Life, death of a Cedar Rapids treasure

By Jon Rinderknecht

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Let me invite you to journey back in time to the mid-1980s.

I was only a dream in the fertile imagination of the design team for the new Cedar Rapids Public Library.

The team's concept was to create a significant, graceful focal point that would give the proposed library a single identifying feature, one that would make the city of Cedar Rapids proud. The team grappled with ideas until finally settling on a sculptural piece that was not only functional but aesthetically pleasing and architecturally significant: a concrete spiral staircase that would be cast into place.

I'm told the design team worked three months on my drawings. I later overheard the builders say that neither the designer nor the contractor had an idea how to fabricate the formwork to build me.

Thankfully, a father-son team who enjoyed a challenge was able to come up with a plan that was nothing short of genius. In fact, I would become the focal point of an article that appeared in Concrete Construction magazine (February 1985).

It took the builders five months to bring me to life. Anyone and everyone who was involved in building me pored over every last detail until it was time to pour the concrete.

My “birthday” was exciting for the builders and the onlookers. A crane placed the concrete through a skylight to the waiting formwork waiting below. The formwork was amazing; it deflected nary a fraction of an inch under the pressure of the concrete. Subsequent removal of the formwork revealed a concrete work of art.

I was the centerpiece of the new library and enjoyed having the public traverse up and down me. There was no end to the accolades and honors directed my way.

It seemed I would live a long life and age gracefully, just as any other work of art. Little did I know that raging floodwaters in June 2008 would change all of that. I shivered as the murky, cold floodwaters rose and partially covered me. But when the waters finally subsided, I was secure in the knowledge that all it would take was a good power washing to restore me to my full glory. After all, I was made of concrete.

Sadly, the rest of the library didn't fare as well, and soon there was talk about moving the library. Again, I didn't worry, as I was confident another business would find the site appealing.

When the new owner hired an architect to reconfigure the old library to fit its needs, I still didn't worry because I was only 25 years old, I was still in the prime of my life. Certainly someone would be creative enough to incorporate me into the new design.

Imagine my horror when the new construction crew started jack hammering away at my beautiful sweeping curves. It took months to design me and put me in place, but only days to reduce me to a pile of rubble. Did anyone even consider incorporating me into the new plan? Did anyone contact my original design team for input or even a courtesy call?

My life came to a premature end. There is nothing more I can offer the city of Cedar Rapids at this point except a different landscape at Mount Trashmore.

I pray that as the city of Cedar Rapids continues to rebuild from the flood, leaders pay more attention to the architectural treasures of this city. I was once one of them.

Jon Rinderknecht, retired member of Local Carpenter 308 of Cedar Rapids, resides in Atkins. He was the carpenter foreman and his father, Arthur Rinderknecht, was superintendent on the Cedar Rapids Public Library that held its grand opening on Feb. 17, 1985. Their work included creating the forms for the spiral stairway. Comments: (319) 446-7372.