Teamwork may pull Allston into new era
3 August 2001
Packard's Corner, the gateway to Allston, is ugly, dirty and confusing - symbolic, perhaps, of Allston itself.
Tucked somewhere between
But the community is changing: It looks better, new people are moving in and this coming Monday, in a ceremony fraught with symbolism, plans will be announced to remake Packard's Corner into a gateway that does the neighborhood justice.
Allston hangs like a thread to the rest of
It's a confusing place. "There are two Allstons," says Paul Berkeley, head of the neighborhood association.
One is overrun by transients, with
large apartment buildings stuffed with students feeding a thriving bar trade
along
Berkeley and other residents have fought a sometimes lonely battle to stop new bars from opening and to
get amenities for the area, such as a recently opened branch library on
Still, Packard's Corner, named after a defunct dealer of a
defunct car, has proved a problem. Located at the point where westbound
It was at that intersection that the T's B route of the Green Line would split from the old A route, the B cars running along Commonwealth Avenue to Boston College and the A cars along Brighton Avenue to Oak Square and Watertown. The A line stopped running in 1969, but the tracks remained like a scar for nearly 30 years.
Most of the tracks were removed in the 1990s in a multimillion dollar beautification program that did wonders
for
But an unusual coalition has been working together with residents to fix Packard's Corner, and it increasingly looks like its efforts will meet with success.
Politicians such as Councilor Brian Honan and Mayor Thomas Menino have made Packard's Corner a priority, committing city resources and leaning heavily on the MBTA to remove the tracks.
For its part the MBTA, an agency with a reputation for a tin ear when it came to serving the public, has been undergoing a near- revolution in culture, trying to reach out to communities it had once seemed to ignore. The authority had long maintained that it needed the tracks as emergency storage, but when it took a close look, it found it could do without. It volunteered to rip out them out, a refreshing gesture of good will.
But a key element of the coalition
came from a seemingly unlikely source: real estate maven Harold Brown. Brown,
once
In stories like these, one always looks for the fatal
"but" - the flaw that undermines the good people are
trying to do. There doesn't seem to be one here. Residents, government
and the private sector are all working together, something that happens rarely
in