What’s the lowdown on your town’s downtown?

My parents used to talk about the county’s farmers streaming into town on Saturday and shopping until midnight.
From my own childhood, I still remember Petula Clark’s then-new song “Downtown” blaring from the radio at my hometown’s first Dollar General Store (located about a block from the public square).
During junior high, I sketched a map of all the businesses and landmarks surrounding the courthouse. (You’re right; that venture should have been a genuine chick magnet, but somehow I got the polarity reversed. Or maybe it was the fact that this one particular zit was bigger than the town’s Civil War statue. At this late date, who knows?)
Alas, the nation’s downtowns (or central business districts or “that tumbling tumbleweed wouldn’t give me the right-of-way” zones) have faced cataclysmic obstacles in the ensuing decades.
Once upon a time, downtown reliably included drugstores, jewelers, shoe repair shops, a movie theater, a grocery store, “dry goods” stores, the “five-and-dime,” churches and so much more.
A combination of parking problems, bypasses, strip malls, online ordering and budget-busting maintenance costs for century-old buildings has really done a number on downtown (and in extreme cases that number is “666”).
True, a precious few communities haven’t missed a step, maintaining diverse and thriving downtowns against all odds. Others fell into decay but managed to revitalize themselves with clean-up projects, boutiques, retro malt shops and themed festivals. (“Come for the rhododendrons. Stay for the explanation of why our founder wasn’t so terrible as racist misogynists go.”)
Others towns, however, continue to struggle year after year. Seriously, courthouse yards are supposed to be decorated with historic monuments — not humongous defibrillators. (“Clear! Clear! Mom! Pop! Keep that licorice-and-coal-bucket emporium open!”)

Youngsters and newcomers may be baffled by the nostalgic emphasis on downtown tradition; but People of a Certain Age have earned the right to yearn for the simplicity of receiving real service at the shoe store, whittling for hours, paying the doctor with a chicken (when he sets the leg you broke trying to feed the parking meter in time), receiving a free asbestos-wrapped lollipop from the bank president and so on. Good times.
The more optimistic municipalities care enough to secure state/federal grants, motivate volunteers, spruce up the landscaping and subsidize squeamish entrepreneurs. They just have to keep their focus on the three big questions. “What are the core needs of the populace? What resonates with tourists? What’s in it for the mayor?”
One cringe-worthy aspect of the uphill battle is that some towns bite off more than they can chew (and the dentist is now way down by the interstate exit). They seem locked into a cycle of a new “once-in-a-lifetime chance to rebrand our town” every five years or so.
As the Good Book teaches, “Civic pride goeth before…putting on a wig and fake moustache and applying for yet another state/federal grant.”
Or, if you’re more into Chubby Checker, “Let’s refurbish again like we did last summer. Let’s refurbish again like we did last year. And the year before and…”
Don’t give up if your initial efforts prove fruitless. Be creative. Throw everything against the wall and see what sticks.
“Aiiieee! We threw everything against the wall and the whole building collapsed! Can we posthumously sue the contractor who patched the leaky roof with materials from the five-and-dime? Find a lawyer who accepts eggs in payment…”

Copyright 2024 Danny Tyree, distributed by Cagle Cartoons newspaper syndicate.