Local preservationists barely had the time to breathe a collective sigh of despair over the court decision allowing Pano to demolish the Atwater house before the crew was brought out and the crane poised to strike.
More than a century of history came crashing to the ground this morning, just three days after permission was granted to move ahead on the expansion of the popular Elmwood restaurant, taking with it the hopes of those trying to save the beautiful 1893 Medina sandstone.
In a quick response to the appellate court’s decision, Jeff Brennan posted on Buffalo Rising yesterday a call to save the house through relocation. The effort proved too little too late, however, because Pano’s plans were already well underway (the demo permit was approved by the city yesterday).
“We know some people are upset by our decision, but if they bear with us, we’re going to build something nice for this city,” said Niko Georgiadis, Pano’s son and former resident of the house. “We love this city and we love this block. We’re going to stay here and invest in the neighborhood.”
Niko said the demolition of the house came after three years of planning the best course of action. He said they consulted with an architect on either incorporating the historic house into the restaurant’s design (a no go) or finding someone willing to take on the cost of relocating it (no bites), and demolition was the choice they had to make.
“It’s very bittersweet for me, but the house had to come down,” he said. “We talk about leaving history behind for our children, but this is my contribution and what I am going to leave behind for my kids.”
The demolition grabbed the attention of many passers by, including contractor Matt Mishaux and his employee Phil, who primed and painted the Atwater house a decade ago. Watching the house tumble down, they reminisced over the sweat and manpower they had poured into it – “It took us six days to paint that house,” Mishaux said, “and they knock it down in two hours.”
Now I’m no fan of destruction, but watching the Atwater house crumble to the ground was a sight to be seen. It reminded me of the impermanence of our own lives and of the countless things that are somehow beyond our control. And that even the battles that hold in them the noblest of intentions can be lost.
Pano owned the house and therefore the legal right to do with it what he chose. The best thing we can do now is hold onto the memories and move forward. The new restaurant will be an investment for the future, and we can only hope now that they fully execute their grandiose plans and create something that does justice to the surrounding neighborhood.
And, if I may add one more thing, in the immortal words of Kansas (seriously only because they were referenced to me by, no joke, three separate people at the scene) “nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky.” The Atwater house is now dust in the wind.
