What unfolded Monday evening along Market Street didn’t feel like a ribbon-cutting.

The Harris-Stowe State University Swarm Drumline buzzed as the rhythm of Double Dutch ropes slapped the pavement. The grand opening of the Brickline Greenway’s newest segment transformed into something closer to a family reunion with block party spirit. One that was rooted in history and reached towards possibility 

And in many ways, that’s exactly what it was.

St. Louis City planning director Don Roe reminded the crowd that the Brickline Greenway was designed with intention. Inspired by projects like New York’s High Line and Atlanta’s BeltLine, St. Louis chose a different path — one that deliberately moves through culturally significant corridors, including North City.

“We weren’t picking an old railroad,” Roe said. “We had to choose our route. And we chose to connect history, culture, people and place.”

That intentionality shows up in every detail — from the dual pathways that invite both movement and reflection, to the mural honoring the St. Louis Stars, to the way the greenway slows traffic and prioritizes people.

Stretching 0.85 miles between Compton Avenue and 22nd Street, the new segment stitches together more than destinations. It connects Energizer Park to campus life, small businesses to foot traffic, and — perhaps most powerfully — present-day St. Louis to the legacy of Mill Creek Valley.

“This is what good public-private partnership looks like when it’s grounded in shared purpose,” said Penny Pennington, managing partner at Edward Jones and Brickline Greenway campaign co-chair. “Students moving across campus. Neighbors gathering. Families walking. Artists creating. Communities meeting one another with greater ease.”

Her words echoed what the crowd was living in real time at the event organized by Great Rivers Greenway, the City of St. Louis and Harris-Stowe.

As the program shifted from celebration to reflection, speakers centered the moment in the story of Mill Creek Valley — a once-thriving Black community erased from the physical landscape but not from the hearts of those who remember.

“First of all, I’m a child of Mill Creek,” said Gwen Moore, curator of Urban Landscape and Community Identity at the Missouri History Museum. “My parents lived in Mill Creek. My grandparents lived there. When I decided to do this exhibit, I said, ‘We are going to tell this story through a Black lens.’ Through the lived experiences of the people who resided in Mill Creek.”

Moore has spent years reclaiming the narrative of Mill Creek through the museum’s Black Metropolis exhibit. She made it clear that Monday’s celebration — like her work — was not just about infrastructure. It was about restoration.

“I wanted to disrupt that negative narrative,” Moore said. “We were not slum dwellers. We built something amazing under the conditions of segregation and Jim Crow.”

She spoke of a community of 20,000 residents, of Black-owned banks and hospitals, of institutions that met every need in a city that denied them access elsewhere.

“The only thing that was not segregated in St. Louis was the public library — and thank God for that,” Moore said. “Otherwise, St. Louis was just as segregated as any city in the Deep South. The people in Mill Creek did what they had to do. They built a vibrant community that met the needs of the people who lived there.”

Behind her, the greenway — lined with native plants, art installations and pathways designed for both movement and pause — became a living extension of that story.

Few embodied that connection more directly than artist Damon Davis.

For nearly a decade, the Emmy Award-winning multidisciplinary artist worked to bring Pillars of the Valley to life — the evolving monument that now stretches further west along the greenway. His work stands as both tribute and testimony, anchoring memory in a city that once tried to erase it.

“It’s a monument, not a memorial,” Davis said. “They are alive. You see them over there. This is a living thing. These people helped make St. Louis what it is today. We need to acknowledge them and thank them.”

He wasn’t speaking metaphorically. Families with direct ties to Mill Creek Valley stood among the crowd — living witnesses to the history now etched into the landscape.

“I’m a native of this region — East St. Louis,” Davis said. “As a Black kid who grew up here, I never knew this neighborhood existed. And I found that crazy. I wanted to make sure that after me, there are no more kids who grow up not knowing.”

But celebration did not overshadow urgency.

“It was made in honor of people who were displaced,” Davis said. “Right now, in St. Louis, there are people displaced because of a natural disaster on the North side.”

He made a bold request.

“I hope that in 20 years I don’t have to make another one for the North side,” he said. “We should press the government and the people in power to make sure those neighborhoods are saved.”

For Jo Ann Taylor Kindle of the Enterprise Mobility Foundation, that people-centered approach is the point.

“This is our home,” Kindle said. “We have a responsibility to help create opportunity, connection and belonging for everyone who calls this region home.”

By the time the ribbon was cut, the symbolism was apparent.

Investment can coexist with remembrance. Development can honor displacement instead of ignoring it. A city known for its divisions can still find ways to move — literally and figuratively — together.

“There is power in remembrance. There is power in listening. There is power in building together,” Pennington said. “This greenway is alive. Students are already moving along it. Neighbors are gathering on it. Artists are shaping it. And new possibilities are already taking root.”

She paused, looking down the greenway.

“I will see you on the path ahead.”

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