The City That Preserved Itself

Boston almost didn't preserve its Revolutionary sites. In the nineteenth century, economics trumped heritage—old buildings came down, streets were widened, the waterfront was transformed. The site of the Tea Party was landfilled decades ago.

What saved what remains was mostly accident. The Old North Church survived because it was still a church. Old South Meeting House survived because of a last-minute fundraising campaign. Faneuil Hall survived because it was still useful.

The Freedom Trail itself was a twentieth-century invention—a way to connect scattered sites into a walkable narrative. It's brilliant marketing, honestly. But it also creates a false coherence. The Revolution didn't happen on a neat path with painted lines.

What I try to help people understand is that this city was layered. Revolutionary Boston was also colonial Boston, merchant Boston, enslaved-people-living-and-working-here Boston. The sites we preserved are the sites we chose to value. Other sites, other stories, were paved over.

We work with what we have. But we should know what we lost.