Bustling groups of tourists are overtaking Harvard Square for another busy summer, their designer-sneakered feet walking the perimeter of a historic space. Caged behind chain fences and tarps lies the remains of “the Pit,” the old courtyard-turned-shelter for a bygone punk generation and unhoused youths that now stands as an example of Harvard Square’s aggressively shifting landscape.
Another year without the Pit is another year removed from the “old” Harvard Square, a version of the neighborhood that has been teetering on the brink of extinction for years. Instead of another wave of gentrification, let’s keep the Pit and lose the rest.
What was great about the Pit? The Pit thrived without organization, a place for impromptu gatherings and outdoor book sales. It was a space for spontaneous concerts, skateboarding and lounging. It was the in-your-face antithesis to the economic goals of Harvard Square.
Constructed in 1982, the Pit was instantly popular for “wayward” youth in New England. Public space in Harvard Square is and has been limited, claimed by businesses and the university. The only large area to congregate is Cambridge Common. Aside from the concrete chess tables in front of Pavement Coffeehouse and minimal seating in the Common, there are few options where the public can find a seat without paying for it. The Pit has become virtually entombed as the neighborhood gentrifies around it, a sunken plaza that some view as nothing more than an obstacle where buses pull tight turns and pedestrians hug narrow curbs to make way for wheelchairs and strollers.
In the 1920s, Harvard Square got a hint of its future – a future that would leave independent businesses behind and prioritize profit over community. One of the first recorded instances of franchise business in Harvard Square occurred when Wythe & Co., an independently run grocer at 6 John F. Kennedy St., closed its doors after 50 years due to an unaffordable increase in rent. A chain grocery store took over the space, which today hosts a double-decker CVS across from a defunct Starbucks.
The fate of the Pit, to many a symbol of protest against the forces of gentrification, was sealed in 2022 when the site was slated for demolition and subsequent beautification following a long-term plan to rejuvenate the core of Harvard Square. The plan, which reduced the storied area from counterculture hangout to an outdoor shopping plaza, drew mixed reviews.
In the summer of 2022, advocates for preserving the Pit circulated a petition to designate it as a landmark, calling the proposed design a “characterless commercially focused plaza that you might find in any suburban American mall.” The effort was in vain; the Cambridge Historical Commission decided against landmark status in August of that summer.
The loss of the Pit signifies a deeper issue for the neighborhood at large: The tourist economy, in conjunction with money-hungry property owners that cater to corporate chains, has decimated the independent and local character of Harvard Square. For example, out of 13 coffee shops in the immediate area, only three are independently run.
A few businesses have stood their ground. Notably businesses such as the Harvard Book Store, which has been independently owned and operated since 1932. The bookstore hosts author readings, screenings with The Brattle Theatre, and other events all month long, giving people closer access to the stories they love. Club Passim is a folk music club that has been a stalwart of the local music community for half a century. The Bartley family has been serving eccentrically named burgers, including the “Greedy Landlords,” at Mr. Bartley’s Burger Cottage since the 1960s. When the restaurant changed ownership recently, the owner was another local restaurateur.
But these examples have become the exception. Independent businesses are steadily becoming outnumbered, and with the Pit trapped in limbo, there is a diminishing number of spaces where locals can feel like locals in the heart of Harvard Square. The local charm is being erased, reduced to urban legend.
Instead of holing up in smoky coffeehouses and jazz bars, students are studying at the Capital One Cafe. The cultural identity of Harvard Square is slipping away in a sea of Canada Goose coats. A neighborhood that once hosted the talents of Tracy Chapman and Joni Mitchell at Club 47 (now Club Passim) is being reduced to a business monoculture. While Faro Cafe lends its space to live music events and pop-up artist exhibits, these are fleeting and impermanent opportunities that speak to a lack of commitment to growing local arts, business and culture.
This summer is forecast to be even hotter than last year. Tourists from all over the world are already making their trips to Cambridge for a bevy of reasons, from World Cup sightseeing to preemptive college tours. When they pass through Harvard Square, decked out in Harvard merch and with arms full of souvenirs, they won’t know what they’re missing behind the chain fences and barricades. But locals know and remember. Construction on the Pit was projected to wrap up in time for the summer, but has since been delayed until fall. It’s going to be another long summer without the Pit.
UPDATE: The “Pit rat” has been unofficially identified as Fernando Strohmeyer and the photo as taken in 1996. Corrected.
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