
For the past month, this project has been very task focused: city permitting, insurance paperwork, scheduling giant lifts to install equally as giant banners, organizing chefs, printing and mailing dinner tickets, arranging lighting, procuring a bison and finding a place to prepare it, locating enough platters to serve 500 people, scheduling porta potties, and sleuthing out banner sponsors who see value in the project (a very special type in the world today). Yesterday, while on a daily jog to clear an often overloaded mind, I realized these days aren’t much reflecting that of landscape architecture. The last 16 years have been entirely devoted to studying, designing, and developing sites; rooftops and plazas, memorials, streetscapes, entire city plans, transportation hubs; in the United States and abroad, in both developed and developing nations. The traditional work of landscape architecture is often very separated from those who will use the finished space, and the work happens at a computer, drawing after drawing in AutoCad to instruct a contractor how to build a very limited scope of topography.
I’m not sure what the shift to scheduling porta potties means for a landscape architecture career, but I do know this project is shaping a site. It may not be as black and white as a new streetscape or sportsfield under the tuteledge of a laborious set of construction drawings, but watching the obsolete and forgotten railroad parcel next to the grain elevator morph by way of many different hands and interests is certainly a type of landscape evolution.
When the grain elevator and its servicing railtrack went into disuse in the 80′s, so did upkeep. Maintaining weeds and gigantic structure no longer performing its original function at this scale is a full time job – just ask the new owners of the elevator, Silo Extreme Outdoor Adventures, who spend their days and nights taming a place where everything is GIANT. Until several weeks ago, this natural continuation of the hiking and biking trail to the north stopped abruptly with dark groves of trees, weeds, and random industrial waste. After several meetings with the City of Omaha about gaining appropriate access to hang the banners, host 500 people for dinner, and hopefully eventually building out this missing piece of the trail, Parks and Recreation descending upon the site with payloaders, dump trucks, chain saws, and a crew. Within a day, the site was cleared of decades worth of overgrowth, empty grafitti spraypaint cans, and buckets of oil, all exposing where the silos meet the ground – a small pleasure for someone obsessed with the system (landscape) that supports everything we humans construct and inhabit.

A couple weekends later, volunteers from the Hanscom Park Neighborhood Association showed up on a Saturday morning with rakes, shovels, machetes, and wheelbarrows to apply finishing touches and show their support for this new era of the industrial site. Since that Saturday, a dedicated site crew (Randy Smith and Nick Soper) have done even more prep work. Cumulatively, a huge amount of work done in a way that, as a landscape architect, I had only seen verified contractors, with all the correct paperwork, perform.

We hope the project as a whole begins to shape a landscape much larger than the parcel next to the elevator; our backyards, the city streets we drive on, the fields that grow our food, the aquifers that exist below the ground we walk on and supply us with drinking water, and the fields that once produced food and now produce homes. None of these exist apart from the others, and for this single moment in time, will converge at this giant, simple, and iconic concrete structure.