People gathered there like it was church. It was better described as a funeral. I was not there; I saw the photos. On a sunny day, there was the crowd watching a demolition. A local photographer shared his pictures. Another one of my favorite local photographers’ photos circulated like platelets in the veins, trying to clot a grief. The County Executive even had one. People posted their requiems. Is it normal to lose so many places to fire? As I type this, another historic building burns.

What does it mean to be iconic? It’s not necessarily to be adored, but it is to be unmistakable. To be distinctive and unique. A reference point. It is to carry meaning beyond what you actually are.

In this case, it was to be a 1860s building painted purple, with the windows boarded and intentionally so, green spray painted flames on the exterior that sometimes made cameos in people’s tattoos. It was a bit shorter than the other buildings, a bit apart in a section of the city where structures tend to be snuggled together. It was known as the last place you go when bar hopping, with a good steak sandwich, terrible bathrooms, and darts. They called it the Old Pink, but it’s government name was the Allen Street Bar and Grill. A notorious dive. Mostly beloved, but there are mixed memories, because bars are places of vice. Vices can be hard on people.

My husband remembers more of my visits than I do. I think there was a 2 in front of my age and a move to and from Seattle in between visits. I remember walking through the door. I remember how Allen Street looked from the stoop. It was dark. I don’t think I could have described its interior. Its magnetism was lost on me. In any case, I don’t drink anymore and I go to bed early. I’m not the intended audience. It belonged to Buffalo, but it was not mine.

My lived experience of it was thus closer to “building-shaped sculpture” than “place to patronize”. (Kind of how the Central Terminal actually is these days, but that could change.) I have a similar relationship to the regions many gorgeous Catholic churches. All were landmarks of my lunchtime walks. Allentown’s vibe was colored by the Old Pink. The weirdness of the Old Pink served as some proof that there still was something cool to Allentown, that the money which flowed through it hadn’t completely washed away its character. I think that’s why people liked it – they perceived authenticity and culture. Not for nothing, folks are mourning the sense of community.

The other cultural loss in the community is the announcement of the planned closure of 80 churches in Western New York after closing 70 about 12 years ago. These soon-to-be vacant buildings are casualties of decreasing religiosity and people’s disgust. Lots of people are justifiably angry about the enabling and covering up of priests’ abuse. Many see their financial support as paying for the consequences of evil more than supporting their church community so they withhold it. The Catholic closures are a warning to all religious leaders: integrity is the prerequisite to having a future.

I hear more lamenting of the actual buildings than the congregational communities themselves. Those who were there are expected to disperse elsewhere. But that’s not how the city was initially created. Churches aren’t bars – they aren’t landmarks of a phase of life, they are meant to be an anchor of one’s entire life. These churches were the glue of the neighborhood, strongly contributing to what Buffalo is (for better or worse). Now many will be empty, a cultural hole of what once defined an area. Former churches suggest a bleak future for these buildings. See Transfiguration, St. Matthew’s , Our Lady of Lourdes spent decades vacant, Holy Apostles SS Peter and Paul rotted and was demolished… and so forth. The market for old church buildings are oversaturated and the demand is scant.

One could say fires took out both – a literal one from the outside, and another slow, smoldering metaphoric one from the inside. They burned until collapse was inevitable, when there’s nothing else to do but remember and move forward.

What does it mean to be iconic? Being a legend does not mean being eternal.