2. Retail: What’s That?
Back in 2017, Walgreens decided it needed to jazz up Downtown Orlando with a 6,400 square-foot store—because nothing says “urban revolution” like a chain pharmacy in a building that used to house something as thrilling as the First National Bank and Trust Company, circa the late 1930s.
Now, while you may think that downtown lacks enough residents to make retail profitable—a common assumption akin to believing all donuts are healthy because they’re round—guess what? The retail potential is strutting its stuff thanks to its delightful central location and unhindered access to the Hollywood of highways, Interstates 95 and 10. Turns out, over 181,426 souls dwell within a five-mile radius, earning a meager average household income of $53,293, proving that yes, you can still afford that iced caramel macchiato after paying the rent.
Now, don’t get your chains in a twist. Just because traditional mall retailers threw in the towel doesn’t mean all retail types should succumb to the same fate. There’s a treasure trove of untapped retail potential in Downtown Jacksonville, just waiting for the right redevelopment project. Picture this: CVS and Walgreens taking up cozy 6,000 to 15,000 square-foot nooks, all while snuggling up next to the skeletal remains of megastores past. Orlando set the bar, and Jacksonville could follow suit—just with fewer palm trees.
And look at CVS Pharmacy, which embarked on a world-saving venture in the ever-dramatic Downtown Detroit! Talk about a comeback story…and some really questionable architectural choices!
1. Craft Beer: Hops and Hope
In a decade-long booze-fueled adventure, Jacksonville’s craft brewery scene emerged from the shadows, turning neglected spaces into cool hangouts. It’s all about community and sustainability now—where old structures considered derelict previously can suddenly don hipster glasses and sell craft ales with quirky names. Who knew that abandoned ice plants could be so trendy?
Nationwide, craft breweries have resurrected former banks, bus stations, and even churches. In Jacksonville, they’ve turned ice factories and retail stores into temples of hops. The Landing itself? It’s practically begging for a brewing operation. It’s like the building wants to be a craft microbrewery! With its spacious halls and high ceilings, it could liberate the poor souls exhausted from clinking bottles at yet another chain restaurant.
Meanwhile, in Houston, the Saint Arnold Brewing Company built a hip joint that pays homage to itself—how selfless. It includes a beer garden, a design that makes you question if you’re really in a brewery or an art installation, and yes, an ancient cathedral-inspired dining area. Because nothing says “I like hops” like dining amongst religious reverence. So good luck trying to decide between the triple IPA and the fleeting experience of existential bliss.
Remember back when the Southend Brewing Company operated in a waterfront location now occupied by Fionn MacCool’s Irish Pub? That was before the craft beer wave swept the Northeast Florida area like a frat party. Today, the Landing could be a prime candidate for a new brewery. Just imagine locals flocking to this forgotten space to embrace their inevitable fate as community beer connoisseurs.
So, What’s Next?
Ah, memories of economic dereliction—where once the St. James Building was considered a hideous eyesore, now it houses city hall while Miami Beach’s glorious Art Deco district lured tourists like moths to a flame.
What we learn from this sad tale is that confronting your architectural biases can unleash extraordinary possibilities—if you’ll just let your creativity be part of the conversation. Rather than bulldozing the already-existing retail and restaurant spaces at the Jacksonville Landing, maybe we should pause, think, and consider what gems might be hidden within—if only we let them stay a little longer.
Let’s not pretend that tearing down an old building is magically cheaper than improving what’s already there. This isn’t a “DIY or Die” situation—there are utilities, loading docks, and sufficient restroom facilities in the existing structures. To raze everything in sight would be like throwing out the entire cake just because the frosting is a bit stale. The lost opportunity cost is more expensive, my friends!
The dream? An evolved Landing site that married mixed-use space with open green space, because nothing says modern urban life like a smorgasbord of amenities.
In conclusion, the existence of the Request for Proposal (RFP) is a wily tactic meant to interest developers in taking a swing at transforming a recently-voided fire station into a microbrewery, winery, or distillery—perhaps all three! We’re aiming for a blend of retail, entertainment, and outdoor vibes. It’s truly the revised strategy to tempt the local audiences.
Before haphazardly engaging the demolition crew, the Downtown Investment Authority (DIA) ought to consider issuing a formal RFP for developing the Landing and the adjacent East Lot, which is actually a riveting surface parking lot. Just imagine the entrants flocking with fantasized ideas for reuse, selective demolition, or the grand cinema of complete demolition.
Article by Ennis Davis, AICP. For further explorations, reach out to Ennis at edavis@moderncities.com.
