Skip to main content

The death of downtown

One sunny Saturday afternoon we cruised along Highway 67 into Cleburne, Texas, a town and county seat about 26 miles south of Fort Worth. As we approached we were assailed on both sides by large plastic signs advertising the usual mix of chain stores, fast food restaurants and car repair places. We reached downtown, parked, got out of the car and looked around.

It was dead. Apart from a few people painting a Christmas mural on their church window, there were no people around, no cars parked, and very few shops open. This, you will recall, was a Saturday afternoon, in near-perfect autumn weather. Where was everyone?

Travelling around Texas, you soon learn that nearly every community will try and lure you in with the promise of a "historic downtown". As far as I can gather, this merely means that some of the buildings have been there for more than fifty years. A few, notably Granbury and Jefferson, are actually attractive and contain some functioning businesses. Many others consist of two dusty antique shops, an aging department store with a mannequin featuring styles from 1970, and a shut cafe. Incidentally, I have never understood why antique stores count as a tourist attraction. Do people really go on holiday with the intention of buying a claw-footed bathtub and a set of dusty dining chairs? Or is it more of an impulse buy? "Oh yes, darling, I'm sure we can tie them on the car roof somehow."

To return to my point. Which is, that many Texas towns somehow fail to have any kind of functioning downtown area. And Cleburne is a case in point. It's trying, certainly. After walking past a few shuttered antique shops and weathered buildings we were suddenly confronted by a magnificent mural depicting the cattle routes and trains that are part of Cleburne's heritage. The bright images overflow their frames to really hit you in the face. It's an awesome piece of work. Round the corner, the glint of a neon OPEN sign led us to Mill Street Coffee, one of the quirkiest and homeliest cafes I've been in. The menu's not extensive, but the "take one and leave one" bookshelf, the checkers table and the guitar leaning against the comfy sofa make it a place where you want to grab a few lattes and settle in for the afternoon. But the total number of customers while we ate a late lunch and played checkers? About three.

It's not that the area is under-populated. Cleburne boasts a population of around 29 000, and is a mere half-hour drive away from the vast DFW metroplex. While perhaps not enjoying the importance it had in previous years, when it was a junction and supply area for several railway lines, it appears to be reasonably prosperous. There's a state park just down the road with all sorts of interesting fossils, and a nearby lake in which you can fish, should the fancy take you. While not a place you might immediately think to visit, chances are good there is a reasonable throughput of out-of-towners.

Trying to think of a suitable British comparison, I hit upon Todmorden, where Graham's parents live. Much smaller than Cleburne, at about 11 000 inhabitants, it hasn't got the prosperity it used to when wool was king and mills were round every corner, but it's not doing too badly. It's a similar distance from the nearest big city, in this case Manchester, and is close to the Pennine Hills. However, wander into the centre of Todmorden on a typical Saturday afternoon and there will be plenty of people around. Although some of the pubs have closed recently, you have your choice of half a dozen cafes. There's both an indoor and outdoor market, a couple of supermarkets and a host of smaller shops. It's not a tourist destination, but if you happened to be passing by you could easily quench your thirst, eat some lunch, and buy a newspaper. Despite the loudly-lamented demise of many local shops, you could say the same for most British towns.

So why is it that so many downtowns here are either preservation-heavy tourist traps or tumbleweed-ridden ghost lands? The easy answer is to blame the car culture. Plenty of people probably live within ten minutes' walk of Cleburne Main St. Most of them would never think to walk there. They would much rather drive ten miles to the superstore. Some would say that the distances in Texas make driving a necessity. To a point this is true, but the main residential part of Cleburne is no more than 3 miles in diameter. Admittedly walking a mile when it's 110F is liable to reduce you to a sweaty puddle, but during the cooler 9 months of the year it is not a difficult distance.

For those coming from outside the city, I guess the familiar names on the busy billboards capture them before they ever reach downtown. Need a coffee? Well, we've heard of McDonalds, Starbucks, Dunkin Donut. We know the routine. Why risk going to some local place which is probably closed anyway? This way we can whizz into the drive-thru and keep right on going.

I think it's sad. Maybe downtowns have had their day. Maybe we should embrace change and let life move out to the crowded aisles of Walmart. But a Walmart is a Walmart is a Walmart, and I want to know what makes Cleburne Cleburne. What makes it different to Jacksboro, Weatherford, Fredericksburg? If the only atmosphere is one where time stopped 50 years ago, that doesn't tell me much about the town now. By all means honour the past, but let's give downtowns a present and a future. Americans unite! Support your local downtown!

Comments

Anonymous said…
We British love our city centres, or even town and village centres. Cars probably have something to do with it but also I think that it's Wall Mart. While the supermarket is now king in Britain, we still only tend to buy food and other daily items in them. For other stuff, we shop around, hence a collection of shops, hence a centre. From what I remember of Wall Mart's, you can pretty much buy anything in them. I still remember the shock as I was buying food and spotted the gun counter in the corner.

I was talking to a Czech lady the other day and she recounted her surprise when she first moved to the UK when she saw that rain did not stop us Brits walking around.

I fear though that as Tesco continues it's march toward market domination then we may yet see our centres decline. I hope not though and maybe our love of walking will preserve our centres for decades to come.

David
John Evens said…
This is basically a summary of Bill Bryson's book "The Lost Continent". It took him a lot longer to make the same conclusion!

Popular posts from this blog

I have a piano!!!

OK, maybe we should have bought a stand! But who cares if it doesn't have the most aesthetically pleasing setting - it's great to have something to play on again. My most loving and wonderful husband had obviously picked up a few signs that I was missing my piano (no, I wasn't hinting that badly!) and a few days ago said, "I was just in the guitar shop and they had a big sale on keyboards - do you want to take a look?" So we went and browsed around a bit, and he firmly dragged me away from the $1000+ models and made me look at some more reasonable ones, and after some discussion we went for this little Casio. It's more portable than the type with a built-in stand, which was a big consideration when we know we're moving in less than 2 years and I had to leave my old one behind for precisely that reason. It's got weighted keys so the touch is good; the sound could be better but it renders Bach quite prettily even if not really coping with Rachm...

Working on sunshine

Freeeee electricity!  No, seriously.  This guy came and knocked on the door one day, and I don't usually pay any more attention to random strangers trying to sell me something at the door than you probably do, but I guess he must have said "free" enough times to penetrate my consciousness, so I found myself agreeing to have someone check our house's suitability for solar panels.  And another guy turned up, and measured; and another one, and we signed; and a few more, and put up scaffolding and panels and meter boxes and cable; and suddenly, if we're careful, we can avoid paying for any electricity during daylight hours, because it's all generated right up there above our heads. Of course, we have the British government to thank for this, which probably means we're paying for it somewhere along the line.  The Department for Energy and Climate Change (presumably it's actually against climate change rather than for it, although you never know) has...

It isn't that important to me...

When we went sailing a few weeks ago, I mentioned to one of the club members that I had tried sailing a topper as a teenager, and really enjoyed it.  He asked: "Why haven't you done any sailing since then?" Well. On the face of it, that's a perfectly reasonable question.  On the other hand, why don't we do all these many things that we would probably enjoy if we did them? Because our weekends are already full.  Because we don't know anyone else who does it.  Because it will cost money.  Because we're afraid it will take up all our time. Because the kids don't want to. Because, quite frankly, it isn't that important to us. Which isn't really something you can say to someone who's been sailing for longer than you've been alive.  But that's pretty much what it comes down to. That brief conversation, and a similar one with a tennis instructor, served to point out the difference between those who are "in" an ...