Rov_Scam
4mo ago
"Inventing new legal theories" is an inherent part of the common law system. Let's take a fairly straightforward case: Smith agrees to by a cow off of Jones for $100, with no terms regarding the order of performance. Several weeks go by and the transaction is not consummated. Each sues the other for breach of contract. This situation vexed judges for literally hundreds of years, until one brilliant judge finally ruled that, to the extent practical, in the absence of any contrary terms both parties are to perform simultaneously. This ruling seems obvious in retrospect, but it was a new idea when it came out. This obviously doesn't involve a lawyer arguing that, since he'd be admitting that the other party hadn't breached the deal, but lawyers use "novel" legal theories all the time. The law as it exists doesn't cover every exact situation, and when you feel that your client has been wronged, or has been unfairly sued, or even that certain evidence should or shouldn't be admitted, you're probably making a novel legal argument.
Rov_Scam
4mo ago
In Pittsburgh, sidewalk maintenance is the responsibility of the adjoining homeowner. The city isn't going to get on you for a crappy sidewalk unless it's hazardous to the point of a code violation, and maybe not even then unless a lot of people are complaining. The image I posted is from a low income area, and the suburban style houses were built in the 70s when the neighborhood was going downhill fast as an attempt to stabilize it. There's a good chance that these homes are owned by elderly black people who simply can't afford cosmetic sidewalk improvements, especially considering that sidewalks are often bad in much nicer areas. The ones on the opposite side of the street were probably redone when the houses were built a few years back, whereas there's a good chance that the suburban side hasn't been touched since those houses were built decades ago.
Pittsburgh: An Urban Portrait
III. The North Shore: When Planners Draw the Map
To old-timers like my father, there is no North Shore. For the past 30 years, every time the neighborhood is mentioned on the news, I hear “When did it become the North Shore? It’s the North Side. There is no shore.” He’s right about it not having a shore. The Allegheny usually sits at lest 6 feet below the riverwalk, and in warmer months there are plenty of boats tied off. As to when it became the North Shore, the earliest reference I’ve seen is from 1974, but I haven’t exactly looked very hard. Nonetheless, for reasons that will soon become apparent, I share my father’s disdain for what feels like a neighborhood that was designed more by city planners than by natural processes. But this time the planners won, and to everyone who isn’t my father, it’s the North Shore.
The North Shore begins roughly at the West End Bridge and runs between the river and the highway for about 2 ½ miles before the last occupied land peters out as you approach the line with the independent borough of Millvale. There are roughly three sections. The first section comprises the area around the stadiums, ending around Federal St. This area was historically known as “The Ward”, the first ward of old Allegheny City, and was similar to the Strip in that it was a rough, mixed-use area near a river with small-scale industry and rowhouses for working-class residents. By the ‘30s the residential areas were being cleared out for warehouses, by the ‘50s the area was run down, by the ‘70s there wasn’t much left. When Three Rivers Stadium was built in the late 1960s, the land it sat on was formerly occupied by a scrap yard. The Carnegie Science Center opened in 1992, but other than that this area was basically a no-man’s land for 30 years, a stadium in a sea of parking lots.
In the ‘90s is when the “North Shore” really took off as a buzzword. The Pirates were demanding a new stadium. The Steelers weren’t exactly demanding one, but they figured that if the Pirates got one then they deserved one too. The Pirates threatened to leave; the Steelers didn’t exactly threaten, but there were mysterious rumors of a stadium being built at a racetrack in a neighboring county. To make a long story short, the teams got their stadiums. I could focus this section on the pros and cons of public stadium financing, but that argument has been done to death. What’s more interesting is the other bullshit that went along with this.
It wasn’t enough that the teams got new stadiums; the North Shore had to be an entertainment district. And in typical municipal fashion the city awarded the exclusive development rights to Continental in a no-bid contract. Development has been consistently behind schedule, though there are rumors that the Steelers are quietly trying to prevent construction on the surface lots because they don’t want to lose tailgating space. The existing footprint is smaller than originally envisioned and a large apartment complex has been delayed for about 15 or 20 years at this point. There’s an okay but rather uninspiring stretch of North Shore Drive that’s occupied by several small office buildings and the kind of bars that sell well drinks by the gallon in a plastic cup after 9 pm, actively recruit bachelorette parties, and reference the “hit” TV show Nashville filming there as a reason to show up. I guess this is what politicians must picture when they envision “nightlife”. In the same vein, when the Port Authority (now PRT) decided to expand the light rail network in the mid-2000s with a tunnel under the Allegheny they decided to make it run west along the Ohio so it could have one stop between the stadiums and a terminus near the casino. This routing pretty much foreclosed the possibility of any network expansion into the more populated parts of the North Side or surrounding suburbs in favor of slightly better access for the occasional southern suburban tourist.
The second section is a small area between Federal St. and Anderson St. that has the most urban feel of the neighborhood. It’s a dense collection of midrises including one attraction, the Warhol Museum (that is, if you don’t include my old office). There may have been residential here at one point, but it’s long gone.
The final section is the most obscure. The remainder of the neighborhood is what used to be Schweitzer Loch, or Swiss Hole. There are a few scattered commercial and industrial concerns along River Ave., and it’s bounded by apartment complexes on either end, including lofts in the old Heinz plant, but it’s mostly empty these days. It’s commonly said that the neighborhood was destroyed when the highways were built between the 60s and the 80s, but that’s not exactly the case. George Warhola, Andy Warhol’s nephew, owns a scrapyard in the area, and he explained the real story to a newspaper a few years back. There were plenty of rowhouses there as late as the 90s, and there are a few remnants of the old neighborhood remaining today. What really happened is that Buncher, the developer largely responsible for the Strip, spent several decades buying up property and demolishing the buildings as soon as the deals closed. The idea was that once the last of their Strip real estate is built out they’ll have acquired the entire area and will be able to build their own model New Urbanist community as a sort of extension of the Heinz Lofts. Warhola basically told them to fuck off innumerable times no matter how much he’s been offered. I say good for him. If some developer wants to tear down a real urban neighborhood so they can build a fake urban neighborhood, they deserve to have a scrap yard in the middle of it. People like Warhola aside, Buncher ended up running into a more formidable foe, the Allegheny County Sanitary Authority (ALCOSAN).
Combined sewage outflows have been a problem in Pittsburgh for quite some time. In the old days, all the sewage, whether from stormwater runoff or domestic water use, went straight into the rivers. In the 1950s ALCOSAN built a treatment plant that was intended to end this practice. The problem is that treatment plants are only built for a certain capacity. While they can handle the actual sewage without a problem, since sanitary lines and storm drains are all tied into the same system, they become overloaded any time there is significant rain (which is pretty often in Pittsburgh). To prevent sewers from backing up into people’s homes, there are several combined sewer outflow points along the rivers and their tributaries. The upshot is that anytime we get more than a tenth of an inch of rain, a certain amount of untreated sewage is being directly discharged into area streams. This isn’t a problem unique to Pittsburgh, but it’s worse here than in any other city in the country.
The most straightforward solution to this problem is to redirect sewage into dedicated lines. The problem is that there is a high cost for the authority to build the dedicated lines, and a high cost for homes to tie into them. The terms of an EPA consent decree meant that houses along the new lines were virtually unsaleable for a while (and accordingly sat vacant), because the cost of redoing the sewerage made buying them financially unfeasible. Decades later, split systems have hardly made a dent in the problem. ALCOSAN’s solution, then, is to build a series of tunnels that will hold the excess stormwater so that it can be treated during dry periods. Construction of the system is expected to take years, but it will reduce combined outflows by 70%. Construction, however, requires a a large amount of land to use as an access point for the boring equipment, and there’s no better place for an access point that a large vacant area along the river. So ALCOSAN bought all of this land off of Buncher earlier this year and will soon tear it all up to build their tunnels. What will happen to the land after this is anyone’s guess (I didn’t read anything about any permanent facilities there), but Buncher is out of the game for the moment. My guess is that once the project is complete Buncher will see what the property looks like and maybe buy it back off of ALCOSAN for less than they sold it for, just in time for them to build their dream community. And since the remaining individual landowners will see their property condemned through eminent domain, Buncher won’t have to deal with the George Warholas of the world. But that’s off the table for now.
What does the future of the North Shore look like? Probably not too dissimilar to the present. The area is still pockmarked with a number of large surface lots that are unlikely to go away unless the Steelers abandon their current stadium for one built elsewhere and this seems unlikely to happen, because the Steelers aren’t the kind of team that’s going to start screaming for a new stadium. I’m convinced they’d still be playing at Three Rivers (which was a very good football stadium but a terrible baseball stadium) if there hadn’t been such a push to build a new home for the Pirates. Heinz Field is already about as old as Three Rivers was when calls for its demolition began, and the lease on Heinz is set to run out in 2031, but the Steelers have already indicated that they intend to renew the lease and at the very least haven’t given any indication they want a new venue. While I promised I wouldn’t get into stadium politics here, I personally find it pretty wasteful that NFL teams can’t share stadiums like they used to. When I worked on the North Side, I’d occasionally take walks along the river and would see Heinz Field invariably standing vacant, a monolithic white elephant. You’re talking about a facility that cost hundreds of millions of dollars that’s used 8 times a year for regular season games plus a couple preseason games and maybe 1 or 2 playoff games if you’re lucky. The situation in Pittsburgh is actually better than in most NFL cities, because Pitt also plays here 6 or 7 times a year. Add on a couple concerts and the occasional miscellaneous large event and you’re talking maybe 20 out of 365 days that you actually need a large stadium. And these events are almost always on weekends, which is great for parking but bad for integrating it into the urban fabric. I don’t find the baseball stadium nearly as distasteful, because they at least use it 81 times a year, and the environment surrounding a weekday or weeknight Pirates game adds a festive air to a normally mundane workday, as opposed to a Steelers game, or even a Pitt game, which is like “dropping a circus” on an area that’s not really used to it.
But, as I mentioned earlier, the Steelers unfortunately seem to be driving the North Shore’s development, which means that the surface lots adjacent to the stadium on the eastern side are unlikely to ever be developed. They actually build a parking garage on one of them at an od angle, the seeming intention being to make the remaining space unusable for anything but surface parking. There was some recent development next to PNC Park, and there’s some planned development on the western side of the stadium, but nothing to suggest that this will ever develop into a real neighborhood. ALCOSAN’s acquisition of the entire Schweitzer Loch area takes that off the table for at least the next half decade, though it seems unlikely that anything would have happened over there in that timeframe anyway. Buncher certainly didn’t seem to have any problem selling it after spending 30 years acquiring it, and if they have to wait another 10 to buy it back it then it’s no great loss. Given that the entire area is being controlled by developers who don’t seem to be in too much of a hurry to do anything, or are at the very least facing strong disincentives (hey, we gave you that sweetheart deal, so you’d better play by our rules), buzzwords like gentrification don’t really apply. I don’t see the area becoming anything more than it already is, at least within my lifetime, but I don’t see it becoming anything less either, so I guess that’s a good thing.
Neighborhood Grade: Non-residential. There are only 3 residential complexes in the neighborhood at present, with a fourth one on the horizon, but they’re pretty well spaced from one another, and Heinz Lofts isn’t even in the official neighborhood boundaries (it’s officially in Troy Hill, but that’s crazy talk). There’s practically nothing in the way of functional businesses here, which is to say that there may be some but I’m not aware of any. When I worked down here there were plenty of casual bar and grill type places I could go to for a greasy lunch, but not much in the way of casual grab and go spots with the exception of a cafeteria-type place in an office complex lobby that was obviously geared towards office workers.
Having reached the conclusion of this section, I want to say that my father’s hatred of the term “North Shore” is symbolic of the type of boneheaded planning the whole area represents. I have no idea what my father’s opinions are on urban development are, if he even has any (and considering my parents moved beyond the suburbs when they were still in their 20s to avoid having neighbors it’s a pretty good bet that he doesn’t), but the whole enterprise seems like one of these misguided efforts to generate a tourist area from scratch. “North Side” sounds too urban and gritty, “North Shore” sounds pleasant and inviting. And I will admit, the riverfront is very well done. I enjoy tailgating as much as the next guy, but why leave what should be prime real estate an empty lot most of the year so that the diminishing percentage of people who can afford to go to Steelers games can drink outside for a few hours beforehand? The worst part of this is that there is plenty of space under elevated highways that’s really only suited for parking, so filling in the remaining holes doesn’t diminish the total amount of tailgate space as much as an aerial photo would suggest. Why redirect your light rail system toward serving a nonresidential area? Why give development rights to one company that can be manipulated rather than selling the parcels individually?
The answer to these questions is fairly simple — there seems to be an obsession among city planners towards catering to suburbanites who may visit a few times a year rather than creating a neighborhood where people might want to live every day of the year. The Tilted Kilt was not the kind of bar one was inclined to go to every day after work. By their own convoluted metrics, the North Shore has been a roaring success. Even the slow pace of development contributes to this illusion. Instead of a quick wave of construction that nobody can keep up with and that comes to an end they get an endless cycle of project announcements, groundbreakings, ribbon cuttings, etc. Rinse and repeat for every 5 acre parcel. Get the mayor’s name in the paper (though to his credit the current mayor hasn’t seemed as involved with this nonsense). The fact that what we end up with is an incongruous mishmash of parking lots, legitimate destinations, and tourist tat is completely lost on the so-called City Fathers.
I assure you I’m not as salty about this as I may seem. The riverfront is a legitimate asset, Stage AE gave us the mid-size concert venue we’d needed since Syria Mosque was torn down, and the bars have their market. It’s certainly a lot better than it was during the Three Rivers Stadium days. It’s just frustrating to realize that certain pressures never go away. History, largely correctly, regards these kinds of large-scale renewal efforts as failures, and one would think that our elected officials and hired planners would be hip to this. But there’s still a tendency to abide by these old principles, even if under another name. If the presence of sports stadiums drives the kind of economic development that politicians promise when they want to spend money on them, then the land they own in the vicinity should sell for top dollar. They shouldn’t need to give one developer rights to the entire area because even if the developer can list 500 reasons why it needs all the land to achieve the city’s vision it will still be more economical to sell the parcels individually at market rates. But the risk there is that things might not turn out as the politicians envision. Instead of a nightclub and Southern Tier Brewing you could end up with anything. A lot of black people live on the North Side; what if the land doesn’t sell for as much as you hoped and the commercial strip in front of the stadium is filled with check cashing places and pawn shops? What if it looks like Forbes Ave. did in the ‘90s? What if it just sits vacant? There’s a push/pull dynamic of city planners seeing an undeveloped area and developing a vision for it, and then trying to make sure that vision is achieved, irrespective of whether there’s a market for that vision or not. Developers show glossy renderings of shiny new buildings surrounded by lush landscaping on sunny days inhabited by happy pedestrians, and everyone — politicians, the media, normal people, etc. — thinks “that would be nice”, and the politicians want to make it happen come hell or high water. So then begins the long fight of trying to realize that vision, to turn renderite into reality. But then come all the external pressures and arguments about traffic, parking, affordable housing, architectural design, and, above all, cost, and the whole thing gets slow-walked and built in a piecemeal fashion, and since this was the vision of politicians and not the market, there’s no guarantee that it will fill any real demand.
So what we get is the North Shore we deserve. A place that’s good enough. Cromulence, if you will. But it’s nonetheless a place where one is forced to reckon with whether full potential was ever realized. A place that’s urban without the urbanity. It has pedestrians but no real street life. It’s an office park in the day, a bar neighborhood at night, and a festival ground on the right weekends, but it rarely manages to be all at the same time. It’s a place where a pleasant riverside stroll among rare beauty leads to a terminal vista of an empty parking lot. It’s frustrating. I’ve walked around here more than most other neighborhoods, and I still don’t know what to make of it.
Addendum to Part I
I got into it a bit in the comments about my remarks that the Parkway running through Point State Park actually added to the park's charm rather than detracting from it. @sarker argued essentially that there was no way this could be the case, as a tunnel would have kept traffic out of the way while a decorative structure such as an arch would have created the same separation of space that the highway does. I wanted to respond here because I don't want the argument to be buried in a stale thread. First, a tunnel isn't feasible in this location. The length of the Parkway through the Point is only about a thousand feet, and most of that space is occupied by ramps. Most of these, however, are disguised by embankments with trees planted on them, the only exception being where the Fort Pitt Museum stands adjacent, blocking the remainder. The entrance is no mere highway underpass; it's a specially designed arch bridge that required a company that manufactured ship hulls to design the falsework. Pedestrians passing through pass over another bridge over a reflecting pool underneath, which is quite stunning at night when the lights from above and below and the lights from the fountain combine on the water's surface. And most views through the tunnel frame the Point fountain in a pleasing way.
Could this effect have been achieved without a highway? Sure, but then we wouldn't have the Ft. Pitt and Ft. Duquesne Bridges framing the scene. More importantly, it wouldn't have. The city initially wasn't thrilled about having the highway situated where it was. The vision had always been for the park to offer a sweeping vista that reminded visitors of Pittsburgh's historic role as the Gateway to the West. They wanted to avoid a simple rectangular underpass that would make the entrance nothing more than a "keyhole slot", didn't want a wider entrance that would require piers, and didn't want a simple archway that would obscure the view of the fountain. The low, wide arch that exists is an engineering marvel in and of itself, albeit an understated one, and it wouldn't exist if necessity hadn't required it.
Addendum to Part II
I was riding my bike in the Strip last week and I noticed some newer houses that merit consideration. Infill construction is always a tricky proposition. It generally comes in two flavors. The first is ultra-modernist monstrosities that act as a giant "fuck you" to the surrounding neighborhood by drawing attention to themselves. I don't think anything is wrong with them per se, but there's something tacky about a building that shows absolutely no regard for the surrounding neighborhood. The house pictured actually won awards when it was built in 2018, and it looks as though it wants every other house on the street to know it. The other kind is what I call "soft urbanism" that attempts to blend in with the existing vernacular but doesn't try too hard, practically giving away that this is new construction and not a lovingly restored home. The basic forms are still there but there is no attention to detail; instead of trying to accurately represent a historic style the features are sanded off in favor of a generic "old style" look. Compounding the problem is that the setbacks are too far from the street, though everything about these houses is still better than the suburban crap they built in the 70s that now looks shabby and anachronistic (the two developments are across the street from one another in a formerly blighted area).
The houses I saw weren't really infill since they're new construction in a previously non-residential area, but they seem to have broken the dilemma. It seems that the key is to build unabashedly modern houses that still pay tribute to to the styles of the past. The large windows, lack of significant ornamentation, and geometric design are clearly modern, but the traditional brick facing and attic dormers add an understated dignity. If one of these were built in a gap of Victorian-era row houses most people probably wouldn't notice, but they're interesting enough architecturally that they avoid the blandness of soft urbanism. They also managed the setback requirements in a way I haven't seen. Instead of plopping them however many feet back and putting an unusably small lawn on the front, they are raised off the ground. The steep slope practically requires some kind of landscaping, and the stairways act as portals to the private worlds within. Having stoops instead of walkways makes it look more like a city and less like a suburban townhouse development. I'd prefer that they ditched the setback requirements altogether (houses built prior to them don't seem to have any trouble selling), but this is a nice workaround.
Rov_Scam
4mo ago
Maybe, but the reason certain boomers will never be fully on board with LEDs is that incandescent bulbs were absolutely dirty cheap even if you didn't buy cheap ones.
Rov_Scam
4mo ago
As a preliminary matter, trials aren't free, and as stingy as insurance companies can be, they'd much rather pay policy holders than attorneys, so the cost of litigation is always going to be a factor. To get to the central reason, though, we have to look at some more arcane details. Even though Remington was insolvent, they still had a duty to protect their creditors and thus a motivation to settle the suit within the policy limits. So they were obviously pushing for settlement. The Plaintiff's were obviously pushing for settlement, and there's a good chance that the judge was as well. As I said in my above post, their lawyers probably told them it was a reasonable settlement amount.That leaves the insurance companies, who may have had a good argument but not exactly a guaranteed defense verdict, especially given the highly sympathetic Plaintiffs and highly unsympathetic defendant. Remington spent several years trying to get the case thrown out but once those efforts failed and they knew the case would go to a jury, the jig was about up.
So what about the insurance companies? On paper their exposure was limited. In reality, the insurer has a duty to act in good faith. If everyone involved wants to settle and the insurers refuse, it's likely that they're going to be held responsible for the entire verdict, regardless of the policy limits (maybe not the entire verdict but you catch my drift). As soon as the jury delivers an eye watering verdict the insurers are going to be hit with a bad faith suit from Remington that they're going to have to spend even more money defending just so they can get the court to say they're only responsible for 70% of the excess rather than 100%.
Rov_Scam
4mo ago
Remington settled, so there's really no deep dive to be had. From a litigator's perspective, 73 million divided by nine plaintiffs is about 8 million per, which is about in line with what I'd evaluate a case with a murdered child for, especially considering that the sympathy factor is high here, and especially since there have been a lot of ridiculously high verdicts lately in some jurisdictions (though I don't know about where the suit was filed). When you consider that a jury would have easily awarded at least 20 million per had the plaintiffs won, 8 million seems about in the ballpark for what I'd recommend if I were their attorney.
Rov_Scam
4mo ago
He's on the hook himself. The problem is that he owns his corp (at least in substantial proportion) so the company itself is fair game. The Plaintiff's are looking to settle in a manner that will keep the company operational but they rejected Jones's proposal and gave a counteroffer that Jones rejected.
Rov_Scam
4mo ago
It isn't a procedural trick; it's an essential part of the system. You don't get to dodge litigation by failing to cooperate, and after 2 years the judge is backed into a corner.
Rov_Scam
4mo ago
The US bankruptcy code (it's all Federal, except for in a few specific areas) is similar but doesn't require "bodily harm", only "willful and malicious injury". Courts have said for a long time that this basically means all intentional torts.
Rov_Scam
4mo ago
You don't get a default judgement against you because of the Plaintiff's "procedural tricks". You end up with a default judgement because of monumental incompetence where you don't respond to repeated requests, miss critical deadlines, and ignore court orders. These things aren't optional.
Rov_Scam
4mo ago
No , there's no incentive. In the auto accident case, running over the person again turns ordinary negligence into an intentional tort which means insurance won't cover any damages and the verdict won't be dischargeable in bankruptcy. In the defamation case, you're talking about the unintended actions of a third party, unless you openly advocate for assassination, in which case defamation doesn't apply. This is all without even mentioning the associated criminal charges.
Rov_Scam
4mo ago
Claims about Trump being a "threat to democracy" aren't specific enough to constitute defamation. Russian agent claims could plausibly be specific enough, but it would come down to specific statements. There's also the issue that public figures such as Trump have to meet a higher standard when proving defamation claims than private citizens like the Sandy Hook parents do.
I'd also add that,. while it seems counterintuitive, wrongful death claims are almost always worth less than cases where the plaintiff is living, even when the plaintiff is in decent shape. Your hypothetical of an assassination is geared toward rock bottom damages because the relatively minimal amount of pain and suffering combined with the inability of the plaintiff to testify about that pain and suffering means you're not getting much in the way of non-economic damages. In most cases like this you'd be looking at maybe a million for the decedent, a couple hundred thousand for the widow, and maybe 50 grand for each of the kids. Maybe up that to three million because it's Trump, but these damages aren't unique and you'd have a hard time justifying more than that. Compare that with unassuming people who suffered an unimaginable loss and then had to contend with years of harassment from people who claimed they were faking it, and they're all available to testify about how much of a nightmare it was and there's little the defense can do on cross to counter. It's not a typical scenario and there aren't any clear guidelines on how to value something like that.
The bigger factor in damages in a hypothetical Trump assassination would be economic damages far in excess of what a normal person has, but this would rest on the testimony of various economic experts who would have to contend with the tendency of his companies to show a net loss for tax purposes. I'm actually working on a case right now where a guy is claiming excessive economic damages based on a speculative business venture that was derailed by the Plaintiff's death, and this shit gets messy.
Rov_Scam
4mo ago
At first I thought you were confused when you described these as pizza places (i.e. they just happen to be owned by someone named Pirmanti) but I checked the website and they are "official" locations, even if they bear no actual resemblance to a normal location. For the record, Pirmanti's isn't known as a pizza place, and I don't think the smaller urban locations even serve pizza. It looks like the Florida locations were existing pizza places that got a franchise to use the name and sell the sandwiches, with no effort made to resemble the ones in Pittsburgh. Apparently the actual company doesn't care that much about consistent stores. That being said, I normally wouldn't go to a Pirmanti's while on vacation because I can get that here whenever I want to. But since it's evidently a bastardized bizarro version, I'm intrigued.
Rov_Scam
4mo ago
Pittsburgh: An Urban Portrait
Part II: The Strip District
Early development in Pittsburgh didn’t radiate evenly from the Point but was focused along the rivers. The most obvious location for initial expansion, then, was in the area known, aptly, as the Strip District. Its boundaries are well-defined and uncontroversial. The southern boundary is at 11th St. at the Convention Center, and the northern boundary is at 34th St. near Doughboy Square. Between these points, it occupies the narrow strip of land between the Allegheny River and a hillside so steep there are no road connections from there to the neighborhood on top (though there used to be an incline). The Strip began as a typical industrial/residential/commercial working-class area like any other river district in the days before zoning. No other neighborhood was more important to Pittsburgh’s early industrial history: This was the neighborhood where the bullets for the War of 1812 were cast in the nation’s first iron foundries, the neighborhood where George Westinghouse started producing airbrakes, the neighborhood Charles Martin Hall of what was then known as the Pittsburgh Reduction Company started producing aluminum. James Parton was looking down on the Strip from that aforementioned hill in 1868 when he famously described Pittsburgh as “Hell with the lid off”.
In 1906, the city removed freight tracks that continued Downtown along Liberty Ave. With the railroad now terminating in a yard at Smallman St., the area became a prime location for wholesalers to set up warehouse operations. The Strip had industrialized in the days before people like Andrew Carnegie could build mega-mills on virgin land, so the parcels were of a much smaller size. As the original industries left due to lack of scale, more and more of the area became occupied by warehouses. As the 20th Century wore on, the warehouses expanded and residential areas were demolished; the neighborhood’s population, over 17,000 in the early decades, was below 5,000 in 1940. As the wholesale trade diminished in the 1950s, merchants began opening retail outlets to supplement their existing wholesale business, focused on the Penn Ave. corridor, and by the 1970s the Strip had a reputation as a place where you could find fresher meat and produce than you can get in a grocery store, as well as hard to find oddities. But the rest of the district was an assortment of warehouses, light industrial concerns, parking lots, and storage yards. By 2000, the residential population had dwindled to a mere 266.
The Strip had an abortive resurgence in the 90s as part of an attempt to make it a nightlife district, but the story of the modern strip begins in 2006, when the former Armstrong Cork & Seal factory was converted into loft apartments. Since then, construction has been more or less constant. The semi-abandoned industrial areas have been replaced by high-end condominiums and office blocks, but there’s still enough industry left to give the area a raffish feel. The current population stands at about 3,200 and is expected to double in the immediate future just based on what’s under construction or ready to build. But the real draw is the shopping. Those wholesalers I mentioned earlier? They never left. When the rest of the neighborhood was run down and industrial, Penn Avenue had an almost carnival-like atmosphere, especially on weekends. Younger people don’t seem to appreciate this, but in the ‘80s and ‘90s there was no “foodie culture” or whatever other horrible phrase you want to use. Supermarkets carried stuff that everyone bought, and even things we take for granted now like prosciutto and avocados were hard to come by. Some specialty stores sold this stuff, but most supermarkets didn’t, and unless you knew about these places you were out of luck. But everyone knew about the Strip. If you wanted some oddity, it was common practice to assume you could get it there; even if you didn’t know where you were going you could just walk into a random store and ask and if they didn’t sell it they’d direct you toward who did. The atmosphere has gotten even better in recent years, as the commercial district has expanded from Penn and spilled onto neighboring streets. The big regional chain now sells specialty stuff, and even Aldi’s carries things you couldn’t find 30 years ago, but if you want to buy pheasant, or raw oysters, or even just olive oil in bulk at a reasonable price, the Strip is the place to get it. Hell, I can get fresher fish at Wholey’s than I can at any beach town in North Carolina I’ve ever been to.
With all the change, there are some contrarians out there who think that all this construction is a bad thing. They bemoan how they’re turning a historic working-class neighborhood into a place for yuppies and tech bros. The thing is, there was really nothing there to miss. I don’t think these people are truly nostalgic for tow yards, mid-century warehouses, and lots where they store pipe and electrical transformers. Most of these places were just sitting idle anyway. Consider: Everything in this shot is new construction. It may not win any architectural awards, but it doesn’t exactly look like a suburban office park. Now consider what the area looked like in 2008. Feeling nostalgic? If people are going to complain about losing the old neighborhood, the time to complain was well before they were born. The “old neighborhood” was mostly gone before the War, when the construction of the big mills drew jobs out of the neighborhood and the smaller industries that remained couldn’t support the old population on their own. Sure, it would be nice if the old housing stock remained, and some of it still does, but I’d rather build for the future than bemoan the past.
But these people are wrong in a more fundamental way; the heart of the Strip is, and will always be, Penn Avenue. As much as people may want to complain about gentrification (more accurately yuppification, since there were no existing residents to displace), the entire commercial district is local. There are few national chains horning in on the neighborhood. The more well-known businesses here are institutions; something like 20% have existed for more than a century. And the newer businesses have the feel of places that intend on becoming institutions; there’s very little corporate feel. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention Pirmanti’s. Yes, it’s more of a local gimmick like the Philly Cheese Steak than fine dining. Yes, it’s overrated in the media. Yes, it’s still delicious. No, the original doesn’t taste any better than the innumerable franchise locations that are popping up everywhere. That being said, there is something to be said for innumerable franchise locations ruining the mystique of a special place. It used to be that you’d eat at Pirmanti’s when you went to the Strip because you heard about it but never got the chance to try it because the Strip was out of the way for most people. It used to be open 24 hours and was a popular place to get a late night snack during the Strip’s old club days. Now every suburb and exurb has one and I think they opened one in Florida, and they expanded the menu to include pizza and wings and a bunch of other stuff that wasn’t the classic sandwich, and these days, to most Pittsburghers, it’s just another restaurant.
That being said, there is a bit of anxiety among current residents that the big chains will see the massive population increase push out the local merchants who made the neighborhood attractive to them in the first place. While this is a possibility, I’d say it’s a slim one. The old commercial corridor on Penn Ave really only runs between 17th and 23rd streets. The area closer to Downtown is more sparsely developed and has a lot of parking lots. After 23rd street development becomes spotty and increasingly industrial until you’re in a sort of no-man’s-land until you get to Lawrenceville. The streets off of Penn toward the river are seeing the most development but aren’t as historically prized and don’t contain many of the classic strip businesses. Most telling, though, is that developers keep opening new retail space, and so far, little of it has gone to chains. The old produce terminal on Smallman St. was sitting abandoned for years after wholesale distribution moved to a larger modern building on the river. The recent redevelopment of the retail portion has been mostly local. Even if a significant chain store presence does materialize, I doubt that it will affect the existing, “classic” retail element too much. This stuff existed long before the Strip had any significant office space or residential development, and the chains that have moved in seemed geared toward meeting the demands of residents and office workers more than those of the weekend tourist crowd. Maybe some clueless suburban shoppers will grab lunch at Chipotle rather than Pamela’s or the cafeteria at Wholey’s, but a neighborhood needs unglamorous, functional places to work as a neighborhood. There’s been recent discussion of a Trader Joe’s moving into the part of the Strip closer to Downtown, and this hasn’t attracted much criticism. Downtown residents don’t really have anywhere to buy groceries, and while the wholesale outlets are fine for some things, they aren’t really places where you can do all of your shopping. There’s something odd about a neighborhood where you can get 759 different varieties of olives but not toothpaste. So I suspect this fear is largely unfounded.
Neighborhood Grade: Upper Middle Class. As I said earlier, it’s not really gentrified because there was no existing residential population of any substance, and the housing is all new construction. Parts of it were seedy, but it was never dangerous and has always been a draw for outsiders. There were never any rehabs for sale, no one ever felt like an urban pioneer moving here, it was just that one day someone built luxury apartment and the next thing you knew there were a lot of luxury apartments. It was never a hip neighborhood for artists or bohemian types. Urbanists need to take note because it doesn’t follow the standard playbook, and I’m honestly surprised that it even exists.
Rov_Scam
4mo ago
The value of the estate for tax purposes is market value, not realized value. Often they're the same, as in the case when the property is sold in an arm's length transaction, but discounted sales to insiders are always suspect. Consider that most estate assets are what could be termed "maximally impaired" in the sense that they're given away for free. This doesn't make the value zero. You can't offer your nephew the option of purchasing your Picasso for a hundred bucks and claim that that's all it's worth for estate tax purposes. The fact that the company only paid 3 million for the shares is irrelevant, and is why the estate has an independent valuation done as part of the audit. The case was about whether the accountant who did the valuation correctly treated the redemption requirement as a liability, and the court ruled that he didn't.
Rov_Scam
4mo ago
The amount paid for the shares is irrelevant here since the case is about Michael's estate tax obligation, which requires him to pay taxes on the value of his assets at the date of death. The value of the company on that date includes the value of the life insurance proceeds. The defendant was arguing that the buyback requirement created an offsetting liability that diminished the value of the stock Michael held.
Rov_Scam
4mo ago
There is no one second hypothetical here as there's no legal assumption that any of the events happened simultaneously — he dies, some time thereafter the insurance is paid out, and some time after that the company completes the redemption. In real life we're probably talking several months. At the time of Michael's death the company was worth 6.86 million, and it continued to be worth as much after his death.
And while the intent may have been clear, the means used had the effect of nearly doubling the company's value. It's easy to talk about intent, but eventually this devolves into "I intended to minimize my tax burden", and you end up having to give the benefit of the doubt to people who take actions wherein reducing the tax burden is clearly contrary to public policy. Practically any tax avoidance scheme, no matter how hard brained, becomes effective. The fact that convoluted schemes are often used is unfortunate, but it's the nature of the business.
Rov_Scam
4mo ago
The difference is that the cash spent on the buybacks reduces the value of the company. To use the example from the case, suppose I hold an 80% share in a company whose only asset is 10 million in cash; that 80%share is worth 8 million. Redeeming the other 20% costs the company 2 million, so now I hold a 100% share of a company worth 8 million. The redemption hasn't affected the value of my shares. If, on the other hand, I purchased the 20% interest from the other investors, my shares, the company would still have 10 million in the bank, and my 100% share would be worth 10 million.
Rov_Scam
4mo ago
That the expected payout was a company asset wasn't at issue in this case. The issue was whether the redemption obligation created a liability that cancelled out that asset.
Rov_Scam
4mo ago
Maybe it's just that it's an AI event where this kind of thing is par for the course? I mean, one of the best-known AI "experts" is Yudkowsky, who doesn't even have the benefit of a GED and never did any substantive work on AI in his life. He founded an NGO at 21 and has been leeching off of the Silicon Valley money machine ever since. At least an HR manager has experience in making sure everyone gets paid on time.
Rov_Scam
4mo ago
"Political party affiliation is added to more such laws" is doing a lot of work here. There is not, to my knowledge, any serious push to do this on the Federal level. In states that have prohibitions on political party discrimination and disparate impact (i.e. California), I'm not aware of any attempt to challenge the doctrine.
Rov_Scam
4mo ago
I didn't read the entire transcript, but I scanned Cohen's testimony, and I couldn't find any instances where he's asked to draw legal conclusions. The only thing approaching that that I could see, as you said in your initial comment, was that he admitted to having plead guilty to certain Federal crimes. The defense never challenged the admissibility of this testimony in general. They filed a motion in limine to prohibit the prosecution from using those pleas as evidence that the underlying crimes were committed, and they won that motion. The evidence of the pleas was admitted so that the jury could evaluate Cohen's credibility, and the judge gave a limiting instruction as soon as they came up. The defense's motion conceded that the plea evidence was admissible for that purpose. They never tried to get the evidence out entirely, and it wasn't in their interest to, either, because without the evidence of the pleas, it would seriously hinder their attempts to discredit Cohen. Given the limited nature of what Cohen actually testified to on direct, the prosecution probably wouldn't have even opposed a defense motion to keep the plea evidence out entirely, since the defense would have had much less to work with.
Beyond that, I don't want to get into too many details, but inadequate jury instructions and insufficiency of evidence are usually long shots when it comes to getting an appeals court to overturn a jury verdict. I argue in another post somewhere that intent (most of the time) doesn't require knowledge that the action is illegal. As for that last bit, it wasn't so much about hiding information from voters as it is hiding expenditures from voters. Laws requiring disclosures were created with the express intent of creating a certain transparency in election-related spending. I was reacting to the commenters here who were saying that Trump was in a kind of Catch-22 because there was no way he could have made the payment without drawing the scrutiny of the FEC. This clearly isn't true; if I were Trump's attorney I would have told him that if he wants to be completely safe he should pay it out of his personal funds and report it as a campaign expense. Alternatively, he could pay it out of his personal funds and not report it because unless it's obvious that sort of thing is rarely punished. Paying it out of campaign funds and reporting it isn't recommended but at least it makes it look like he's on the up and up. What I wouldn't tell him to do is to have a third party make the payments so they can't be traced to him, and then create phony documents to obfuscate the reimbursement.
Rov_Scam
4mo ago
I think you're assuming that intent to commit a crime requires knowledge of the criminal nature of the underlying act, when that's not the case (except in limited circumstances). To go back to the burglary example, suppose a thief breaks into a house with the intention of stealing a watch worth $800. The value of the watch isn't in dispute. The burglary statute requires intent to commit a felony, and the larceny statute makes it a felony to steal goods valued over $500. If the defendant is charged with burglary, he won't get the burglary charge dismissed by demonstrating that he genuinely believed that the statute only made it a felony if the item was worth over $1,000, arguing that because of his mistake of law he only intended to commit a misdemeanor and not a felony. To go back to the paper clip example and tie it into the New York statute at issue, suppose it's illegal to buy paperclips, and a junior executive at a company notices that one of his underlings bought paperclips. He doesn't know that this is illegal, but knows that his boss, the CEO, said that it was against company policy to buy them, so he forges documents making it look like the purchase was for something else. He can't argue that he didn't intend to conceal a crime because he didn't know what he was doing was a crime. He intended to conceal the purchase, which happens to be a crime, and he accordingly intended to conceal evidence of a crime; his knowledge of the legality of the underlying activity isn't relevant here.
There might not be anything exactly on point, but there isn't any case law I'm aware of that explicitly prohibits it, and the "lay of the land", so to speak, suggests it's okay. The courts have already ruled that Federal offenses could count for the old "habitual criminal" laws, and RICO cases usually involve state predicates. Neither of these is exactly on point, but they are indicative of the idea there isn't any problem with the cross-jurisdicational aspect of the case. I'm not entirely sold on the idea that there isn't an argument here, so if you have one, I'd love to hear it, but nothing I can think of off the top of my head suggests that this would be a problem.
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