Copyright (C) 2001 by Michael Segers, All rights reserved
Brought to you by Peanut.org
A Drive on Isabella Street
I hope everyone in Sylvester and environs
recognizes the treasure we have running the length of our city, Isabella Street.
And, wherever you are on the Internet, if you are outside of Sylvester
and its environs, do plan a trip to check out this distinctive street and
community.
My family lived on Isabella Street for
almost four decades; now that we don’t, I can celebrate this grand old lady of
a street without any suspicion of conflict of interests.
But, I am very interested, still, in this piece of small town Americana
that captures so much of our history in its distinctive blocks.
Going North from Highway 82, Isabella
Street runs through the first half of the twentieth century, from the grand old
two-story houses (full of many stories) on up through the sprawling houses with
picture windows so typical of that decade when television opened a picture
window onto the world. (Gee, some
decades from now, I wonder what sort of architectural analogies with the
Internet some distant columnist will make.)
Going south from the highway to the
railroad, there is a business district that has seen its ups and downs but now
seems to be looking up. It’s
especially pleasant to see the aluminum (the height of style not too long ago)
being taken down so that the distinctive store fronts can be seen once again.
At the railroad tracks, we pause to consider the sad, divided history of
our town and our society, as we move drive past buildings that tell us more
about our shared history, and then, we gradually leave the town behind and see
the treasure on which Worth County’s economy depends: its rich farmland.
The history, tradition, and meaning of the
many structures and trees lining Isabella Street make that street a gift that
was carved out of this rich farmland and shaped by generations who lived and
worked and hoped here. At least in
Sylvester, we haven’t had much in
the way of organized preservation. We’ve
lost some buildings, we’ve seen other buildings restored to their early
beauty, and we’ve seen some fascinating examples of recycling, the adaptation
of older structures to newer functions—such as the renovation of the railroad
station (not on Isabella Street, but visible from it). We have been fortunate to
have community leaders who recognize the value--the values in terms of more than
just price--of our historic structures.
Our buildings and streets are not just old
and pretty. They are ongoing
witnesses to our past, the good and the bad.
But, as they are renovated, recreated, and reused, they point us toward
the future as sure as our community free-net does.
And, here is where the Internet and
Isabella Street intersect. When we
drive along Isabella Street, or along other old streets in Sylvester and the
other communities of Worth County, we are driving over, by, and through history.
What better place to put that history into words than on the free
members’ pages of Peanut.org, where the information and celebration of our
history can be accessed by people all over the world?
There is a popular novelty, a sign that
reads “On this site in 1898 (or some other year), nothing happened.”
The truth is, quite a lot has happened in and around the farms and
communities of Worth County just about every year, with stories of old families
fading away, new families coming in, young men going off to war, students
learning and trying not to learn, farmers finding the optimism to plant another
crop, and new generations making the same old mistakes and discovering the same
old truths, which somehow renew themselves with every generation. I hope that
you will find your own stories and your own way of sharing them as we move into
a strange new century with all its challenges and opportunities.
This has nothing to do specifically with Isabella Street, but it does illustrate how we can use modern technology to keep the past alive. A friend recently shared with me this photo, cherished in her family, despite its damage:
After just a few minutes with a graphics
program, the old photo looked like this:
For me, that repair of the photo is
symbolic of how we can look to the technology of the future, which is already
here, to maintain our links to the past. I
don’t have any Internet links this time, just a hope that you keep your feet
dry, your heart full of noble thoughts, and your links to your friends and
family, your unique history and the history of our community, stronger than
ever.