"I don't think I am moving too fast," he said. "It took 30 years to get a new building built in this neighborhood. I don't consider that moving too fast.
"If I am moving too fast , someone please tell me what the plan is so I can slow down."
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