The very expensive, very empty federal courthouse site at 6th and Reily streets in Harrisburg.
How much would you pay for a piece of empty land in Harrisburg?
Not much, I’m sure.
Most plots here don’t cost much, and a few Uptown and on Allison Hill have even sold recently at tax sale for a few hundred bucks. In many areas of Harrisburg, you can get one with an actual house on it for $20,000 or $30,000.
A quadruple lot, with an old building on it, just sold in the heart of Midtown’s commercial district for $50,000.
Then there’s the radical exception.
There’s a large chunk of land—you may be familiar with it—with a ever-escalating price that now stands at around $55 million. It’s where someday, maybe, a new federal courthouse for Harrisburg will stand.
To clarify–only a portion of the first round of $26 million in federal funds was used to acquire and clear the land at N. 6th and Reily streets. Some was used for other purposes, such as for studies and design. The U.S. General Services Administration now is asking congressional approval for another $29.5 million.
This amount, though, still won’t yield an actual building, but just more study. So, if Congress approves the use, $55 million will be spent without raising a single board, without driving in a single nail, for a building that, best case, is five to 10 years away from judge and jury.
To put this into some perspective, Pennsylvania just announced a new state Archives building of a similar size, occupying about the same amount of land, directly across the street from the courthouse site. The total cost: $24 million, meaning an entire government building will be built for less than half the price that the feds plan to spend on studies, preparation and land.
I admit this is an imprecise comparison. The courthouse has certain needs, such as for security, which raise the cost of the project, even in the design phase. The Archives, though, has its own exacting criteria that make it more expensive to plan and construct than your average office building.
Recently, I visited the courthouse site, a grassy expanse with an imposing sign, now several years old, announcing the project. Squirrels scampered about, and, looking around the site, I could see traffic and a few blighted buildings and more emptiness beyond.
At one time, rowhouses, corner stores and bars lined these blocks, serving a working-class community of hard-living railroad men and their families. After the buildings fell apart and were razed, much of the land was used for parking, as well as for a fast food restaurant that later became a drop-off point for donations to the Bethesda Mission across the street.
What a strange fate, I thought. Fifty-five million dollars could buy some of the grandest palaces in the world, from the Hollywood Hills to Paris. But, apparently, it’s also the price of a grassy field, bees picking at the dandelions, birds pecking the ground, of a hard-luck corner on a busy street across from a gas station and a homeless shelter in Harrisburg, Pa.
