The Weekly Fare . . . October 7, 2004

What's Not Wrong With Roanoke

As floods go around here, last Tuesday's "remnant of hurricane Jeanne" was a pretty good one. So good in fact, that we decided to walk the family down from our relatively dry ground on Stanley Avenue to see the floodwaters that had risen around everything in the Reserve Avenue area. Our four children were bubbling with excitement as we set off on our expedition - after all, it's not everyday Dad offers a walk on the Jefferson Street bridge which was closed to traffic due to the rising water.

When we arrived, a large crowd of onlookers had already assembled upon the high arching bridge to survey the impressive sight below. The normally placid and easygoing Roanoke River had become a roiling cauldron of chocolate brown water, now over ten times its normal width. Five-year-old Rob looked down over the rail in amazement as trashcans, timbers, trees and tires careened by in the relentless and unforgiving current. He stared for several minutes, and then finally offered his sage opinion.

"Wouldn't want to be down there, Dad . . ."

A master of understatement, that Rob.

The unobstructed view from the top of the bridge revealed that the playing field at Victory Stadium was at least three feet under the water's surface, but the stands remained just out of reach of the threatening tide. Seeing such a large structure surrounded by water accentuated the power of the river, as did the fast current sweeping down the side of the hospital's long concrete bulkheads that were added after the great flood of 1985. Without them the first floor and basement would have been submerged once again.

The few Police officers who guarded the nearby intersections seemed relaxed and at ease as pedestrians continued to gather in greater numbers upon the bridge. The large crowd had a party atmosphere about it; as such groups usually do when they form as a result of some unforeseen act of nature that suspends the rules of normalcy. You could feel the child-like excitement in the air as strangers shared the experience of being alive outside the confines of their everyday expectations. People from all walks of life greeted and spoke freely with one another - sharing observations and thoughts as though they had known one another for years. It was a beautiful and marvelous thing.

But then something happened, and everything changed. A report was apparently received that someone was trapped in a tree next to Victory Stadium. Based on the response by Roanoke rescue personnel, it must have been the Pope, as no less than four ambulances, three fire trucks and two "swift water rescue teams" showed up, as well as a teeming mass of new police officers. They all approached the bridge with lights flashing and sirens screaming, proceeding up and over it at an incredibly reckless speed. One ambulance came inches away from clipping a family that was scurrying to get out of the way. I heard one man remark that the only real danger around was the rescue personnel themselves.

Things got progressively worse. As the rumor of someone being trapped in a tree swept through the crowd, many people began to crane their heads and ask, "Where?" The answer was clear enough - "nowhere." From different vantage points on the bridge it was obvious that no one was trapped in any of the trees on the three sides of the stadium in view and if someone were trapped on the far side of the stadium then the rescue personnel were approaching from the wrong direction entirely.

But instead of asking anyone what they had seen in the last hour, the new police on hand began to arrogantly herd the people to one side of the bridge and then to one section of the bridge and then finally off the bridge. Meanwhile they completely failed to notice several teenagers trapped on the west side bleachers, who everyone BUT the officers and rescue personnel seemed to know were there. It was a classic example of an "I'm in charge" mentality that not only resulted in a poor effort to efficiently accomplish their mission, but also stifled an otherwise wonderful opportunity to add to a unique moment.

The alternative would have been leadership that calmly ascertained the situation - including taking a moment to speak with some of the bystanders on the scene - which would have resulted in an immediate rescue of the teenagers who were indeed in some peril. (They did eventually find them.) My guess is that the citizens upon the bridge would have cheered wildly as the swift water team accomplished the rescue. As it was, we all arrived breathing in the magic of the moment, only to depart exhaling in disappointment and disgust.

In retrospect I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. City Government in Roanoke, as displayed on all levels, has repeatedly shown itself to be arrogant and rude - time and time again ignoring the voice of its constituents as it makes its own dangerous assumptions on "what needs to be done next." From the Stadium issue, to the methadone Clinic in Northwest, to the proposed new neighborhood development in South Roanoke, to the "traffic calming measures" in Southeast, Roanoke's City Government continues to bumble its way along - showing almost no willingness to involve citizens in key planning processes.

The worst part is that our "benevolent dictators" continue to base their decisions on unimaginative ideas that neglect any creative power relative to what might be fresh and real and possible for this community. This debilitating trait seems to stem from one single reality - that a significant number of our government leaders seem to have no idea who we really are . . . Or they are simply unwilling to honor or embrace the natural and genuine character of this valley.

In lieu of playing to our strengths, they continue to try to recreate us in a fabricated vision of their own, or one recommended by some distant consultant, who says, "this is what we did in Charlotte, or Greenville or Phoenix or Tallahassee . . ."

Wake up people!

We are not a major banking center and we never will be. (But that doesn't mean we can't offer the kind of incentives that will attract quality businesses like UKROPS - Thank You Brian Wishneff.)

BMW did not build a mega-manufacturing plant here. (But massive manufacturing plants aren't necessarily the best way to spark "smart growth.")

Tourism and travel will never be our lifeblood. (But restoring the 611 and offering weekend rail excursions to Explore Park and / or Blacksburg might be a creative way of cranking up tourism dollars as we honor our past.)

We do not have a major University downtown. (Though we can certainly maximize the possibilities that exist with Virginia Tech.)

So what's left?

I'll tell you what's left - the best reality of all.

A medium sized town with a quality of life quotient that is off the charts for most of it's citizens - a valley with an incredibly family-friendly environment that offers a balanced blend of cultural and educational opportunities as well as an unhurried pace that is refreshingly out of step with the majority of cities so many of our leaders seem to worship . . . A valley so rich in scenery, natural beauty and character that people that come to visit here constantly and without fail exclaim, "Do you have any idea what you have??"

"No," I usually reply. "We really don't."

I once hired an individual, who six months later was offered almost two times what our company had paid him to come to Roanoke. But he didn't leave. When I asked him why, he told me that he had lived everywhere from Texas to Pennsylvania, but had never found any place quite like our valley. He then paraphrased the paragraph above and said, "I'd be a damn fool to leave." (Eventually we did increase his pay to make sure we kept him, but the true character of Roanoke did the rest.)

So if our Mayor and other members of Council and city government as well as our civic and economic development leaders would take note . . . Please think a little more like the people up on that bridge, "outside the confines of your everyday expectations" and a little less like the over-exuberant officials "who have it all figured out . . ."

Play to the God-given strengths of this Valley and watch it shine.

Or hand over the keys to someone who will.