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| Fast Talk |
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| Written by Ron Swift / Fast Talk | |
| Friday, 09 May 2008 | |
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Nothing wrong with small-town living To put it straightforwardly, some of us are small-town people. Always have been. Always will be.  Ron Swift / Fast Talk But many of us chose to remain small-towners. For us, small-town life has far more advantages than disadvantages. We grew up knowing the neighbors next door and down the block. We still want to know them. We enjoy seeing them work in their yards, and we enjoy greeting them when out on walks or in the grocery store. I’m an example. I grew up in a small town (population 2,000) in eastern Iowa. It was the largest town in the county, and thus the county seat. In the 50-plus years since I left, it has grown to 2,500 inhabitants (in Iowa, that’s growth), but otherwise it hasn’t changed much. When growing up, we thought we had it all — a movie theater, carnivals and a roller skating rink that came to town in the summers, a county fair, a golf course, school activities in music, drama and athletics, fishing in the nearby river, ice skating in wintertime on a flooded lot in town, and a populace that turned out to enjoy and support everything that was going on. We had throngs of people at the Memorial Day service at the cemetery and the Fourth of July celebration in the downtown park. No one thought of missing such events. We didn’t have much crime, racial trouble or truancy. Some residents didn’t even own a house key, and we never locked our vehicles. Traffic problems were nil. We rode our bicycles everywhere, including to other small towns 15 to 20 miles away, used our sleds in the streets during the winter and camped out at the river dozens of nights — without adults. I remember going alone to the barber shop when I was about 8 years old. When I left, I forgot to give the barber the 50 cents in my pocket and, somewhat mortified, ran all the way back downtown with the money. The barber was somewhat surprised and said, “You needn’t have done that. I would have seen your dad tomorrow.” He hadn’t given my forgetfulness a second thought. Once while playing football on the lawn of a church, we broke a window. The church simply replaced it, and we weren’t asked to play elsewhere. In fact, nothing was mentioned to us. I went off to college at Iowa State in Ames. In the late 1950s, it was a small school in a small city. From there I landed in Salt Lake City for eight months. Salt Lake rolled up the sidewalks at about 9 p.m., and, needing a real job, I ended up in Central Oregon in a town of about 7,000. Then, in 1962, came Patterson — population 3,000. I thought it was about the right size and have called Patterson “home” ever since. My reasons for making this community my home are probably the same as other long-time Pattersonites’. They include the personal relationships with friends and neighbors and the interaction with people at our churches, civic clubs, community celebrations and places of business. I like to wave (and get a wave in return) at our police officers, city employees, ambulance drivers and firefighters, although I’m finding more and more that they are wondering, “Who’s that crazy ol’ guy waving his arm?” I’m still pleased when a local business owner calls out my name, and I enjoy breaking bread or sitting in church with people who remember our kids when they were small. I get a warm greeting from the mailman and find that most of our local postal employees are very congenial. Most store employees are helpful, especially in our local hardware stores, and we have always had superb professional services for a small community. Small cities like Patterson usually are run on volunteerism — and ours is no different. The volunteer effort that annually puts on the Apricot Fiesta is truly amazing, and so is the effort put forth by members of our various organizations — the Rotary, Lions and Soroptimist clubs, as well as organizations such as H.O.W., the Patterson Township Historical Society and the Patterson Repertory Theatre. They care about Patterson and prove it over and over and over. And those who have special needs are almost always provided for, especially in time of crisis. It’s the small-town way. TAKE EXCEPTION For the above reasons, I take issue with Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger, who last week said that state legislators from “little towns” should globe-trot to see things like an airport, a highway with 10 lanes or even a highway on top of a highway. I’ll not quarrel with our governor about what legislators should or should not see to get a perspective on life. But I’d like to set him straight on a point or two. He should be aware that some of us don’t miss traveling on 10-lane freeways. And when we need to travel by air, we seem to find our way to the appropriate airport. As for highways on top of highways, does our guv find them aesthetically appealing? Or does it matter to him? We also don’t mind driving 20 minutes to a big-box store. I, for one, would rather have 20 minutes of refreshing countryside than spend 20 minutes driving across town through heavy traffic. I can get to Home Depot in Modesto faster than friends living on the east side of that city. I can truthfully say that our kids grew up in Patterson with plenty to do. They never complained about lack of activities. And I’m glad our grandsons are growing up here, rather than in a larger city such as Modesto. Their chances of getting shot are far less. Certainly, not everyone is attuned to small-town living. That’s understandable. Maybe they haven’t the time or the energy to enjoy what some of us enjoy. We only ask them — and the governor — to concede that there is a desirable small-town way of life. Many of us are proof of that. THOSE MAJESTIC PALMS The City Council this week took issue with a Stanislaus County plan to install stop-and-go traffic lights at the four-way intersections where Sycamore and Elm avenues cross East Las Palmas Avenue. The first question was why, when the much more heavily traveled intersection at West Main Street and Carpenter Road has only stop signs. Much concern was voiced over the moving of seven historical palm trees, probably planted along Las Palmas in 1909. The plan calls for shifting them to gaps already existing in the double line of more than 400 tall trees. Whether they would survive such a move was a concern voiced by Councilman Dominic Farinha. About 20 years ago, local Boy Scout John Henson oversaw planting in the gaps of 50-plus young palms. It was John’s Eagle Scout service project, and his research into the type of palm revealed they have a lifespan of 100 to 125 years. That span is about up. John planted small palms, some 2 feet to 3 feet in height. It was at the end of the long drought period in the 1980s. A few died from lack of moisture, but most were soon stolen for replanting in backyards or run over by farm equipment working in adjacent fields. Not even five survived. It would behoove the city and county to consider planting more than 400 young palms between the present trees, whose lifetime is about up. Otherwise, Pattersonites will someday speak of our majestic palms in the same breath as the original Patterson High School building. AND FINALLY … Longtime residents remember Patterson native George Fleharty, younger son of the R.C. Flehartys, who owned this newspaper for nearly 30 years. George’s obituary is reported on Page 11 of this issue. George was a PHS graduate in the class of 1942. He went on to serve in World War II and became an entrepreneur extraordinaire, owning television stations and being the concessionaire in both Yosemite and Denali national parks. As a young man, he served as the mayor of Redding and later owned the Ice Follies and athletic teams in the Bay Area. George remained in contact with his Patterson roots, being a member of the local historical society and keeping in touch with local natives Walton and Allister Allen. A small-town boy who made good in the outside world. Ron Swift is editor/publisher emeritus of the Patterson Irrigator. His column appears weekly in this space. Comments
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I have to agree with you comments about small town living. I as many moved away from Patterson right out of high school. I moved to a large town and felt out of place. It was strange to not have anyone to wave at or acknowledge when going to the local grocery store. After about a year my wife and I decided to move to a small town(Galt). I like the fact that there is literally a dairy at the end of my street. Some visiting friends think it needs some getting used to. I like to read your articles with tid bits about the past. Thank you for your help and guidance when I was a youth growing up in Patterson.
Matt Lara