For the first time in 115 years, there are no students this
fall on the Northeast Portland campus of Concordia University.
The lawns are brown.
Doors locked. Windows closed and
dark. Parking lots empty. Athletic field vacant.
A pedestrian walking though these 24 acres absent of
humanity can’t help thinking: “Something
is wrong here.” Indeed. Was it some kind of high-tech bomb that saved the buildings but wiped out the people? Nope. The local board of trustees pulled the plug
quickly without notice earlier this year, ending CU’s history at the end of the spring 2020
semester.
Those looking for answers got nowhere. Nobody in the official realm was willing to talk; calls were not
returned. There may be layers of reasons for the closure, and we’ll touch on them in a bit.
Concordia never ranked with Portland’s fanciest colleges
such as Reed or Lewis and Clark. It
began in 1905 as a Lutheran Church-related private high school. It expanded to a junior college in 1950 and
to an accredited four-year university in 1977, dropping the high school along
the way.
Its strongest programs were educating teachers and nurses. It competed athletically with small, mostly
church-related Pacific Northwest colleges in several sports and toward the end
of its life ranked as a national power among small-college women’s soccer
programs.
Unlike many colleges, Concordia worked closely with the
surrounding neighborhood. Student
teachers gained experience at Faubion School, just across the street. Neighborhood residents were welcome to use
the library and buy meals at the cafeteria.
Neighborhood teams used the sports fields.
Your correspondent taught journalism on a part-time basis at
Concordia from 2007 to 12. During that
time, the administration decided to make a major push into on-line instruction
for teachers. Graduates of the on-line
program would set foot on campus only once – graduation day.
Many of the 1200 or so undergraduates who lived on campus at
the time were leery of the internet-education plans. They felt that s significant part of the
Concordia was participating in campus life. They feared that a blizzard of on-line degrees might denigrate their on-campus degrees. Closure of the entire institution was never even perceived as a possibility.
The first decade of the century brought impressive changes to the
campus, including a grand three-story library, new housing and a
mini-stadium with an all-weather surface for soccer and baseball. The campus definitely was "moving up" in spirit and physical quality.
George H. White Library
Admissions jumped dramatically with the on-line education
program. Nevertheless, Concordia
apparently fell far behind in payments to a California firm, Hotchalk Inc.,
which curried and processed applications and “serviced” the on-line students.
Meanwhile, the university evidently got cross-ways with its
parent, the conservative Missouri Lutheran Synod that objected to creation of a
resource center for gay, lesbian and transgender students. (Methinks these devout Christians forgot to have a discussion
with Jesus on that one.)
To whatever extent all these issues merged, there appeared
to be no answer locally. So, boom, plug
pulled. University gone. Litigation with
Hotchalk is already pending.
What becomes of the 24-acre campus? It is for sale by the Lutheran Church
Extension Fund, a financial services arm of the Missouri Synod in St.
Louis. It could be a turn-key purchase
for a small college, but in this era, small colleges are facing tough times. The internet as a high-education savior is a bumpier road than expected.
Athletic field
Could the campus be parted out? Certainly the dorm rooms and apartments could
be sold for housing and could be used immediately. The gymnasium and
athletic field could be a plum for the Portland Parks Bureau. The new library and the much older
administration building and faculty offices could easily resurface as
offices.
The short answer is that nothing will happen quickly. Changed uses could require slow and costly
city land-use zone changes from the current “campus institution” zone. What happens to the debt on recent campus
additions is anybody’s guess.
Vacancies and delays are never good for any building, old or new. The longer that time passes, the
dimmer the future looks for what’s left of Concordia University.
Maybe return it back to the Chinook who it was stolen from in the first place? Also to the Black people who are being gentrified out of there?
ReplyDeleteGreat ideas
Deletelmfao stolen? thats a laugh riot.
DeleteIdeally, as Fred suggests, a number of adaptive reuses options would be the highest and best use.
ReplyDeleteCould it be turned into various restaurants. Any of if fit a McMenamins style place? Antique Mall. Hotel?
ReplyDeleteI am an alumnus of CU-Portland. I am still shocked with the rapidity that they closed the school down. Someday my grandkids will ask where I went to college. I am still not sure what I will say...
ReplyDeleteThanks for the thoughtful article on this issue, Fred. Concordia University happens to be the turnaround point of one of my walking loops, and over the last six or so years I’ve stopped to watch games at the Hilken Community Stadium, and paid visits to the White Library to scan the collection of newspapers and magazines. Over time I noticed that there were less and less students in the library, and simply figured that they were getting their study resources online. I didn’t realize that this was instead due to a change in pedagogical philosophy, where online courses were eliminating the need to even be on campus. And now, with this venerable NE Portland institution fully closed, the loss is even greater. Walking around an empty campus, it feels like the fabric of this neighborhood has been torn from the center outward.
ReplyDeleteYears ago I was researching university alumni centers, and one factoid stayed with me. After conducting scores of interviews with college graduates, it was determined that three elements have the most important influences on graduates’ memories: the people they met, the buildings they inhabited, and the open space that defined the campus. Seems to me that with the movement towards online education, both as a business model and as a pandemic response, today’s students will miss out on all three. I’m hoping that our region’s higher education institutions are able to tread wisely during this time of challenge, and retain what they do and where they do it. An active campus grows roots that run deep in the experiences and memories of alumni and neighbors alike.