The Past Is Gone

We can be a tough crowd around here. We are very often and very much the 'flinty New Englanders' from whom Nathaniel Hawthorne's Hester Prynne received a varsity letter of sorts. And sometimes, as popular as this is likely to not make me, we're still handing them out. We neither forgive nor forget so, instead of learning from our past experiences, we launch full-court presses to find the guilty and mete out punishment. And we have convenient memory as well as forgiveness issues.

It was less than six months ago, in late October, we filled City Council chambers and watched along at home as Winstanley Enterprises and their leasing partners, Silvera Asset Group, the new owners of what was re-christened the Norwichtown Commons, outlined the direction and speed they hoped to establish in breathing new life into what had been a moribund property. There were murmurings of approval and the following day the commentators and trolls for both local newspapers' on-line accounts seemed to be somewhat hopeful that, this time, "something good might happen." How soon we, and they, forget I guess.

Saturday morning when Sarah Clark and her staff joined with all the members of the current City Council to cut a pink ribbon marking the reopening of the new Dress Barn, there were eager customers galore but none of the voices so often heard and faces seen at City Council meetings who demand 'something be done' to stem the rising tide of higher property tax rates.

Maybe it was the first weekend of fishing season-perhaps that where everyone was, along the riverbanks in stylish waders with fishing tackle and ten pound line. Or not. I'm more than willing to bet the latter. A topic like 'economic development' is something we discuss at barbecues and at our kids' sporting events. It's better than talking about the weather because we can all be experts and have no expertise of any kind (and none of us will ever know).

Actually, it's even better because we've convinced ourselves we can't do anything about economic development and feel ourselves the victim of cruel and uncaring fate. We're also good at self-pity, if I hadn't mentioned that. You see, as unhappy as we are that 'no one ever does anything' we get even crankier when someone does. We would complain if hanged with a new rope (and yes, I thought about a different word instead of complained but then readers of this on the Bulletin's newspaper website would use that word to complain about my vocabulary choices).

The Dress Barn, one of only three in the state to boost the 'new look,' is a marvel-take my word for it. You see, I was in the Council chambers last fall and I was there at the Commons Saturday morning because I like a one-to-one correlation between beginnings and endings.

Despite what you may have heard about about a search for a black cocktail dress to complement fire engine red slingbacks, I was there to see what a good idea well-executed looks like up-close. Lord knows we haven't had all that many here in Norwich and somehow I knew I wouldn't have to worry about the size of the crowd or not getting a good view. That's the problem with  being a pessimist; I can only be surprised- I can never be disappointed.

I see the Dress Barn as a demonstration of what the Commons' owners envision the process of reinvention to be. There were some cosmetic changes in recent months to include the removal of a lot of the dead brush around the perimeter of the property and new signage at the entrances. But now we are where the road and the sky collide, the actual creation of retail space for all of those who believe our best days are ahead of us. We're not always good at recognizing better things without a sign. I just hope we know how to read one.
-bill kenny