Picture it: the late 1950s, when the City of Oakland was dreaming big. City Center was just a twinkle in the eyes of city planners. Picture cozy Victorian and Italianate buildings standing shoulder-to-shoulder, their ornate facades packed with apartments, mom-and-pop shops, and perhaps a few raucous theaters-yes, Oakland had its Moulin Rouge! Instead of smoothies and salads to go, you might catch the scent of fresh bread drifting from Ratto’s delicatessen, a century-old neighborhood staple that stubbornly refused to be swallowed by bulldozers (thanks to some passionate protests).
But change was on the menu. The city decided it wanted a gleaming new city center. Time for “Operation Padlock,” an unfortunately not-so-fun operation where residents of those hotels and shops found themselves evicted, almost overnight, for “code enforcement” reasons. And just like that, whole blocks were cleared out. The original plan was wild-up to 70 city blocks razed for a massive, enclosed mall, sparkling office towers, hotels, and even an aboveground parking fortress. But, as you might expect, there was a bit of a showdown. Local residents and the Downtown Property Owner’s Association raised their voices, and the plan shrank from a giant monster to just a dozen blocks. I guess you could say Oakland took the idea for a spin around the block before committing!
It wasn’t all gloom and doom-the blueprints sketched out by William Liskamm and Rai Okamoto dazzled just enough to scoop up a 1966 Progressive Architecture Award. But as with most epic tales, progress was slow. The very first office building crept onto 14th and Broadway in 1973. Soon after, the Clorox Building-yes, that Clorox-shot up in 1976. But then it was as if City Center fell asleep, taking a nap through the late ‘70s and ‘80s, leaving most of the site echoing with only the sound of the wind and the ghosts of former residents.
By the ‘90s, a new design came to the rescue: an outdoor mall, fresh office towers, and the restoration of some of the old street grid. Yet, just when Oakland was poised for glory, the Loma Prieta earthquake struck in 1989, followed by a recession. Instead of bustling with shoppers and office workers, City Center shuffled along, half-awake, until the mid-‘90s when the federal government stepped in-bringing the Ronald V. Dellums Federal Building and a wave of new footsteps.
The tale keeps unfolding. Developers traded parcels like rare baseball cards; some planned high-rises materialized, others stayed dreams. In 2010, a major sale went down, the kind of deal that makes realtors happy for decades. Through all its ups and downs, the City Center you stand in today remains a monument to big ambitions, community spirit, and the enduring magic of Oakland’s downtown.
By the way, if you hear murmurs on the wind, it’s probably just the old Moulin Rouge troupe complaining about modern parking rates! Shall we keep exploring?
