It’s about time

Most folks who speak during meetings of the Fort Smith board of directors talk much and say little. Including the members of the board. Especially members of the board.

David Kerr stood before the board July 9, held up his copy of the city’s newest historic preservation plan and said simply, “It’s about time.” Kerr attends most board meetings and has for many years lobbied the city to do a better job encouraging and supporting historic preservation. He was (and is) most pleased with the new plan.

The board voted to formally adopt the new historic preservation plan, and Mayor Ray Baker reiterated Kerr’s “It’s about time” statement. Mayor Baker said he was especially impressed with the possibility of acquiring state and federal financial incentives described in the plan. (Odd, it is, how The Mayor likes state and federal tax dollars to connect us to our past, but criticizes the attempt to pursue state and federal tax dollars to plan or build for our future.)

The “It’s about time” statement with respect to historic renovation is indeed about time. Because Fort Smith places history at the forefront of its tourism marketing efforts, what we “sell” is about time; the time during which the city was nothing more than a small collection of civilians catering to a U.S. military fort; the time during which homes were built and neighborhoods began to evolve; the time during which we fought with Native Americans, outlaws in Indian territory and each other; the time during which our economic success pushed east the boundaries of a city resulting from the manifest effort to push west this nation; the time during which many of those early homes and neighborhoods were neglected in that push east.

It’s about time to reverse the neglect. It’s been said a society can be judged by how it treats its elderly citizens. Smarter people than I (and that’s a lot of folks) might say that doesn’t apply to how a city treats its “elderly” structures, but I say it should. Like senior citizens, many structures now neglected supported the evolution of a city we now enjoy; they provided comfortable homes to citizens who built this city; provided places where those citizens could buy necessary goods and foodstuffs; provided places where those citizens could meet for worship or to plan for the future citizenry.

To be sure, we aren’t collectively neglecting our historic structures and areas out of a wholesale lack of respect or concern — although results are often the same irrespective of the cause of neglect. Such work requires serious money, and that serious money requires a government process that not only facilitates such work (tax incentives, grants, etc.), but provides measures to protect the investments. Who wants to invest a few hundred thousand dollars — if not millions — in a historic property knowing the local government has neither proven plan nor proven interest in protecting such investments?

It might be instructive to note that proper and/or adequate attention has found some of our historic structures and neighborhoods. The Belle Grove Historic District — home to the Clayton House and the Bonneville House — is an area where individuals, non-profits and the city of Fort Smith have attempted to preserve a wide spectrum of historic structures. And Paul Giuffre and his partners at The Brunwick Place were the first many years ago to place their financial bets on historic preservation in downtown Fort Smith.

It’s about time we maximized the fiscal and physical support faithfully invested by the thousands of generous souls connected to the Clayton House, Bonneville House, Brunwick Place and other important historic renovations in the city.

There are many solid socio-economic reasons to consider that it’s about time we support smart plans to encourage and protect historic renovation. But there is nothing to be written here that improves upon two simple sentences set forth in the executive summary of the historic plan: “If Fort Smith is to develop an economically viable, livable and sustainable urban core, its downtown neighborhoods must be rehabilitated and protected. With work, Fort Smith can reclaim a unique, colorful and livable downtown where people live, work and play.”

And that’s the Big Dang Point. People are going to live, work and play somewhere. And the really smart, young and entrepreneurial folks will live, work and play where they damn well please. We, as a region of communities, should seek with much passion to be a reasonable option for a large chunk of those go-where-they-damn-well-pleasers.

There are many ways this could all go wrong and we lose more time. City bureaucrats could engage rules that, while well-intended, make historic renovations cost-prohibitive or, ironically, time-prohibitive. Each hoop we add to the process adds dollars, time and the associated frustration resulting from requiring more time and dollars. Historic renovation is a marketplace. If we make our marketplace too difficult, state and federal incentives and private dollars will seek restorative projects in other towns and states.

Also, more time could be lost if the city talks about the plan and does little to walk it. We must hope and/or demand that this plan doesn’t end up like many other city development plans, which is to say a document with good ideas on the inside, layers of dust on the outside and located in a place not even Robert Ballard could find.

Not all will agree with all provisions of this new preservation plan, but it’s about time we get behind a plan and aggressively monitor the city as it attempts to engage the plan. And it’s about time we bring patience to this effort and, more importantly, an institutional memory to remember why it’s about time we take time to preserve the time captured in stones and porches and windows and doors and high-ceilings and magnificent stone and wood craftsmanship of structures that brought us to this time.

It’s about time we better capture the pieces of yesterday for tomorrow.