Convention Campus
Portland, Oregon, USA
a story from 1902 to 2024+
[business lesson: vision]
This is a historical record of people, actions, events and places that are equivalent elements of a grand story spanning over 100 years. To conceive, plan, build and use the place connects yesterday and today with tomorrow.
(to the reader: shown here is brief text from nine episodes of a possible book, Convention Campus, half written by the onset of the global coronavirus pandemic of 2020-2021. A tenth episode, covering early 2020 until present day, is loosely assembled.)
Ralph Lloyd’s Vision
(In the upcoming book this episode will detail the people and the activity from the early 1900's up until the late 1950's.)
Ralph B. Lloyd was born in 1875 in Ventura, California and first came to the Pacific Northwest in 1907. He developed two strong convictions, perhaps due to the success of the Lewis and Clark Exposition held two years earlier. The first was that Portland Oregon would become a great city. The second was that the east side of the Willamette River should be the center of that city (a matter of fact deduction Lloyd seemingly made, since the west shore was an established working harbor humming with ship traffic).
Lloyd was there, a witness to a population growth spurt. Between the years 1905 and 1910 resident counts jumped from 161,000 to 270,000.
Lloyd himself had purchased his first parcel of Portland real estate in 1910, buying two lots on the northwest corner of Union Avenue (now Martin Luther King, Jr. Blvd.) and Multnomah Street. But in 1911, Lloyd returned to California to manage the family ranch where he brought in his first oil gusher in 1920. Almost overnight, he became a very wealthy man. Using oilman profits from California he continued to buy small pieces of Oregon land throughout Portland's East Side until 1926, when he was finally able to purchase the largely undeveloped Holladay’s Addition and, later, 170 lots on both sides of Sullivan’s Gulch.
Lloyd had to contend with skeptics and local business opposition from "west siders" who did not believe the east side could or should be allowed to prosper, let alone be recognized as the "center of the city."
Ralph B. Lloyd died in 1953, without seeing his "east side" dreams fully realized, and perplexed by Portland’s conservative attitudes toward development.
Bud Saw Pat’s List
(In the upcoming book this episode will detail the people and the activity from the late 1950's up until the mid 1980's.)
By their 1954 vote Portland citizenry approved an $8 million construction bond to design and erect a stunning concrete and aluminum palace clad in gray glass. Sometimes referred to as "The Glass Palace" even decades later, the Veterans Memorial Coliseum dedication on January 8, 1961 noted the "advancement of cultural opportunities for the community.”
Although built with 9,000 seats, the "MC" inspired a group of developers in 1963 to think even bigger so as to attract a major professional sport franchise. Looking north to the former site of Vanport City, a housing project for World War II workers decimated by a 1948 flood, the Delta Dome was proposed. It was to be big and bold. But voters in 1964 rejected a funding plan, followed in 1965 by an unsuccessful legislative effort to impose a three percent hotel and lodging tax.
Fueled by a Gladstone Associates market study completed in June 1978, talk began to tout a “significant new ‘basic industry’ for Portland” and potential locations were proposed. Soon a most dynamic moment occurred. Authored in 1985 by Pat LaCrosse, a no-nonsense community leader and respected visionary at the Metropolitan Exposition-Recreation Commission, a meticulous two column list on two pages of yellow pad paper inventoried possible civic and community projects to ignite local commerce. Presented for review in a private meeting with Bud Clark, Portland's newly elected mayor, LaCrosse heard Clark blurt out "This one! We're going to build a convention center!"
Bricks and A Pizza Box
(In the upcoming book this episode will detail the people and the activity from the mid 1980's up until late fall of 1990.)
In November 1985 Portland voters approved a $65 million bond to support the new “Oregon Convention Center” and two months later Governor Neil Goldschmidt pledged support for $15 million in state funding.
Groundbreaking ceremonies were held May 17, 1988, a typical overcast 60 degree day with light rain showers. On hand were high school marching bands and drill teams, elected officials, entity representatives, construction managers and citizens. Rena Cusma, Metro Executive Officer, delivered master of ceremonies remarks with excitement and confidence.
For the next 28 months the 17 block site on Willamette River east bank, bounded by NE Union, NE Holladay, and I-5 was occupied daily by up to 350 construction workers at a time.
Architects Robert Frasa and Dan Huberty of the Zimmer Gunsul Frasca Partnership saw concept become reality in spring 1989 with the center's "crowning" of iconic twin steel towers. The landmark spires were glazed with 53,500 square feet of green-tinted glass to allow a dramatic flood of light down into the center’s lower level.
Association managers and corporate event planners were offered a fresh destination and sophisticated image by the Greater Portland Convention and Visitors Association, eventually known as the Portland Oregon Visitors Association. Sent out on sales missions to Washington, New York, and Chicago, POVA sales representatives often walked into boardrooms carrying a cardboard “pizza box” containing a detailed scale model of the new building.
Nearing completion, 407,000 bricks were laid at the front facade, some inscribed with the names of the very association and corporate event planners who had professed interest.
Fareless Square
(In the upcoming book this episode will detail the people and the activity from the fall of 1990 up until the late 1990's.)
Fareless Square was a fare-free public transit area spanning the Central City and Lloyd Districts. Launched in 1975, objectives included encouragement of public transit such as MAX light rail and Portland Streetcar plus making travel easier and faster for retail and recreation.
Budget concerns and sporadic security and safety issues for Tri-Met, the regional transit agency, was ultimately the straw that broke the camel’s back. But at its peak the free transit zone played a critical role in a cosmetic sense as well as a practical one during two key timeframes, namely the construction phase of the Oregon Convention Center and then on thoughout the 1990s.
With large being loosely defined as 5,000 delegates or more, the ability to book large conventions required significant commitment of available hotel rooms from across the Willamette River to the west in downtown Portland as well as those within immediate walking distance of the center on the east bank. It was the only way to beat out the big single property hotels in San Francisco or Las Vegas.
Cosmetically speaking, Fareless Square was the spine that made the campus concept work as it tethered all the reserved hotel rooms together. Like a college campus, it mattered less where one stayed as long as one could get to where they needed to be without effort.
It worked, beautifully. People liked it. Frequent service by sleek MAX light rail cars heading east and winding through downtown afforded riders a great urban streetscape and view of the 59 acre Tom McCall Waterfront Park and the Japanese American Historical Plaza before crossing the Willamette River via the Steel Bridge and ending the ten minute ride at the front plaza of the OCC. Like the ocean tides coming in and going out at Cannon Beach, a long day clocked by convention-goers ended with a “return home” MAX line ride in reverse with ample restaurants waiting in the downtown core.
A Panoramic View
(In the upcoming book this episode will detail the people and the activity from the late 1990's up until the early 2000's.)
Documentation of pent up demand from convention planners who chose other cities due to Portland’s inadequate meeting space or lack of a headquarters hotel was argued in favor of a November 1988 bond measure. So was short and long term job growth. Voters disagreed, overwhelmingly. City and county officials and Metro, Tri-County Lodging Association, Portland Oregon Visitors Association and the rental car industry nonetheless found a way other than the ballot box to finance the convention center expansion via an increase in hotel taxes and rental car taxes. Later, when leaving office after twelve years, Portland Mayor Vera Katz was to include the $116 million center expansion as one of her proudest achievements.
As they were for the first phase, Zimmer Gunsul Frasca was once again chosen as project architect which would add another 407,464 square feet to the existing 500,000 square-foot structure. Exhibit space would double and new meeting rooms would be added. Through the windows on the upper story, dramatic wrap-around views were planned sweeping from the east to the Willamette River and downtown located to the west plus an overlook to a series of landscaped terraces extending around the edge of the building.
Careful coordination went into meeting the expectations of the expansion’s partners and supporters. On opening day in April 2003, community representatives and neighborhood associations looked back upon their specific impact on issues including workforce development, which manifested in a successful Workforce Training Program allowing trade apprentices to occupy twenty percent of the onsite construction force.
Maybe A Hotel Maybe Not
(In the upcoming book this episode will detail the people and the activity from the early 2000's up until the early 2010's.)
Measured in attendee days (number of attendees multiplied by the event length) convention attendance continued to decrease from a high of 896,927 in 1999. But it wasn’t just Portland.
From a peak of 4.7% in 1999, national gross domestic product fell sharply to 1% by 2001 before climbing back briefly to a new peak of 3.8% by 2004. An even deeper decline was to follow for five years. The burst of the housing bubble and the subprime mortgage crisis preceeded a severe nationwide recession from December 2007 to June 2009.
Nothing seemed constant in the meetings industry as supply and demand was dramatically at play throughout the entire decade. Arguing in a 2005 Brookings Institution paper that the convention industry was in decline, Heywood Sanders, an economist at the University of Texas at San Antonio and eventual author of the book Convention Center Follies, stated at the time "there has been a steady stream of cities over the last decade and a half that have been told by consultants or by one or another elected official that the one way to get more convention center business is to get a headquarters hotel next door,"
Undaunted, perhaps by self-reliance and resolve to regain local economic growth, fresh validation appeared in a 2008 Metro analysis which surmised that a new large hotel could bring eight to 10 additional events to town along with delegates spending an estimated $55 million. POVA sales representatives, after all, had been touting the idea since 1988; maybe the final piece of the puzzle would finally be in place.
Civic leaders in support of finally getting something done included Roy Jay, seemingly everywhere as a big personality entrepreneur and tireless supporter of the convention and meetings industry, who by his perserverence was an inspiration to many.
And so by September 2012 officials had officially opened negotiations with a team for a Hyatt-branded "headquarters hotel" with at least 600 rooms.
Bonds Grants and Taxes
(In the upcoming book this episode will detail the people and the activity from the early 2010's up until the late 2010's.)
At the Friday Forum on September 6, 2013, the City Club presented Thomas Hazinski and Heywood Sanders to have at it for forty-five minutes. The hotel debate that day did not disappoint.
Front and center was the public-private partnership proposal totaling $198 million which would include a $118 million private investment from Minneapolis based firm Mortenson Development, $60 million in Metro issued bonds backed by revenues from room taxes paid by hotel guests, $10 million in state lottery funds, a $4 million Portland Development Commission loan, and a $4 million Metro grant.
A public policy devotee and University of Chicago graduate respected by Wall Street investors and bond insurers, Hazinski had expertise in hospitality, entertainment, and sports projects. As defacto representative of supporters he repeatedly highlighted the overall appeal of the second-tier city and the need to act quickly.
As an economist Professor Sanders from the University of Texas was known nationally for lecturing about many less enthusiastic sober lessons learned. Sanders focused on number crunching and the uphill battle of making such a project pencil out in the face of balance sheet realities plus fierce competition fueled by equivalent community booster pride.
Into the next couple of years a coalition of hotel opponents – mostly other hotel operators including the Hilton Portland, Aspen Lodging, and members of the Asian American Hotel Owners Association - argued that voters should have a say whether or not lodging taxes could be used to repay bonds.
In May 2015 Metro officials offered to give opponents a plot of land in exchange for dropping numerous lawsuits against the hotel project. But by November that same year the Oregon Supreme Court agreed to hear the case that challenged Metro's plans.
Sunshine On Golden Shovels
(In the upcoming book this episode will detail the people and the activity in the late 2010's.)
Sharply at 10am on August 4 2017 a ceremonial ground-breaking event took place on a empty gravel covered construction site near the corner of NE Holladay Street and NE Second Avenue. Morning temperatures were clearly headed towards a forecasted 96 degree day under a cloudless sky. There was no wind blowing and no music playing but chimes were occasionally heard from nearly MAX trains as they stopped at the OCC boarding station. There were hugs and handshakes, photographers and videographers, and water bottles perched atop ice filled tubs.
Dan Mehls from Mortenson Construction called the bustling crowd to attention and first remarks were given by Tom Hughes from Metro Council. "Who'da thought?" he enthusiastically asked as the gravity of the moment began to sink in. Karis Stoudamire - Phillips from the Metropolitan Exposition and Recreation Commission ended her remarks with a sincere "thanks, Mom!" and picking up on that same fun idea Portland Mayor Ted Wheeler delivered his thoughts but generated similar laughter as he also included a parental salute.
Tom Lander from Mortenson, Kimo Bertram from Hyatt Hotels Corporation, and Barry Schlesinger of Schlesinger Corporation all expressed their acknowledgements for the pathway traveled by so many. And then, one by one, groups of dignitaries assembled and each took turns donning hard hats and safety vests to dig in and turn a scoopful of dirt for the cameras.
It was finally going to happen.
Who Will Follow The First
(In the upcoming book this episode will attempt to catalog the predictions for what might become in the 2020's and beyond.)
As it has gone since USA's expansive 1950's but more so in the exploratory 1960's one decade seems to turn up the heat higher than the last with seemingly unstoppable intercity competition for metrics such as airport arrivals, delegate counts, hotel room average daily rates and tax revenues.
In corporate business for an entity to stay afloat on its own over time without (or even with) substantial subsidy the bottom line is generating revenue that outweighs the preparation and operational costs.
But if it is an intangible concept that must stay afloat, say a thriving and desirable convention destination, living up to wider audience expectations of how to reach that sustainable net positive is complicated and often political.
If intangibles are considered currency, as it were, how can intangibles be measured? And how does one assign values to certain elements? It is the stuff of vibes and chemistry, a likeability factor. More subjective things such as synergies of a place and civic pride may carry value depending upon the observer.
Cultural heritage that exists and is perpetuated in a place without the presence of tourists is further validated when consumed as an experience by outsiders who choose to visit. Communities by circumstantial default or clever forward seeking design proactively cultivate contextual themes by which they want to be seen, either as learning centers or working laboratories or “experience places” or "emotion places" and invite outsiders to stop by and take a peek. The attention can be intoxicating, sure, but asking in all fairness can the trajectory always reach even higher peaks, can a theme always stay in vogue as generations make their travel decisions and judgments?
Maybe. If one considers New York or Paris, Athens or Sydney, Berlin or Bombay. Transcending generations, indeed there are places that endure.