In the early 1970s, she returned from a stint with the Peace Corps in Panama, bringing with her three children she promised to educate here. She owned a restaurant in Conesus, Livingston County, but when she learned that the tavern on Platt Street was for sale, she jumped at the chance. Hers was the first restoration in the area, and at a time when the city did not permit residential use there, she had to serve as her own security officer to get permission to live in renovated space on the tavern's fourth floor, says her brother, George Streb of Greece. She also bought properties on Mill Street and Brown's Race, which she had hoped to renovate. But just after she had finalized plans for the Brown's Race building, it was destroyed in a fire. Still, Ms. Streb persevered, insisting that one day old stone mills would be converted to apartments with sun decks, that Kodak workers would walk through the area on their lunch hours, eating at cafs and browsing through boutiques and book stores.
Obituary for Panama RPCV Ruth Streb
Brown's Race pioneer Ruth Streb dared to dream big
Mark Hare
January 25, 2009
As the city's Brown's Race neighborhood fully matures as a mixed residential, commercial and office district — thriving in both restored historic buildings and historically compatible new ones — Ruth Streb should get a big share of the credit.
Despite some high-profile commercial flops, the district has come a long way since Ms. Streb sold her Lost and Found Tavern at 104 Platt St. in 1981. So far, in fact, that it may be hard to believe that she had to fight the city for permission to open a sidewalk café and live on the fourth floor of her building.
Ruth Streb, who in recent years lived in Greece, died on New Year's Day. She was 80 and had been ill, says her sister, Sister Pius Streb, a member of the Sisters of Saint Joseph.
In the early 1970s, she returned from a stint with the Peace Corps in Panama, bringing with her three children she promised to educate here. She owned a restaurant in Conesus, Livingston County, but when she learned that the tavern on Platt Street was for sale, she jumped at the chance. Hers was the first restoration in the area, and at a time when the city did not permit residential use there, she had to serve as her own security officer to get permission to live in renovated space on the tavern's fourth floor, says her brother, George Streb of Greece.
She also bought properties on Mill Street and Brown's Race, which she had hoped to renovate. But just after she had finalized plans for the Brown's Race building, it was destroyed in a fire. Still, Ms. Streb persevered, insisting that one day old stone mills would be converted to apartments with sun decks, that Kodak workers would walk through the area on their lunch hours, eating at cafs and browsing through boutiques and book stores.
She had great parties. I know because I was there. Every November, she held a Sam Patch gala to commemorate the daredevil's fatal leap off the High Falls in 1829. She also had great St. Patrick's Day parties.
She was relentless, not only cooking and serving and paying the bills, but even jack-hammering through 18-inch-thick stone walls to add windows and doors. But the long days and short nights, along with the constant bureaucratic hurdles ahead of her, got to be too much for her. In a long letter to the editor that appeared on Oct. 13, 1979, in the Democrat and Chronicle, Ms. Streb said that she had "almost reached the breaking point." She was tired and discouraged, unable to borrow the money to complete her projects, and discouraged at what she saw as foot-dragging at City Hall.
She was 53 when she sold the business in 1981. "She worked so hard for so long," says George Streb. "She just decided it take it easy." Ms. Streb bought a farm in Bloomfield, but within a few years, she bought a houseboat (without a motor, says Sister Pius) and docked it on Long Island during the winter; in the summer, she had it towed to Fire Island, where she'd live on the boat. Eventually she returned to Greece, where she lived until her death.
Ruth Streb was an urban pioneer who spent her money, her energy and her hope pursuing her vision of a more livable downtown. She didn't live long enough to see that dreamfully realized, but when it is finally realized — and it will be — let's not forget that this transformation did not happen accidentally, that it took people like Ruth Streb who dared to imagine what might be.
