Questions

Walking downtown this morning, I passed the home of a good acquaintance, someone I have known since high school. He was doing yard work; I waved as I approached.

Rex straightened up as I came even to his house and, pointing at me, announced loudly, "I wonder how many people in Delaware know you were a majorette in high school?"

I didn't miss a beat in replying.

"None, including me, because I wasn't."

Zora Neale Hurston wrote "there are years that ask questions and years that answer them."

Yeah, and sometimes the questions that get asked are so goofy you don't need a minute, let alone a year, for the answer to appear. 

My sousaphone and I, 1974

For the Price of a Tomato

Our downtown turns into our family kitchen twice a week from May until October. On any Saturday morning or Wednesday afternoon, you can find the sidewalks lining Sandusky Street, our main drag, overflowing with locally grown or produced vegetables, flowers, honey, fruits, cheeses, jellies, jams, and baked goods. In the five years since it was started by our local Main Street organization, our downtown farmers market has grown from a handful of vendors to a block and half on Saturday as it hits full swing this summer.

I love farmers markets. Some of that love is sensory: the sight, feel, and smells of a farmers market are indelible. But visiting a farmers market is more than just a trip to an outdoor produce aisle. When you are at a farmers market, whether or not you buy a single item, you are immersed in a rich swirl of talking and laughing and sharing opinions as to the wares all around you. You talk to the farmers, you talk to the bakers, you talk to the other shoppers, friends or strangers, just to share the moment. It is community making at its very best, and I am a huge believer in community making.

It is more than just socializing that makes our market a com- munity tool. Here in Delaware, the Council for Older Adults has a voucher program for seniors on limited incomes. The seniors can redeem the vouchers at area farmers markets and the Council will reimburse the vendor dollar for dollar. In 2008, the Council spent approximately $61,500 on the program, of which $40,000 was redeemed in our downtown market. That is a win/win for our seniors, for our vendors, and for our community.

I visit farmers markets in other communities whenever I am near one. While in Chicago in June, I jumped at the chance to go to the Lincoln Park farmers market, despite the cold, rainy weather. It was worth it just to see the mountain of asparagus at one booth and what was 

surely the most photogenic lettuce in Chicago at another. In Lexington, Kentucky, I chatted with a farmer about "greasy beans" and purchased pawpaws, which prior to then I had only known as a song item. It was off-season when Warren and I were in South Haven, Michigan, but despite the snow and the ice skaters, the bright mural on the nearby wall spoke of what was in store in months to come. Clearly communities across the country agree that good things happen when you bring the grower and the consumer together in downtowns and parks.

When our local farmers market first opened, I joined forces with a friend and we sold baked goods - pies and breads (me), coffeecakes and rolls (her) - at the first several Saturday markets. Baking for that market meant baking late on Friday night and then getting up early Saturday to complete everything. (At that time I lived downtown, three floors above Sandusky Street, so getting goods to the market was easy.) I remember that summer as being full of energy and excitement and exhaustion all at the same time. I learned to bake eight pies simultaneously that summer and I learned how truly much I enjoyed the give and take on the street, talking to customers, remembering the repeat buyers. My sons loved it because they got any leftovers and because I always had a box full of money at the market's close. That extra money made a huge difference at a time when my income was being stretched way past too thin to cover two households. Ben's sandals came from those pies that summer and so did the little bit of extra cash for the guys to go to a movie, buy a pizza with friends, or just not feel quite so broke. (It served the same purpose for me.) I have never repeated that experience but I treasure it still.

Farm markets play a large role in community building and our local market is no exception. Nationwide, there are over 4600 markets operating. The USDA calls them an "integral part of the urban/farm linkage." The Ohio Farm Bureau calls them "building blocks" for a community's renewal and vitality. The Project for Public Spaces calls them a tool to build better places. Through an activity like a farmers market, mere space becomes place and through a sense of place, we come together and thrive as a community. Our local farmers market brings people into our core to shop, to visit, to laugh, to talk, and to compare tomatoes.

I am a firm believer that lasting commu- nity change comes through group effort. Farmers markets are wonderful ways for all of us to effect change, whether it is feeding our seniors or reinforcing our commitment to local food producers. Looking at the activity in our downtown market reinforces my belief that we share common goals and a collective future in this town we call home.

Community building and place making for the price of a fresh tomato. Priceless.

Community I

As a child growing up in the then small town of Delaware, Ohio, I would often stand on the downtown sidewalks and stare up at the buildings, wondering what used to be in the clearly vacant upper floors. As an adult, I was lucky enough to be able to write about my hometown’s commercial architecture for the local newspaper. Writing those articles, which ran for almost two years, gave me the opportunity to get into, under, through, and on top of many of Delaware’s downtown buildings and satisfy that long-held fascination with the buildings.

Delaware is gifted in that it has a fairly intact downtown commercial district. Much of the existing building stock is original to the nineteenth century and, except for changes to the storefronts of the buildings, reasonably intact. The predominant style is Italianate, an architectural style that was most popular in this country in the decades preceding and following the Civil War.

In looking around downtown Delaware, we are reminded constantly of our past. The buildings that line our downtown streets are familiar to us, so familiar that we often walk past them without seeing them. We notice them instead by their absence, as with the gap on West Winter Street where Bun’s stood before the fire. Our downtown buildings are so familiar that they appear in our dreams and shape our expectations of what a “real” downtown looks like. When we travel to other communities, we feel most at home, without even recognizing it, in those whose downtown buildings and facades resemble our own. We know our Delaware streetscape well even if we don’t always acknowledge it.

What I find equally fascinating is the role of a downtown in a community. Winston Churchill said “We shape our buildings and afterwards our buildings shape us.” In doing so, mere space becomes place and through a sense of place, a community comes together and thrives.

Our City Manager recently said that “there is a heart to this community and the downtown is that heart.” That was as true a century ago as it is today. We still look to our downtown as the core of this community. We no longer have the Pumpkin Show; now the Delaware Arts Festival fills our streets in mid-May. The downtown fountains are gone, but we have wonderful tile mosaics popping up on the sides and backs of buildings. The summer band concerts on the courthouse lawn ended when the summer band program did; the local symphony performs a free Fourth of July concert that attracts thousands from all over the region. The downtown Farmers Market turns our downtown into our family kitchen twice a week from May until October. Although we have changed in so many ways in one hundred years, our downtown and its role in our community has remained largely intact. The downtown is our heritage from past generations and also our legacy to future ones. Our community is richer because of it. Like having a local symphony, a local college, and a local Farmers Market, we are richer because of our streetscape.

Visitors to Delaware often exclaim over our downtown streetscape. It is charming; it is visually appealing. In Delaware, the past is our present. We have retained our old buildings, not as museum pieces, but as our identity. Unlike other communities that didn’t realize the important of place to a community, Delaware did. One only has to travel to a community that razed its downtown in the middle of the twentieth century to realize what a treasure we have in our midst.

If you own real pearls, I was told you are supposed to put them on hours before whatever event you plan to wear them to. Apparently pearls pick up the warmth and oils from your skin and are more lustrous as a result.

Our downtown is not unlike a string of pearls. We have worn it daily, sometimes casually, sometimes carelessly, for over a hundred years. Like those pearls, our downtown has taken on the warmth and the glow of that daily use. May we continue to wear it proudly.