The Case of the Brick Windows

This appeared on Sunday, March 4, 2007

Everyone loves a good mystery, even more when the mystery involves something in your own backyard.

You know, like whatever happened to the 12 missing votes from the 156th Legislative District (ballots, you may remember, it has yet to be disproven had my name on them)?

Or exactly when did Andy Dinniman‘s Groucho mustache disappear? And where did it go?

Better yet, how did William H. Lamb, former law-and-order district attorney of Chester County, turn into the Slots King of Fishtown?

But sometimes there are mysteries right under our noses that we don‘t notice until someone points them out.

Like The Case of the Brick Windows, suggested to us by Constant Reader Bob B.

Mr. B, a keen observer of goings-on in West Chester and its accompanying environs, noticed that there was something off-kilter about the new Justice Center (Code Name: We-Don‘t-Know-What-To-Call-It-Yet) going up on West Market Street. To wit: there are five bricked-in windows on the front façade of the building, right there near the corner of North Darlington Street.

The bricked windows go from the ground floor up. At a glance, they remind you of that scene in ”The Matrix“ when Mouse tries to escape from the on-rushing Agent Smith SWAT Team after coming back from Neo‘s visit with The Oracle, and draws aside a window curtain in Morpheus‘ apartment building, only to find that the window has been replaced by a brick wall and that he has nowhere to go and he‘s going to get shot up to smithereens when the SWAT storm troopers break down the door and, thus, become the first of the crew of the Nebuchadnezzar to perish.

Or it doesn‘t. Whatever.

Mr. B. was puzzled by the brick windows because they are not depicted on the original architectural drawings of the project. (Trust me: he checked.)

So he left it up to me to solve the puzzle and get back to him. ”If anyone can get to the bottom of the story, er, actually five stories, top to bottom, it‘s you,“ he fawned, leaving me slightly faint. So, with the help of Chester County Public Information Officer Extrordinaire Evelyn Walker, I did.

Here‘s the skinny, as delivered by the county‘s architect through Ms. W:

"It became necessary to locate a telecommunications and electrical room in the southeast corner of the building in order to properly serve the large floor plates. The architects desired to maintain the character and rhythm of the fenestration along Market Street; therefore, the cast stone surrounds and brick infill were proposed to satisfy the aesthetic goal. Sincerely, Paul Andrew Sgroi, AIA."

Frankly, I‘d have just said: "Oops!"

Mr. B. accepted the explanation with some rancor, and not just because of the technocratese that the answer came in. He declared that the brick windows were an eyesore that the citizens of Chester County would be stuck with when coming to West Chester to file their election recount petitions, or whatever else they‘ll do at the Justice Center, "rhythm of fenestration aesthetics" notwithstanding.

He suggested that the county get a huge refund from the people to blame for the snafu. I can‘t disagree.

Because, as Bill Lamb might say: ”Cha-ching!“