× 1 of 8 Expand Photograph by Chris Naffziger The Leschen Wire Factory. × 2 of 8 Expand Photograph by Chris Naffziger Abandoned four-family flats in the City of St. Louis. × 3 of 8 Expand Photograph by Chris Naffziger Abandoned four-family flats in the City of St. Louis. × 4 of 8 Expand Photograph by Chris Naffziger Naples, Italy. × 5 of 8 Expand Photograph by Chris Naffziger Naples, Italy. × 6 of 8 Expand Photograph by James Palmour The horseshoe. × 7 of 8 Expand Photograph by James Palmour The Horseshoe. × 8 of 8 Expand Photograph by James Palmour The Horseshoe. Prev Next

“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime.” —Mark Twain, Innocents Abroad

I was pleasantly surprised, in this era of manifold erroneously attributed quotes on the Internet, that Mark Twain really did in fact share this incredible bit of wisdom in the concluding paragraphs of his chronicle of traveling throughout Europe and the Middle East. Innocents Abroad is different from much of Twain’s more famous fictional works; instead, it's a straightforward description of his travels to Italian cities, including Rome, Venice, Florence and Naples. Of course, Twain’s famous wit and prose enliven what could be a routine laundry list of famous sites.

Twain was merely following in the footsteps of thousands of earlier gentlemen and ladies, who, as part of the conclusion of their formal education, embarked on a journey known as the Grand Tour, seeing the monuments of the ancient Roman and Greek world, while observing the masterpieces created by Italians such as Michelangelo and Raphael, who had in their own time been inspired by the past. In fact, ever since the Roman Republic when young patricians traveled to Greece to study at Plato’s Accademia or Aristotle’s Lyceum, if not much earlier, it was just considered common sense that a person preparing for public service needed to travel to fully understand different perspectives around the world. “Vegetating in one little corner of the earth” was the symbol of intellectual laziness and provincialism.

The terms “intellectual laziness” and “provincialism” are two terms that pop into my head whenever watching the meetings of the Board of Aldermen. Last Friday’s marathon session did not disappoint. And for whatever reason, probably because they’re getting scared their preferred candidate for mayor had a rough week, that the old, lame attacks against another prominent mayoral candidate’s exceedingly modest travel budget (0.000006% of the city’s annual budget) have reared their ugly heads again. Heaven forbid that a leader of a world-class city such as St. Louis travel to other cities around the world to learn what does and doesn’t work.

I know my travels have given me incredible insight into what St. Louis is doing well, and where the city is failing. In London, I learned that a world-class subway system does not spread crime around a metropolitan area, but rather ties it together, providing easy access to jobs all over the region, regardless of social status. Many St. Louisans are concerned that crime will increase with the expansion of Metro, but I am happy to report I did not see any “urban youth” heading back to the East End on the subway carrying giant flat screen TVs, their HDMI cables still dangling from the back.

I learned from visiting Naples, Italy, that an elegant but disheveled city, bedecked with Renaissance jewels, surrounded by one of the most beautiful natural settings, and filled with some of the friendliest people in the world, can still have pride in itself. Naples is, in some ways, the St. Louis of Europe: previously one of the largest cities in the world, an economic powerhouse that was surpassed industrially by Milan, Turin, and Bologna (and politically by Rome). It also warns us about the danger of corruption, where “this is just the way it’s always been done” has become the mantra for refusing to reform. Young, hardworking politicians and prosecutors are trying their best, but entrenched organized crime and cronyism is a tough opponent to defeat. But it has to be done.

I learned from my year living in Baltimore that American cities cannot just ignore a whole quarter of their city, focusing development into a narrow strip of land. The unrest in West Baltimore shows us that a city is like the human body; all interrelated systems must be healthy and tended to, or none of the body is healthy. Getting a manicure when your feet are suffering from untreated frostbite, dead toes hanging on by a single sinew and infection spreading, is crazy. Yet many civic leaders, not just in Baltimore but in St. Louis as well, follow the same wrongheaded, unhealthy logic.

I could keep going on lessons I have learned around the world, but I think back to the undertone of the Grand Tour. Those gentlemen and ladies came from ascendant powers such as France, Britain, and the German states. There was a subtle message in visiting Italy, on top of seeing all of the great art. The peninsula in the 18th Century was slipping from political relevance, centuries of unrepaired nepotism and malaise turning a formerly great power such as Venice into nothing more than a tourist attraction. The lesson was obvious: this could be your country, too, if you don’t learn from others’ mistakes.

I say this with all due respect, but I seriously wonder how much travel our aldermen get outside of the drive from their wards to City Hall. Perhaps there should be a Grand Tour of St. Louis neighborhoods. I was just walking around Wells-Goodfellow, and Twain’s words, “broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime” seem all the more relevant. An isolated, desolate corner of the city, mocked, ridiculed and feared, my friend Jeff and I quickly realized that Wells-Goodfellow is full of generous, wonderful people, who, despite going to bed every night to the sound of gunfire, can still smile at me and say hello, or express friendly curiosity at my photography of their neighborhood. I am well aware that a man was fatally shot in Wells-Goodfellow less than a day before my visit, but as the city learned this weekend, violence left unchecked in one place eventually spreads everywhere. The infection in the toes eventually spreads to the hands.

In fact, I think every mayoral candidate should walk up Hamilton Avenue with just one friend some Saturday morning, gaze upon the shell of the old Leschen Wire Company, and then cut over on St. Louis Avenue and walk by the now-vanished Horseshoe, where gang violence in the 1990s helped to destroy a beautiful neighborhood. Please leave the security detail at home, however; 5th Ward aldermanic candidate Bob Ray is still recovering from the revelations this weekend, documented with photos posted to social media, that he is too afraid to canvass his own ward without armed guards. Ask yourself, how did this happen? What can we learn from our travels through Wells-Goodfellow? And please, for God’s and our city’s sake, stop “vegetating in one little corner of the earth.”

Segregation throughout the United States often prevented African Americans from traveling safely around the country. Published from 1936 to 1966, the Negro Motorist Green Book included carefully compiled lists of safe businesses where African Americans were welcomed. On February 16, Chris Naffziger discusses what the legacy of segregation and the Green Book can teach modern-day St. Louis. Find all the details here.

Chris Naffziger writes about architecture at St. Louis Patina. Contact him via email at naffziger@gmail.com.