Community cornerstone: Kitty Rankin

By Peggy Nolan

At a time when women had considerably less power in the workplace, Kitty Rankin earned a seat at the table as decisions were made about developments that threatened Madison’s historic buildings. In her own words below, she describes her proudest moments and biggest challenges in her nearly 35-year career as a historic preservationist, first with the Wisconsin Historical Society and then with the City of Madison. “Maybe there is someone out there who knows more about historic preservation in Madison than Kitty, but I can't imagine who it might be,” says Kurt Stege, co-chair of the Madison Trust for Historic Preservation’s Advocacy Committee.


Who or what sparked your interest in historic preservation? When?

My parents instilled in me a love for old buildings and a sadness for their loss. When I was four years old in 1952, we moved from Milwaukee to Thiensville, a beautiful little village on the edge of suburban growth. It had a three-story stone mill and a pretty little main street with historic houses. When an old building was torn down, my parents would bring us there to photograph the demolition and mourn the loss. One of the first to go was the old mill, torn down for a car lot. Among others, a rambling Greek Revival house was demolished for a new bank, and the front of a Greek Revival butcher-shop-turned-grocery was disfigured by a metal front addition for grocery cart ramps. The saddest loss was the demolition of an Italianate building erected by a pharmacist, complete with a marble soda fountain with built-in booths overlooking the river. It was removed for a turn lane. That was around 1965.

Kitty Rankin

What accomplishments in your professional career are you most proud of?

As a bureaucrat, I can’t really take sole credit for much; I could research and advise, but others made the decisions. The project I can take the most credit for was the main Gisholt Machine building (1301 E. Washington Ave.). An industrialist from out of town wanted to bring his operations to Madison, contingent on being able to demolish the building. I explained to him that the building had a long and important history of housing one of Madison’s largest employers, and I encouraged him to look into reusing it. He ended up using it for his manufacturing operations, and now the building is a warehouse for a fashion enterprise. Other buildings I worked hard to retain included the Thorstrand Estate at Marshall Park; the little house next to the Elks Club at 719 Jenifer St.; Breese Stevens Field; the Brittingham Boathouse; the Conklin House on Mills and Conklin (which was moved) and the Quisling Clinic/Hart house project.

How did you manage to be at the table when decisions like that were being made?

When I started in 1979, no one in the City of Madison Planning Department had any knowledge of or appreciation for historic preservation. My boss welcomed me by saying, “I don’t know anything about what you are supposed to be doing, so here’s your office and good luck.” There had been a flood in the office, and all the files were spread randomly across the floor. As I was organizing, I realized that despite Madison having two local historic districts, very few building projects were being submitted for Landmarks review. It turned out that Building Inspection had been refusing to cooperate. So, I educated them in the new ordinances, found out what their objections were, addressed them to make things as easy as possible and got things up and running. New development was the modus operandi of the Planning Department, with only lip service given to making existing neighborhoods better places to live. I would say that I and the neighborhood planners made our work more important to the department by empowering neighborhoods and owners of buildings in historic districts to have a voice. We gave them the knowledge and context to make decisions and demand action. Eventually, my bosses learned that it only made sense to bring us into the room sooner than later.

What were some of your other accomplishments?

I am proud to have conducted a years-long comprehensive survey of Madison’s historic buildings, which resulted in a database of 5,000 historic resources and three extensive reports on the buildings’ themes, styles and architects. In my time, the City also established three historic districts: University Heights, the Marquette Bungalows and the First Settlement. I also devised a system of strong citizen involvement that created buy-in for owners who agreed to additional regulation of their properties.

How has the field of historic preservation changed since you first got involved?

The country’s Bicentennial in 1976 brought a new interest in our historic past and its buildings. One wonderful result was the federal Historic Preservation Tax Incentives Program, enacted in 1976. Developers flocked to the program. Marty Rifken was the first developer in Madison to make use of the tax credits, removing the old metal screen that covered the sandstone Italianate façade of the Ellsworth Block (now The Old Fashioned restaurant) on the Capitol Square. Many fine historic buildings were rehabilitated by developers like Randy Alexander and Urban Land Interests.

Madison is now experiencing a boom in building unseen since the 1950s and ‘60s. And, like in that time, new buildings are being built that are much less attractive than the ones they are demolishing. When you think of communities with a thriving downtown, it is typically the small scale, fine materials and attention to details provided by the older building stock that make them so attractive. The Square has lost a lot of its vitality by recent demolition, and State Street is now being threatened by that loss. Similarly, the unique vitality of our historic neighborhoods and districts, like Mansion Hill, Willy Street and the Langdon area, are at risk of losing what makes them so desirable. These represent a tiny percentage of land area and deserve to be protected from the current density-is-everything mantra.

Wisconsin State Journal article link (click above to view details full screen)

What historic preservation projects are you following now, as a retiree?

I hate to see the loss of the DiSalvo Grocery Store at 802 Regent St. It was one of a handful of buildings remaining from the multi-ethnic Greenbush neighborhood. I am astonished that the City believes that a mural on the side of a new apartment building is an acceptable replacement for the original brick and mortar. I am also dismayed at the Wisconsin Historical Society’s plan to tear down two fine, early-- 20th-century buildings — the Carroll and Vroman Blocks — for a glass box that will have none of the elegance and appeal of the original buildings. It’s ironic that an institution that is charged with preserving our history has no interest in retaining part of Madison’s history.

You once said, “A lot of people believe in preservation, but not enough to get involved.” Why is that?

People care most if it’s in their backyard. Notice the large number of respondents to the threat of a new house in the front yard of the historic Old Spring Tavern. I don’t know why more people don’t make their voices heard. Perhaps it’s just that City meetings are long and boring. And City government has enacted recent measures to make the development review process quicker and easier, which has made it harder for the general public to make their voices heard. But people who care need to keep their eyes on what is happening at the Landmarks, Urban Design, and Plan Commissions and the Common Council and make the decisionmakers aware of their concerns. I see that the Madison Trust now has an Advocacy Committee, and that is an excellent first step. The Trust must also have the courage of its convictions and not back down when the going gets tough. It’s not a popularity contest; it is the future livability of Madison that’s at stake.

Madison Trust