Jefferson City’s hopes of turning the old penitentiary into a major redevelopment project are in danger. City officials have for many years pinned many of their hopes for a mid-city rennaiscance to the state’s preservation, restoration, and redevelopment of the prison and dozens of acres of land controlled by he city inside the old walls.

Jefferson City leaders must aggressively overturn an effort by the House of Representatives Budget  Committee to eliminate $52.3 million from the state budget that Governor Parson recommended in January and another $40 million he wants set aside for later preservation and restoration work.

It is essential if a downtown convention center is to be more than a stand-alone project that misses the chance to bring about greater transformational change for our city from Madison and Capitol for the next seven blocks to the east.

The plan has been promoted as putting the old place in shape for expanded tourism attraction.  But the issue is far more important than that.  It is only one part of a much greater future for a major part of the Capital City and, it can be argued, is part of a package of developments that is highlighted by the expansion of the Capitol itself.

The Capitol and the penitentiary are bookends of our city’s historic, cultural, economic, and ethnic past, present, and future.  In fact, the penitentiary is a major reason this city continued to exist for the first eighty-five years as the seat of state government, a development that curtailed the efforts to end the City of Jefferson’s political history before it had hardly begun.

Jefferson City was a tiny, dirty/muddy, little frontier village, the worst of the three possible locations for a permanent capital, when Governor John Miller told the legislature in 1832 it had to do something to create an economy for the city or take the government elsewhere:

If t is not to be the permanent seat of government, that fact cannot be too soon made known, while on the other hand if it is to remain as such, it is advisable that those measures which would advance its prosperity, should be taken with the least possible delay. Some of the principle streets are from the nature of tne ground impassable. It is therefore respectfully recommended that an appropriation be made for grading and otherwise improving,them. The erection of a penitentiary here, the necessity and utility which cannot be doubted, would contribute in a great degree to calm the public mind in relation to th« permanent location of the seat of government.

 The penitentiary, for many years well outside the city limits, today is the link between the water company overlooking the river on the hill west of Bolivar Street to Ellis Porter/Riverside Park and its recently-restored amphitheatre on the east. It’s an area that swells to include Dunklin Street that runs through the heart of Munichberg and continues to and past the entrance to Lincoln University before turning back toward the river at Clark Avenue.

For many years, the tall standpipe at the water company,  the capitol dome, and the smokestacks of prison industries were parts of our skyline.

That area has been, is, and will be the heart of our city.

One Budget Committee member called the restoration “the stupidest idea I’ve heard all day,” and another said it was not a place she would take her grandchildren. Another opposes the idea of making a tourist attraction out of the suffering of thousands of inmates.

It’s time for these folks to hear, loudly, from city leaders that they are flat wrong on several counts.

There’s plenty of time and ways to get that money put back into the budget but Jefferson City needs to become very aggressive in making the case that these committee members are just flat wrong. Thirty thousand people a year don’t think the prison is stupid. A lot of grandchildren have gone through it. And the suffering of inmates is an important part of the reason our national history of corrections has undergone massive change. The prison is a great example of showing how our past can guide us to the future.

Alcatraz is not too gruesome to draw 1.5-million people a year. Nor is the old Eastern State Prison in Philadelphia, which draws 350-thousand. Nor are at least a dozen restored prisons and jails throughout the nation.

Jefferson City cannot allow the short-sightedness of these representatives to prevail.

In a city where you can’t swing a dead cat without hitting a lobbyist, it wouldn’t hurt if they had enough interest in their town to speak up for it voluntarily and help get that money back. And asking the governor to step in would not be improper.

Jefferson City must fight for the restoration of this funding not just because the old prison is a tourism draw but because of its potential for significant other developments that will take advantage of a large plot of available land in the heart of the city. What prison restoration can mean to Jefferson City’s core redevelopment is part of the vision of making a good city a great one.

The prison is more than an old, miserable lockup.  It is one of the most important historical structures still standing in Missouri, a massive learning experience for all who visit it, even grandchildren. Going through it is a matter of going through several eras in the history of crime, punishment, and justice in Missouri.

You want to know how bad things were?  Take a tour. You want to know how things changed?  Take a tour. The stories you hear from guides are intensely human. Calling the prison a tourist attraction, in fact, cheapens the prison as a teaching and learning experience.

We can concede that there are those who don’t think the public should see this institution that focuses on the worst of our society.  But ignoring the worst does not make us better.  Crime is here.  Prisons are here.  Refusing to acknowledge their presence, their purposes, or the changing standards that they represent in our history is unrealistic.

Thousands of men and women went into that “bloodiest 47 acres in America” and came out to live peaceful lives. Understanding the world where they were sent and from which they emerged is important.  Making a tourist attraction out of the suffering of thousands of inmates?  It’s much more than that.

The decision by our city leaders to abandon the old penitentiary as the potential site for a convention center and hotel is a welcome, solid, decision. The plan to put the hotel/center in the prison seemed to be a good idea about a decade ago but nothing developed other than a few lines on paper. It was correct for the previous city administration to bring this long-ignored opportunity back to the public mind and to keep it there. But it is not unusual for first concepts to fall by the wayside as time shows their weaknesses.

I was the President of the State Historical Society of Missouri when we opened our $37-million Center for Missouri Studies about five years ago. It is far beyond what we imagined it would be in the first stages of our planning and it is not on our first choice of location.  But the leaders of our society never once conceded that we could not do what we wanted to do. Our only question was, “How do we do this?”

That characteristic, when applied to cities, is what elevates good cities to great cities.  Do not tell me we can’t do something; explain to me how we can.

What happens with the penitentiary now that it is available for new development is a major factor in Jefferson City’s move from a good city to a great city.  As we explore one man’s vision in this series, details will emerge.

We’ll talk about our vision for the penitentiary later. But for now, the priority must be action that will preserve the penitentiary for its own value to the public while creating an improved opportunity for the city to take steps toward greatness within it.

(photo credit: Missouri American Water Company)