
The history of Interstate 94 between Minneapolis and St. Paul is a story of scars. When the freeway was carved through the heart of the Twin Cities in the 1960s, it didn’t just move earth; it tore the fabric of the Rondo neighborhood, displacing thousands of Black residents and creating a concrete canyon that has separated communities for generations.
As the Minnesota Department of Transportation (MnDOT) is about to finalize its recommendations on its “Rethinking I-94” project, there is a powerful, well-intentioned movement calling for the ultimate remedy: removing the freeway entirely and replacing it with an at-grade “Twin Cities Boulevard.”
It is an alluring, even visionary according to some, proposal. But for a metropolitan area that relies on regional connectivity to survive, it is a gamble the Twin Cities cannot afford to take. While we must repair the historical damage done to these neighborhoods, we cannot do so by severing the primary artery that keeps our regional economy pulsing.
The argument for removal rests on the idea that if you destroy the road, the cars will simply disappear, replaced by a utopia of light rail, buses, and bicycles. But the reality of Midwestern geography and economics is far more stubborn. I-94 currently carries upwards of 150,000 vehicles a day. These aren’t just elective joyrides; they are plumbers traveling to jobs, freight trucks delivering medical supplies, and parents trying to make it from a job in St. Paul to a daycare in Minneapolis before the late-fee clock starts ticking.
Converting this 7.5-mile stretch into a boulevard with stoplights would not magically transition 150,000 drivers into transit users. With transit use continuing its precipitous decline – 3% in 2025 alone – it’s unlikely to to be a solution to this issue. Instead, it would create a massive “bottleneck by design.” The result? Traffic “evaporation” is a myth in a region where transit infrastructure—despite billions in investment—still cannot offer the point-to-point flexibility required by a modern workforce.
What about social justice? Well, the environmental and social justice arguments for removal contain a hidden irony. A big one. If I-94 is decommissioned, that massive volume of traffic won’t vanish; it will bleed into the surrounding neighborhood streets. We would likely see a surge of “shortcut” traffic on Selby, University, and Marshall Avenues—streets lined with homes, schools, and small businesses. We risk “healing” the Rondo corridor only to poison the air and endanger the pedestrians of the surrounding neighborhoods with redirected gridlock.
We must also consider our standing as a global trade hub. I-94 is a critical segment of a national freight network. Forcing semi-trucks onto a surface boulevard or diverting them to an already-overburdened I-694/I-494 loop would increase shipping costs and carbon emissions, making the Twin Cities a less competitive place to do business.
There is, however, a middle path—one that MnDOT and community leaders should embrace with vigor. We do not have to choose between a 1960s-style concrete trench and a complete removal.
The most viable long-term future for I-94 lies in “caps” or “lids.” By building massive land bridges over the freeway—particularly in the Rondo area—we can create acres of new parkland, housing, and commercial space. We can reconnect the local street grid, provide a canopy of green over the highway, and effectively “bury” the noise and pollution while maintaining the vital transportation link below. The proposed Rondo Land Bridge is the kind of innovative infrastructure that rectifies historical wrongs without creating new economic ones.
Rethinking I-94 should be about more than just moving cars; it should be about dignity, equity, and the environment. But let’s be honest about our needs. To decapitate the Twin Cities’ transportation network in the name of a “boulevard” is a radical experiment that would likely leave us more congested, less competitive, and just as divided.
Let’s fix I-94. Let’s cover it, green it, and bridge it. But let’s not pretend we can live without it.

Park and Portland Avenues and 26th and 28th Streets in Minneapolis became less efficient thoroughfares due to the bike lane fiasco. Last thing anyone needs is to shut down a major existing freeway