More than just a department store

By the time you get to reading this, the holidays will be overwhelming, or they will be over. But the animated Christmas windows at Kaufmann's on Smithfield Street should still be up. And because Kaufmann's will change to Macy's in 2006, this is your last chance to see its enchanting windows. If you're like me, a longtime, dedicated Kaufmann's customer, you might get a snapshot of yourself next to one of the store's signs. The magical windows may be back next year, but would a Kaufmann's window by any other name smell as sweet?

Life's special occasions began at Kaufmann's. How does a giant store like Kaufmann's become so important? As a kid from Bethel Park in the 1950s and early '60s, I felt a certain awe and respect for the big store at the corner of Fifth and Smithfield. My mother worked in the Frick Building, and in those pre-mall days, she knew that any real shopping was done downtown. So, we always started at Kaufmann's. I grew up with a warped sense of local geography, assuming that the city was built not behind the Point or along the rivers but around Kaufmann's and its parking lot.

Back then, Kaufmann's had its basement store, and we'd go there in search of bargains. Sometimes we met my grandmother or her sisters for lunch at the Tic Toc Restaurant. The fruit salad with a scoop of sherbet was the height of elegance for my brother and me in the days when we went to restaurants only for very special occasions.

I also remember years later my dad taking me to buy a suit there on the no-nonsense second floor, introducing me to the salesman who had always helped him. It was a solemn, double-breasted rite of passage. Even today, when I walk through the revolving doors at the corner of Cherry Way and Forbes, I feel like I'm somewhere important, somewhere grand and glorious.

Art-deco delights. In the late 1920s, Edgar Kaufmann commissioned a redesign of the main floor of the department store. Local architect Benno Janssen and his partner William Cocken rose to the challenge and created an art-deco masterpiece. It is remembered for its striking black Carrara glass columns (thanks to PPG), bronze metalwork, terrazzo floors, a million dollars' worth of new elevators and a famous set of murals (now in Colorado Springs, Colo.) depicting "The History of Commerce" by New York artist Boardman Robinson. This snazzy new look - still recognized as one of the outstanding interior designs in Pittsburgh history - was unveiled at a gala on May 1, 1930. So, even during the Depression, shopping at Kaufmann's was not shabby. The classy art-deco style survived for nearly 30 years, until it became too "old-fashioned." Kaufmann's aficionados will tell you to look for a small, silver, flowerlike drinking fountain on the mezzanine level as a reminder of the glory that was once the store's main floor.

Meet Me Under the Kaufmann's Clock. The grand timepiece that's long been a Pittsburgh landmark and perhaps the most popular rendezvous place in the city went up in 1898 and has kept its stately place through several changes in the building itself. The nearly-naked musclemen who adorn the sides of the clock are what architects call "telamones." Surely this structure will be "the Kaufmann's clock" as long as the building stands, for Pittsburghers don't want to dishonor its history by referring to it any other way.

Rick Sebak is the WQED tv13 producer of many programs, including "Things That Aren't There Anymore" and his latest, "A Cemetery Special." In this new column, Rick looks at local culture and history, incorporating his own experiences, some news, local anniversaries and bizarre tidbits of lore.