A Tale of Two Streetcar Lines: The Delmar and Wellston Loops

“What is this, maybe a mile away from where we just were?”

This author’s friend, Jeff Philips, was remarking about the distance driven this weekend between the Wellston Loop, at Kienlen and Martin Luther King Drive, and the more famous Loop, the one in University City along Delmar Boulevard. The distance is in fact about 1.6 miles, but the figurative and societal difference could easily be one thousand miles. One has blossomed into one of the most famous streets in America, and the other has slid into abandonment, decay and obscurity.

Considering that St. Louis once boasted one of the most comprehensive streetcars systems in the world, the fact that there are now no streetcars in the entire region certainly seems sad and ironic. Not only were the streetcars the dependable, affordable means of transportation, they also created some of the most memorable shopping districts in the city. After the end of the streetcars, these commercial strips declined, with their existence coming into question. Decades later, these two famous streetcar-powered districts give us an important window into urban policy, and how neighborhoods can reinvent themselves.

Both the Delmar Loop and Wellston Loop flourished because of their prime locations; they sat at the end of major street car lines, where the cars would turn around on a “loop” of track, thus positioning them to head back into the city. Both sit on the border of St. Louis and older inner-ring suburbs that had exploded in growth at the turn of the 20th Century. But they are different in many ways.

Wellston, sitting just outside of the boundary of the city of St. Louis, benefited from its location along the St. Charles Rock Road, which before the interstates was the main route between St. Charles and St. Louis. Likewise, a major Terminal Railroad line passed by Wellston, allowing industry to spring up due to the low transportation costs. Workers’ wood frame houses were built nearby, creating a strong blue-collar community connected to the nearby city by the streetcar line. Businesses sprang up along the portion of the Rock Road in the city, named Easton Avenue (todays’ Martin Luther King Drive), creating a bustling shopping district. Area residents, some of whom still live in the area, have told the author that there was no need to shop anywhere else. But the seeds of possible trouble were already being sown in the glory days; a review of old St. Louis Post-Dispatch articles reveal that corruption was already sullying Wellston’s success.

To the south, the Delmar Loop grew out of the work of magazine publisher Edward G. Lewis. Designed not to be an industrial powerhouse like Wellston, but instead a planned suburb, University City also benefited from being situated closer to the central core of wealthy residents in the city and inner suburbs along streets like Delmar and Forest Park Parkway. The 1904 World’s Fair also placed the Delmar Loop right near the center of real estate development in the city. Numerous private streets, with curving, meandering routes were constructed near the Loop. Ames Place, Parkview, and other private subdivisions sit within walking distance of Delmar. But simply put, University City was always planned as a white-collar suburb, unlike its blue collar neighbor Wellston to the north.

So what happened? This author admits to not possessing real, definitive answers, but certainly can pose many questions. For one thing, the housing stock of Wellston was never as sturdily built as the august brick houses on the side streets in view of Delmar. Wood frame houses, like those in Wellston, will always eventually begin to show their age, and rehabbing a wood frame house, while certainly possible in the hands of an able and loving owner, is not usually realistic on a large scale. University City’s housing stock, while contemporary to Wellston’s, has stood up well due to its brick and stone construction.

Also, the importance of St. Charles Rock Road to the transportation network of St. Louis has declined precipitously. While the street in the Wellston Loop once boasted traffic volumes close to the intersection of Grand and Olive, the interstates moved much of the traffic to the north and south to highway 40 and I-70. Of course, the end of the streetcar lines also affected the health of the Wellston Loop. Race certainly played a part; Wellston is almost 100% African-American, while University City is much more racially diverse. Redlining, the practice of denying renovation loans in African-American neighborhoods, also occurred in Wellston.

But perhaps the most logical explanation is that Wellston became an early example of a disposable community. Buildings began to age, factories moved out to the suburbs, stores moved to new shopping malls like Northwest Plaza, and community leaders were left without innovative ideas to reimagine Wellston. The Delmar Loop was starting to show the signs of abandonment and decay before Joe Edwards reinvented University City’s main street. Will someone appear with a vision to save Wellston’s Loop? One can only hope, because at the current rate of abandonment, there will soon be little left to save.

Chris Naffziger writes about architecture at St. Louis Patina. Contact him via e-mail at naffziger@gmail.com.