Monday, June 18, 2007

Character of town and its leadership are casualties in Barnum decision

By John McTaggart

Before joining the Buzz, I would come to town occasionally and walk the downtown streets, make my way through some of the tree-lined neighborhoods and daydream about living in this or that home. I believed that an address in Birmingham would signal my arrival, let people know of my success, and give me a town I could call home and be proud of.

There are few towns that inspire these kind of thoughts. Birmingham is one of them.

Truth is, I still feel that way.

However, before long, a three-ton wrecking ball will demolish Barnum School and extinguish a part of Birmingham history. Down will come the walls and windows, nearly 100 years old, and down will come a piece of the character that makes this town what it is.

In the name of progress, this property, with the addition of some grass seed and a few trees, will soon be transformed into a community park, complete with ball diamonds, soccer fields and a playground. In the name of progress, the school will soon be forgotten, as will the pleas of those who are so passionate about preserving at least the original portion of the school.

In St. Clair Shores, where I live now, there are no fewer than seven community parks within three miles of my home. In the town to my west, there are five, beyond that, dozens more, and here in Birmingham, there are a slew of beautifully kept community parks, including the western portion of the Barnum property itself.

There are, however, very few Barnum Schools.

What many are missing here is the fact that this old building is one of the few remaining links between Birmingham today – vibrant, bustling, affluent and thriving – and Birmingham yesterday – a quaint, blossoming village, inviting and friendly.

The City Commission, along with the current Ad Hoc Design Committee, seems quite firm on their decision to demolish the building, even going so far as to speed up the process by six months or so. Having sat through several Ad Hoc Design Committee meetings, it’s obvious that this issue was decided long before it was ever up for discussion.

This is, I’m afraid, the seedy side of local politics.

Backdoor dealings and easily influenced boards, commissions and committees are commonplace in city politics. Far too often, the loudest opinion is the one that gets recognized, not necessarily the most practical or best one for the community.

In this case, it’s particularly true. A persistent, persuasive and vocal group has taken the Barnum issue hostage, and the rest of the town is forced to pay the ransom.

True, it is expensive to maintain, to renovate, to refurbish and to rejuvenate, but the costs are small given the value of a grandfather telling stories to his grandchildren of the days he spent within those four walls, days when the town wasn’t so urbanized. Even Commissioner Scott Moore and Mayor Tom McDaniel elicited a chuckle from the crowd at the commission’s last meeting when they spoke about the memories they had of attending Barnum School.

By tearing this building down, you essentially fade these stories, and countless others like it, away.

It really isn’t so much about saving the school as it is about making the best decision. Perhaps City Manager Tom Markus is right, that selling a portion of the property makes more sense. Let those funds make the remaining property at Barnum even more beneficial to the community. Perhaps turning the original school into “Barnum Pavilion,” as the Rea/Peterhans plan suggested, is the best option.

Either way, the frightening part of this whole episode is the gullibility and outright arrogance of many on the City Commission. An integral part of leadership is the ability to make decisions that benefit those you lead, even if it goes against the will of those who shout the loudest.

When I walk down the streets of Birmingham today, I still daydream, still pick out homes here and there I would love to live in, and still dream of calling this town home. However, when leaders make shortsighted decisions, allow themselves easily influenced, and fall prey to power-hungry political factions around town, it sours my view.

The Birmingham I hope to live in is closer to Mayberry than Metropolis. Sometimes, the leaders of this community forget this.

Birmingham is about strong character, in old buildings like Barnum School and in its leaders. This is what draws people in, prompts young people to dream of a day they can call this town home. With the decision of the City Commission last Monday evening, essentially approving the demolition of the school with little or no due diligence, this town lost a bit of both.