My father was a good man, and he had a saying: If it’s worth having, it’s worth taking care of.

That includes cities. It includes democracy. It includes civic life. And it includes City Hall.

In the summer of 1976, I moved here, a young man looking to build a life and a career. I stayed, and am glad I did, but over those 50 years, some disturbing trends have repeated themselves. One of them is that we do not take care of what we have.

This is the great paradox of Dallas. We want to be taken seriously as a great city, yet we do not respect our own history and culture enough to try to preserve it. We snap at the first shiny object to come our way. The great striving and yearning that defines us also limits us. We tear down our own history, our very selves, to try to prove ourselves and make our city great.

Opinion

Get smart opinions on the topics North Texans care about.

By signing up, you agree to our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.

Damn, I love this town, except when I don’t.

We have now entered into a process to determine whether Dallas City Hall can be saved. The path forward can either bring us closer together, or leave scars that will not heal easily or quickly. City Hall is shaped like a wedge, and it will drive a wedge into the heart of our civic life if Dallas tears it down without due process.

First, extensive town hall meetings in every corner of the city must be held to discuss, in detail, the findings of those tasked with determining the feasibility of saving the building itself. Every last nickel of estimated costs must be explained in detail. Do not think for a minute that a ballpark estimate will suffice.

The city of Dallas needs to formally apologize to the I. M. Pei Foundation for letting this building fall into disrepair. I am completely serious. In fact, we need to apologize to our ancestors, such as the late J. Erik Jonsson, the mayor who championed the building as a modern civic gathering place in order to cast Dallas in a new light, in part to overcome the stigma of the Kennedy assassination.

Let us remember that the Kalita Humphreys Theater, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, is another treasure, and we have let it slide into horrible condition as well. And let’s not forget Fair Park, the largest collection of Art Deco buildings on the planet. What have we done with that? More neglect and disrepair.

Two of the best architects ever to set foot on the planet left pieces of their legacy in Dallas, and we have let those pieces crumble. That does not say much good about us as a city, does it?

If it’s worth having, it’s worth taking care of.

I am angry about this because I love this town and because I know what we can do when we set our minds to it.

Many others are also deeply aggrieved about this, and I don’t mean just the architectural community. Many residents I’ve spoken with see this as a sellout to interests not from here.

Even worse than the anger this has engendered is the prospect of causing people to lose even more faith in our city government. The rumor mill has already concluded that the fix is in, and that our city government has sold out to gambling interests from Las Vegas. That perception will fester and do long-term harm to the body politic.

If you move City Hall into a vacant office tower downtown, you will disenfranchise voters and citizens from every part of the city because you will make it harder for citizens to get to City Hall for zoning hearings, boards and commissions, and the daily business of the people. This is still a democracy, and the citizens and taxpayers still foot the bill. Anything, and I mean even the slightest thing, that pushes the average citizen away from the seat of power runs counter to the very meaning of representative government.

We’re the Big D. But maybe our biggest dreams should not be found in sports arenas or shiny new things, but in being good stewards of our buildings, our neighborhoods, our forest and our river.

I would love to see the Big D grow up, take responsibility and develop a well-defined culture, earned through steadfast civic endeavor, not purchased and packaged as the newest bright and shiny object that catches our attention.

Yes, we are a young city, but at the rate we tear things down, we will never have any history, any true, well-earned charm, any well-defined, well-earned identity. Being young and glamorous is easy, but being lasting and strong and confident in who you are takes strength of character and self-respect. Maybe we need to fix City Hall as much to learn a civic lesson as to save a prominent building designed by a great architect.

Maybe we should stop building anything new until we have brought our old into decent shape. Or devote funding every single year to increased maintenance of key assets. And maybe we need to tell our sports owners that we won’t build them anything new until we have the rest of the town repaired.

We will not become a better city by tearing City Hall down. We will have learned nothing. Some individuals will get richer, but we as a city will remain adolescents who do not take responsibility for our carelessness.

To those who want to tear down City Hall, I say put it to the vote. If you’re so sure you’re right, the voters should agree with you. Let the people speak.

Let us together not only determine the future of this one iconic place but also dedicate ourselves to taking better care of our heritage and the fabric of our civic culture.

After all, if it’s worth having, it’s worth taking care of.

David Marquis is an author and conservationist. His latest book, The River Always Wins, was published by Dallas-based Deep Vellum.

Part of our Opinion series on Saving Downtown, this essay argues that saving City Hall is about stewardship and maturing as a city.

We welcome your thoughts in a letter to the editor. See the guidelines and submit your letter here.

If you have problems with the form, you can submit via email at letters@dallasnews.com