© 1993 Grafx Computing
Reprinted Spring Thaw 1995

 

Photo by Juan Wilson for Jamestown Riverfront Masterplan 1992

Sara and Rachel were going to be very late getting into Jamestown. The trip from Panama to town should have brought them in by midday, even with the market stop in Lakewood. But that old car hitting the Labrador had ruined their plans. Now it was four o'clock and they were just leaving the vet's. Sara used the little palmtop computer in her purse to call Bob and Carolyn and update her message about their delay. Its screen flashed a news headline about a fight in Congress between Federalists and Regionalists over an attempt to revive the bankrupt federal budget. Most people thought it would amount to nothing but more overhead and debt re-payment schedules.

"Grandma, he'll be okay, won't he?"

"Who? Oh, you mean the puppy."

Sara knew that she was avoiding the fear in her mind. What if Ted Whitney hadn't been there to find Rachel when he had. . .

She looked at Rachel and realized how tired both of them were.

"I think Dr. Conroy will take good care of him."

It took a few minutes to make their way back to the train station in Lakewood. A moment after they got on the platform the clang of the trolley bell brightened her spirits. The wicker basket Sara had carried all day was empty now and felt weightless as she lifted it to get into the car.

They took seats on the left side of the car, avoiding the glare of late afternoon sun. There was a nice view toward the lake. Once the trolley began rolling Rachel leaned against her grandmother and sighed. Sara was by the window and turned to look out as they passed the Lakewood Community Park. The tracks were close to the reeds now. Before the silting-in of the lower part of the lake, this spot was the closest the trolley tracks got to the old shoreline. Someone with an arm for baseball could have picked a rock from the track bed, and with a good swing, reached the water. Sara could see that marsh grasses carpeted just about everything that had been open water all the way across Burtis Bay and over to the shore in Elmhurst . She knew somewhere out there was a channel that gave the lake steamers passage to the Chadakoin River and downstream to the Boat Landing, but she couldn't find it now.

The tracks followed the edge of the shore. There was a single line of wood frame houses placed cheek-to-jowl right up against the road. From the peeling paint and broken windows, Sara could see they were empty. After the silting-in the Watershed Conservancy had bought them with a plan to raze them and restore the area to its natural condition. What else could you do? Sara looked northwest, to the open water of lower Chautauqua Lake. The late afternoon sun lay golden over the eastern hills of Sunnyside and Greenhurst. She turned to Rachel, to say something about the light, but the girl was asleep. Sara ached inside knowing she'd be alone again and separated from Rachel for weeks.

Sara must have closed her eyes for a few minutes too, because when she opened them the train was almost to the first stop in town. The tracks hugged up against the hillside between the village of Celeron and city of Jamestown. The train passed the South & Central Chautauqua Lake Sewage District Water Pollution Control Facility. It was the first local operation taken over by the Allegheny Regional Authority. Nearby there had been lots of effort cleaning up the old industrial sites that had been abandoned along the tracks. Jones and Gifford Avenue had been closed. Everything between the tracks and the water had been cleared for wildlife sanctuary and recreational use. Below the embankment stands of birch and willows stood in the thriving marshland. In the distance a broad green wetland forest stood along the banks of the Chadakoin as it meandered its way into town. The forest out there was still untouched after two centuries of urban activity. Nature had somehow been able to preserve this ribbon of green followed the river into the heart of the city.

A long low brick wall streaked by, blocking the view. It was part of the Resource Center facilities that included the old manufacturing buildings constructed along the Erie Railroad tracks. For over twenty years the RC had been the largest employer in the county. It had operated several sheltered workshops and group homes for the handicapped, but since the turn of the century the RC "family" had been swollen by a new class... the "unemployable". A generation ago they would have been called unskilled blue-collar workers. For those who had not found a place in the new information economy or been able to start their own specialized businesses, the RC found work. The work was on large and small public service projects. RC members provided the backbone for manual labor in the construction, re-cycling and environmental clean-up efforts throughout the Chautauqua region. Some took full advantage of the structured and directed living environments the RC provided... a sense of community within the community.

They were slowing down.

"Fairmount Avenue & the Boat Landing"

There was a clang of the trolley bell and Rachel awoke suddenly. She saw they were at the edge of the city. Just as the trolley passed the last RC building, the view from the trolley opened up to reveal the green park and docking facility at the Boat Landing. The 120 foot rear paddle-wheeler, the Dunkirk, was at the dock with vapor streaming from twin relief valves. Nearly a hundred people were on or near the dock waiting to board. The summer season was gearing up. The trolley bell rang again and the engineer on the bridge of the steamship sounded a long twisting blast from the Dunkirk's whistle. The trolley came to a stop at Fairmount Avenue next to the old pedestrian underpass. There were several people waiting to take the train downtown.

"Grandma, what time is it?"

"Almost four-thirty. We'll be home in a few minutes"

"Can I go up front?"

"After the Fairmount stop."

She knew how much Rachel loved the last part of the trip.

Sara looked to the left, across the river, to the waterfront bars and restaurants that gave the Boat Landing district its reputation for nightlife. Before she had become a grandmother, the Keg Room had gained national fame for introducing regional bands to a wide audience by live satellite hook-up. That tradition had continued. Now the Boat Landing strip was a spot where bands from Buffalo, Pittsburgh and Cleveland wanted gigs. Sara remembered her mother telling her that in the mid-1900's, Jamestown was a tryout town for Hollywood movies - that would be called a market survey today. Audiences at the Winter Garden and Shea's theaters could see first run movies before nationwide distribution. Then Jamestown was a community that represented America in microcosm. Maybe it still did.

Rachel staggered to the front as the trolley started up again. They entered the deep valley the Chadakoin had cut as it curved through the city of Jamestown. Rachel was right up close behind the engineer's shoulder. It was a dramatic view which she never grew tired of.

Just downstream from the Boat Landing was the restored Trolley Barn. The huge old brick building had rows of arched windows stacked one above another. Trolley cars were recharged, repaired and rebuilt in its cavernous interior. The train clanked over the black steel railroad bridge, fifteen feet over the river. On another trip Rachel had hung her head out the window and saw the water below sparkling between the ties. The air was fresh and you could smell the mossy banks below. Their trolley would be on the other side of the river in a moment, joining the tracks that went along the east side of the lake back up to the county seat in Mayville. High above their heads was the Sixth Street Bridge and further downstream was the Third Street and Washington Street bridges that stitched the high ground of the city together.

They crossed the river and were onto a broad curving plain that followed the river around to the left and down into the city. This plain had once been the freight yard of the Erie Railroad and was today simply called The Yard. All but the two tracks used by the trolley had been taken for recycling. The Yard was a huge green meadow that hosted the regional festivals and special events that came to Jamestown. Rachel was looking forward to the Big Apple Circus that was scheduled to be in town July Fourth.

Right along the Chadakoin was a strip of trees with a walkway that ran along the steep shoreline. There were overlooks and seating areas. It was busy with joggers and tourists walking up to the Boat Landing for lake excursions. New low pedestrian bridges crossed both sides of the river valley and joined a high speed bicycle path which connected Celeron, through Jamestown, to Falconer. It paralleled the rim of the green plain next to the trolley and was part of the Riverwalk System that had become the backbone of economic revitalization for the city. It had linked one end of the city to the other along the waterway.

"Next stop Jamestown, Lafayette Station and the Chadakoin Mall. Change there for trains to Mayville via the east lake shore."

As the national economy had changed and the budget crisis engulfed federal and state governments, Jamestown shrank and concentrated itself along the river corridor. Almost half of the city's wood frame housing stock had been demolished. Those houses that remained were now in better shape, with larger lots and gardens, and in fact were now the city's suburbs. Two thirds of the of the area that had been the city of Jamestown was now part of the town of Ellicott. This relieved the unrealistic tax burden that plagued the city for generations. The only school still operating within the city's border was the K-12 magnet school at the former Jamestown High School. It specialized in theater arts and industrial design, with an apprentice program in furniture making; and attracted many tuition-paying students from the Allegheny Region.

The train passed under the Third Street Bridge and rounded the curve towards downtown. The Board of Public Utilities coal-fired power plant came into view on the right, just across the river. White steam drifted up from its evaporative coolers. Other than the Niagara Falls generating system, this publicly operated utility supplied the cleanest and cheapest energy in the lower Great Lakes area.

The train rattled across a switch as it moved to the left and towards the ramp up to the renovated station on Lafayette Street. The train climbed Second Street. Below, Rachel could see the Chadakoin Mall. It stretched out below and beyond the train station. Further down, along the shore and above the dam, were restaurants and coffee shops that served shoppers at the mall or pedestrians passing along the Riverwalk. The train slowed as it came to the top of the hill near the front of the station. On Lafayette Street was a year-round farmers' market. Local produce, fresh meat and dairy products were available in stores on either side of the street. In the warmer months there were carts at the curb with fruit and vegetables.

Sara knew it was time to get on her feet again. It had been a long day, but it was hardly over yet. She held the wicker basket to her side as she moved up to the front of the swaying car. When she reached Rachel they came into the station. They would get off at the next stop, Pine Street. Sara moved up behind Rachel and bent to her ear,

"Let's get ready."

The car wasn't very crowded, as many of the passengers got off for business at the Mall. The train began to move again. In a moment it was passing by the Furniture Exchange Building on Washington Street. The Exchange still had its Art Deco stainless steel entry canopy. Rachel had to twist and look up to see the ninth floor, where her Dad had an office. He worked for an association of local furniture makers.

"Your Dad should be home by now. Probably worried too."

Rachel watched as the trolley approached North Main Street. Just a block more and they'd be home. Ahead to the right was the headquarters of the Bank of Jamestown. It was the first bank sanctioned to distribute the local Chautauqua Greenbacks. Colorful banners were still hanging celebrating the week-long LucyFest. As they entered the busy intersection Sara looked left at The Bee Hive Center. Outside, at each end of the frieze on its entablature were huge beehives carved out of stone with bees as big as lemons. They hovered, wings spread timelessly. The Bee Hive had once been a saving's bank with a large sunlit lobby. Today The Bee Hive was a women's spirituality center. Rachel's mother, Carolyn, worked there when she wasn't in her studio painting. It was the home for a variety of activities that were still considered eccentric in western New York. There were meetings of the Gaia Group, a nature centered religion which worshipped Mother Earth; there were yoga and meditation classes, and a lesbian support group. The Hive housed an organic food co-op, a holistic health center and a thrift shop.

"Next stop Downtown and the Theater District."

To the right was the Lucille Ball Little Theater, and ahead on the left was the back of the Palace Theater, with a bridge connecting it to the broadcast facility of Paragon Cable TV across the street. Many artists lived in the area. Plenty of large cheap lofts were still available for those needing studio or rehearsal space. The craftsmen and artists' community along First and Second Street was the core of the new, leaner downtown Jamestown.

The train came to a stop at Second and Pine Street. Sara and Rachel stepped down to the road which was paved with red brick in a herringbone pattern. Since the trolley tracks had been laid, no private cars were allowed on Second. The street was busy with shoppers. There are several new small stores in the area again, but Sara was fondest of Jones' Bakery a half block up the street. Somehow Jones' had weathered the collapse of Jamestown and survived for the town's rebirth.

"Come on Rachel, take my hand."

Sara and Rachel made their way through the crowd boarding the train and walked down the steep incline of Pine towards First Street. This section of Pine always reminded Sara of San Francisco. The old brick street was so steep it had to twist back and forth twice in the length of the short block. You had to lean back to keep from falling over. Between the traverses of the street were small lawns with flowering trees.

Rachel's parents had leased their loft building at 110 Pine Street from their friend Roy, who had become well known as a still life painter. Sara watched as Rachel let go of her hand and ran ahead to the steps at the door of her home high above First Street. The late afternoon light cast deep shadows on the masonry industrial facades built in another era. Renovated, they now made up the heart of the theater and downtown shopping district. A single round brick chimney soared a 100 feet above the river, a landmark in the area. The stack had been smokeless for over two generations.

By the time Sara reached the steps, Bob had greeted Rachel and made his way through the door to wait on the stoop. He looked younger than he had in a long time. As Sara had gotten on in years she was often amazed by seeing the child in people, still there hiding under the mask of age and infirmity. She had that feeling now looking at Bob. He was thirty-eight. He wasn't young, but it wasn't too late for him to still have dreams.

He moved towards her, arms open, and they hugged for a long moment.

"Mom, we really were getting worried. Thanks for leaving the message."

"It's been a long day."

"It's not over yet, Mom. We have some news for you, so we're getting an early dinner ready. We can talk then."

They made their way inside and up the stairs. The big front room had exposure from the west and south, enough so that Carolyn's plants could luxuriate. In one of the tall windows was a miniature greenhouse for growing herbs. The whole space was filled with the aroma of fresh basil and oregano. Sara could see Carolyn in profile, standing at a steaming pot of pasta on the stove. She wore no make-up, yet still looked vibrant. Rachel was excitedly telling her story about the trip. Carolyn turned to Sara,

"Rachel just told me about seeing the dog hit. How awful!"

"We think he's going to be okay."

As they ate dinner, Rachel and Sara recounted the details of their adventure in Striptown. When it was over the talk died down. Bob had news.

"We've been working on this new process to grow synthetic wood. Bush and Crawford Furniture, with the IDA, put up most of the money. Anyway, it's really not so much synthetic wood as laboratory grown wood. We can use organic waste material like sawdust, wood chips and even twigs and fallen limbs. With these we utilize chemical engineering with enzymes to turn the wood waste into a special mix of raw material.

Then we use genetic engineering technology to gather the material we need from a tank full of this mix, in order to grow cells. In the tank we place special growth filaments that can be used to accumulate and align the cells. The result is a hard woody material that resembles real wood. It has the strength and workability of wood and will last centuries. This synthetic wood is smooth and strong and can take on any shape the filaments dictate. It's unlike plywood or particle board. Those materials are simply the gluing together of waste materials, and are not workable. They lose their structural integrity as the glue inevitably fails."

Carolyn got up to get hot water for tea. She looked at Sara and made eye contact. Then she turned to Bob.

"We all know this part, Honey. Tell them the news."

"Hang on, I'm getting there."

Bob was on a roll now. His eyes were bright, and his lips were a little dry. It was something that was familiar to all three women. They would simply let him run his course.

"The advantage of the lab grown wood is well known. With the proper use of the filaments, a monolithic form, of nearly any shape, like a chair or table, could be grown with structural integrity that no joining could accomplish. The problem was getting it out of the lab, and into a real production line. It was taking a over week to cure a piece as big around as a table leg. Too long for commerical use. That's what we've been working on, making this technology practical. . . Well, we've done it."

Now he was getting into something new. Sara began to listen more closely.

"We got it down so that you can grow a dining room table in an afternoon. My group came up with it. We began by sending pulsed charges down the filaments. Then we tried fluctuating the acidity of the bath on a slow harmonic cycle with the charged pulses.

The result was not only an order of magnitude faster growth, we even got growth rings like a real tree. Now the effort is on getting production lines started. We'll be able spend our energy designing furniture, not hiding garbage under a veneer. With the workability of the material, the opportunity for craftspeople to carve and decorate is unlimited."

Bob pulled a sample out his back pocket. It was about 3/4" in diameter and 4" long with the ends cut at an angle. He handed it to Sara. A tiny yet beautiful design was carved into the surface. Where it was uncut it felt smooth in a way sandpaper alone couldn't attain; almost as if it had been lacquered. She had seen samples before, but this one was different. . . It had the rings. The end-grain in the two elliptical faces made it look like a real piece of white oak. It was amazing.

"I grew that this morning at the shop. Used a laser to etch in a pattern one of the designers wanted to test. Anyway, to get to the punchline. Our furniture manufacturing consortium is seeking joint patents and copyrights on all the technology. Jamestown will be a mover and shaker in the furniture industry again. Everybody in our division is getting a huge bonus and I'm sure there will eventually be stock offerings. . . The point is, this family is going to have some money for once, and we can do whatever we want to now. We have options."

Carolyn returned to the table with the tea kettle. Everybody was smiling as they imagined the possibilities. She paused and added,

"We have options. But do we really know what we want? That's the question."

Carolyn turned to look at all of them. It seemed to her that Rachel was holding her breath, hoping this meant they could move to the farm with Grandma now. Sara was expectant, as if she knew there was more news coming. Carolyn poured tea for everyone and began.

"We will have the means to finish the projects you and Bob started at the farm, Sara. We can buy the solar panels and expand the goat farm. I am proposing we start another project. I've talked to Bob, and know what I want to do. . . But, its up to you to let it happen."

Rachel had been tired, but perked up and leaned forward now. Mom was going to say something important to Grandma.

"I know we haven't agreed on everything. That's not unusual with a mother and daughter-in-law, yet it's made me a little nervous about this.

I see that we're tied as three generations of women through Rachel, and I think it's important that we're together. To do that I want to move to the farm and start a women's spiritual center there. What I mean is, build a meeting place, in the woods, on the farm. Our experiences could be much closer to nature than anything we can do here in town. It could be a retreat. I hope it's something that over time will tighten our bonds. It would be a good experience for Rachel, too. But it will take time, and it might be risky. I need your blessing for it to work."

The news brought a surprised exclamation from Rachel and a broad smile from Sara, who reached out and held Carolyn's hand for a moment.

"I think it's a wonderful idea."

Sara knew what Carolyn meant by the risk. In small communities there were always a greater chance for intolerance. It was one reason there was still a need for cities, and why Carolyn had been reluctant to move. Some of Sara's friends might speak badly of it, but on the whole she felt there was plenty of toleration in Panama. In fact, there was evidence throughout the Chautauqua area of acceptance of spiritual experimentation; Chautauqua Institute, Lily Dale, and even Brushwood had proven that.

Rachel thought about them all being together that summer at the farm. It would be great! She put her head down on her hands and closed her eyes to see her dog Toby running across the big front lawn to where she sat high in the tree house.

Carolyn turned to look at Bob and then Rachel,

"I'm finally ready to go. It may be two years later than you guys were set for it; but none the less I'm ready, and now we'll have the means to do it right."

She turned back to Sara;

"Tonight I wanted to tell the executive board at the Bee Hive about our decision. You'll come, won't you?"

"Of course, Carolyn."

Bob looked over at Rachel and realized she had drifted off. He got up and came around behind her. She was still small enough that he could smoothly lift and cradle her without disturbing her sleep. He gathered her close and raised her in his arms. As he walked down the short corridor to her room he could hear the two women making plans. He smiled as he turned and entered the bedroom. He gently laid Rachel down in the bed and she curled into a sleeping position.

"Night, Rachel. Sweet dreams."