New Short Shot: The Secrets of Retail District Revitalization

I’m delighted to announce that the first in a new series I am calling Short Shots is on the street and available for you!  This brief, illustrated publication(this one is about 30 pages) functions like a quick, enjoyable, easy-to-read exploration of a topic, with pages that you can easily remove and share independent from the rest of it – for example, if you need to make a quick argument to a mayor or council member about how to do something. It’s more detailed than a blog post, but a much faster read than a book.  And easy on the wallet as well!

A Short Shot is a term used in manufacturing.  When you make a bottle or other container out of plastic or something like that you typically “blow” a small amount of the molten material into a mold.  If you do it right, the materials flattens out in a thin layer against the mold, and you have a container with an air space in the middle.  Of course, if you think about that very hard you can imagine all kinds of things going wrong – material is too thick, too much of it, doesn’t spread out right, etc.  And if you’re running a machine that makes a few thousand of these an hour, you have to make sure it’s right before you push the start button.  So a short shot is basically a test mold, one that you use to quickly and inexpensively see if a new idea is going to work.

I love that image, because I think of these Short Shots as a way for you to quickly and easily explore new ideas, without having to put them on that thick”reading list” of books that you know you should read, but …  Short Shot Business District Revitalization cover

This first one is on The Secrets of Commercial District Revitalization — it explores why some of the big ticket projects we put into our downtowns and other commercial areas didn’t make the difference we hoped for, and it looks at the challenge of making these districts work better from a whole different perspective – the local business owners.  If you’re looking for new solutions to making your commercial districts work better, and if you want to help your small business people become more successful, I think you’ll find this worth the very little effort it requires.

The Secrets of Commercial District Revitalization and all the rest of the Short Shots will be available in all of the places where you get your digital Wise Fool Press publications — Amazon Kindle, Square Market and now Gumroad, which works for those of you outside of the USA who haven’t been able to use the Square Market.  If you need print versions, send me a note at della.rucker@wiseeconomy.com and we’ll make it work.

This Short Shot and most of the upcoming ones are based on talks and trainings that I have done over the years, so if you’re looking for a presentation for an upcoming event, just let me know.

Here’s a sample inside page:

Short Shot Retail revitalization

The Future of Old Fashioned Downtowns: What can Our Downtowns do (and not do)?

Continuing my series of  parts of … something… exploring a potential new future role for traditional downtowns and business districts.  You can read the previous sections here, here, and here.  Might as well see where this goes…

 

So what do we do?

So, here’s the key question:  how do we increase and demonstrate the pragmatic, real-world value of downtowns – not just to downtown lovers and entertainment – seekers, but to the entire local economy?  How do we make downtown a more integral, essential, necessary part of the local economy?

 

I think the secret lies in claiming, reinforcing and articulating a new economic role for downtowns, one that can compliment and reinforce the dining/shopping/entertainment economy and the economic actors that come in search of that.  In a lot of communities, that role, that new opportunity, is as the incubator, the nursery, of the local economy’s future.  Downtowns already have the parts and the preconditions.  And increasingly, they’re fulfilling that role without anyone but a few insiders really realizing it. But people who care about downtowns and about the health of their local economy need to help downtowns step into that role, and communities need to give renewed attention to that role.

 

Not everything to everyone

OK, let’s not get too carried away here.  Clearly there’s a whole lot of roles in a local economy that downtowns aren’t really set up to do anymore, since we developed all those choices that we talked about before.  Brick and mortar retailers of basic goods and services – the stuff we need everyday – typically have to operate at a larger scale, a bigger physical footprint, than they did in the 1900s because all those choices means that they face enormous competition that holds their profit margins to the slimmest of amounts.  There’s a reason why it’s hard to find laundry detergent and paper towels in the little downtown groceries that sometimes take root in the wake of downtown residential development: there’s not enough profit margin in those products to make them profitable for the store, especially given the amount of precious shelf space they take up.  Even when a larger grocery store can make it work, such as in some of the most booming downtowns of the past couple of decades, you’ll find a much wider range of selection in high-end products, and fewer choices and smaller containers of basics.  That’s not just because the shoppers are generally more affuent.  It’s because the smaller spaces mean that the retailer has to move higher-margin goods, like prepared foods, to make enough profit.

 

Similarly, I think we all have to admit that the relatively tight quarters and small floor plates in downtown areas don’t lend themselves to assembly-line manufacturing. If building a product requires conveyor belts, robots, large machines, large quantity packing and shipping, rail spurs, loading docks, etc., there are very few spaces inside a traditional downtown that can accommodate them.  They just need too much land, in addition to any other unpleasantries that might not be appreciated by residents and diners (lots of cities have a sort of grey belt around their downtowns that historically included manufacturing, and may still today, but that’s a physically different area than the traditional downtown),

 

Obviously there’s other businesses that don’t fit in a traditional downtown — either they would have a hard time operating in that environment, or they would have negative impacts on other downtown uses.  Coal mine?  Warehouses?  A couple thousand office workers who all need immediate physical access to each other?  Most traditional downtowns would have trouble accommodating these.  They are types of uses that came along after the traditional downtown environment was established.

 

Here’s the deep challenge: these kinds of businesses – large retailers, manufacturing, warehouses, big offices, coal mines — that’s what people typically think of as “economic development.”  And it’s what a whole lot of city officials and mayors and members of council – and economic development professionals – think of as “real” economic development.  This is the stuff that they spend time and money on – sending staff on a trip to sell a business on moving to a community, building roads and sewers and running power lines to new development sites, giving incentives to get those businesses to move to town.  The size of business that they’ve been willing to tout as a “win” has been shrinking, but that’s because the size of businesses as a whole has been shrinking.  And sometimes these generally smaller businesses end up downtown because their employees want places to dine and drink and live the interesting city life.

 

But to many economic developers, government heads, elected officials, and the like, the purpose of the work is to bring in the biggest new thing you can get.  The measurement is volume: number of jobs, payroll,amount of new taxes.  How much the deal added, and how much it increased the amount available.  This is serious business.

 

I don’t mean that to knock my economic development colleagues – that is the job that many of them are charged to do. But for downtown supporters who want the places that they care about to mean more than novelty and entertainment, that purpose presents a challenge:

 

The types of economic activities that city governments and other agencies put their primary emphasis on, the types that make a real difference in the numbers they need to show…

 

Those, most of the time, don’t fit in a downtown space.

 

This is how we ended up with the downtown-as-entertainment-district. Economic practices and the impact of economies of scale changed, and the “serious” businesses moved where they could get more space, more land, bigger buildings, etc. The businesses that could fit in the smaller spaces were cast, and sometimes cast themselves, as niche, speciality, cute.  Appealing, but without “real” benefit, without substantial and easy-to-count impact on the entire local economy.

 

That’s why many more cities today have economic incentives for a new warehouse than they do for a new downtown cafe. From their perspective, the first is a need, the second is a nice-to-have.

 

The Future of Old Fashioned Downtowns: the Economics of the Situation

While I was travelling over the past couple of weeks, I found myself strangely sucked into writing this…I don’t know what it is yet…. about rethinking the economic role of traditional downtowns and other commercial districts.  This is Part 3 of the segments that I have more or less complete at this point.  And since I’m not on an airplane anymore and actually have to work on everything else now, it’s still a work-in-progress.

This section builds on the parts I published here and here and tries to tease out the economic implications of the fairly limited roles that we’ve often applied to downtowns.  Again, I don’t know exactly where it’s going yet, and I know it’s not going there fast.  So your comments are most welcome.

___

The Economics of the Situation

At its core, the kind of downtown I have been describing has an existence whose purpose is to capture disposable income.  It’s a place where the value that the place offers is dependent on its ability to offer novelty, to provide something that appeals to the consumer’s changing tastes and trends.  It’s a place marked by adependence on a narrow consumer niche, a narrow range of goods and services.  To borrow Nassim Taleb’s terminology, it’s fragile — lacking in options, short on Plan B strategies in the face of a Black Swan disruption. Easily broken. Lose your edge in that competition to Somewhere Else, for whatever reason, and you have nothing to fall back on.  There’s no other ecnomic game in that neighborhood.

 

We already went through this in many cities with the nightlife districts of the 1980s, such as the Flats in Cleveland or the Inner Harbor in Baltimore.  We can see now how that one-note tune doesn’t always age very well.

 

Don’t get me wrong. I love independent shops. Virtually every piece of jewelry I own (If you have met me, you know I have a vicious addiction) has come from an independent shop in some downtown in the US or elsewhere. Almost every painting or print or art glass or piece of ceramics in my house (same disease), plus a good deal of the furniture, same thing.  That dining and shopping for entertainment downtown thing I just disparaged? I do that All.The.Time. Did it this morning. It’s probably my only hobby. It’s the absolute only type of shopping that I will choose do.

 

But….

 

We have been leaning on our ability to grow a larger and larger collection of People Like Me.  And while the boutique economy definitely has a place in downtowns (and a place that’s I personally, selfishly want to have in downtown…)

 

I am getting the uneasy feeling that it’s not enough.

 

Needs versus wants

We have struggled for a couple of generations now with what downtowns mean, why they matter, why they are worth our investment and our attention in an auto-oriented, thousands of shopping options, buy it on the internet world.

 

The cold fact of the matter: while we may like downtown retailers, or restaurants, we don’t need them.  If our favorite coffee shop or craft store or high end shoe retailer closes up, we are not going to starve or go barefoot.  We’ll get what we need or want somewhere else–and if we don’t have that choice downtown, we have lots of other places today where we can meet those same basic needs.  We may not like them as much, relate emotionally as much, but we’re not going to starve or go barefoot.

 

This is the core economic shift, one that started with shopping malls and continues with Amazon, and it’s one that we have not yet fully figured out how to navigate.

 

Traditional downtowns were designed to be the place where we met both wants and basic needs. All those buildings stuck right next to each other grew up because we needed food, and shoes, and lodging, and entertainment, and places to talk with other people. Our great grandparents went downtown not because it was novel or interesting, but because that was where you got the stuff that you needed.  And if the shoe store didn’t have your size, or the dry goods store only carried a kind of soap that made you itch, you were more or less out of luck.  You had few other options.

 

As we discovered that we didn’t need those downtowns anymore — as our cities developed other options for selling people the goods and services that they needed– people had the ability to access new choices And most of them did exactly that.

 

Some of us like to tsk tsk and shake our heads and point our fingers at how foolish and short -sighted those people were, who gave up on their downtowns and moved to those tract houses and shopped in those souless shopping malls. But we can only do so because we weren’t there, or because time fuzzes up our memories. Our great grandparents wanted choices, more choices than they could have in their downtowns, with their one or two options. And especially after living through the privations of the Depression and World War II, with the country suddenly having choices again, we have to admit that we can empathize with how they felt.  And we as consumers have been enjoying ever-increasing choices ever since.

 

If a traditional commercial district’s primary economic niche today, is to provide a diversion, an escape, a mini-vacation for people in a certain segmente of the economy, the place may look good and generate good publicity for the community, and it will certainly generate some jobs and some revenue and some taxes.

 

But because it caters to a subset, and because it’s desirable to that subset but not essential to that subset (or anyone else), the traditional business district that fits that profile runs the risk of finding itself, sooner or later, back in the old fight for relevance that many of them thought they had won in the ‘90s.  When public budgets are shrinking, and demands on the nonprofit sector are exploding, and the very nature of what and how we buy everything from toothpaste to fine art is being subsumed into the Grand Shopping Mall of the World on the Internet…

 

Then making the public policy and state or municipal budget case for a part of the city that dominated by boutiques and interesting restaurants is not going to get any easier.

 

An interesting side element here: tax incentives for historic building rehabilitation and public or nonprofit funding of downtown programs were typically sold to politicians and the public,at least initially, as a way to fill a market gap, a way to get downtowns back to making substantial contributions to the community’s overall economy.  The promise was that filling the gap between what it costs to rehab a building and the value that an anti-downtown market would attach to it would give downtown businesses and building owners a chance to rebuild their piece of the local economy, to find a new economically-viable purpose and get back on their feet.

 

As I’ve written elsewhere, economic development incentives are typically assumed, at least in theory, to serve as a catalyst, a kick-start, a way to get over the initial market roadblocks facing a new idea and get on to fulfilling a place’s market potential. And as I’ll say below, I think there can be legitimate reasons for an incentive or public support to continue in perpetuity.  But the fact that we still need downtown programs, still need investment incentives, could be argued to indicate that we haven’t really made a dent in realizing most downtowns’ market potential.

 

The Economics of the Situation

At its core, the kind of downtown I have been describing has an existence whose purpose is to capture disposable income.  It’s a place where the value that the place offers is dependent on its ability to offer novelty, to provide something that appeals to the consumer’s changing tastes and trends.  It’s a place marked by adependence on a narrow consumer niche, a narrow range of goods and services.  To borrow Nassim Taleb’s terminology, it’s fragile — lacking in options, short on Plan B strategies in the face of a Black Swan disruption. Easily broken. Lose your edge in that competition to Somewhere Else, for whatever reason, and you have nothing to fall back on.  There’s no other ecnomic game in that neighborhood.

 

We already went through this in many cities with the nightlife districts of the 1980s, such as the Flats in Cleveland or the Inner Harbor in Baltimore.  We can see now how that one-note tune doesn’t always age very well.

 

Don’t get me wrong. I love independent shops. Virtually every piece of jewelry I own (If you have met me, you know I have a vicious addiction) has come from an independent shop in some downtown in the US or elsewhere. Almost every painting or print or art glass or piece of ceramics in my house (same disease), plus a good deal of the furniture, same thing.  That dining and shopping for entertainment downtown thing I just disparaged? I do that All.The.Time. Did it this morning. It’s probably my only hobby. It’s the absolute only type of shopping that I will choose do.

 

But….

 

We have been leaning on our ability to grow a larger and larger collection of People Like Me.  And while the boutique economy definitely has a place in downtowns (and a place that’s I personally, selfishly want to have in downtown…)

 

I am getting the uneasy feeling that it’s not enough.

 

Needs versus wants

We have struggled for a couple of generations now with what downtowns mean, why they matter, why they are worth our investment and our attention in an auto-oriented, thousands of shopping options, buy it on the internet world.

 

The cold fact of the matter: while we may like downtown retailers, or restaurants, we don’t need them.  If our favorite coffee shop or craft store or high end shoe retailer closes up, we are not going to starve or go barefoot.  We’ll get what we need or want somewhere else–and if we don’t have that choice downtown, we have lots of other places today where we can meet those same basic needs.  We may not like them as much, relate emotionally as much, but we’re not going to starve or go barefoot.

 

This is the core economic shift, one that started with shopping malls and continues with Amazon, and it’s one that we have not yet fully figured out how to navigate.

 

Traditional downtowns were designed to be the place where we met both wants and basic needs. All those buildings stuck right next to each other grew up because we needed food, and shoes, and lodging, and entertainment, and places to talk with other people. Our great grandparents went downtown not because it was novel or interesting, but because that was where you got the stuff that you needed.  And if the shoe store didn’t have your size, or the dry goods store only carried a kind of soap that made you itch, you were more or less out of luck.  You had few other options.

 

As we discovered that we didn’t need those downtowns anymore — as our cities developed other options for selling people the goods and services that they needed– people had the ability to access new choices And most of them did exactly that.

 

Some of us like to tsk tsk and shake our heads and point our fingers at how foolish and short -sighted those people were, who gave up on their downtowns and moved to those tract houses and shopped in those souless shopping malls. But we can only do so because we weren’t there, or because time fuzzes up our memories. Our great grandparents wanted choices, more choices than they could have in their downtowns, with their one or two options. And especially after living through the privations of the Depression and World War II, with the country suddenly having choices again, we have to admit that we can empathize with how they felt.  And we as consumers have been enjoying ever-increasing choices ever since.

 

If a traditional commercial district’s primary economic niche today, is to provide a diversion, an escape, a mini-vacation for people in a certain segmente of the economy, the place may look good and generate good publicity for the community, and it will certainly generate some jobs and some revenue and some taxes.

 

But because it caters to a subset, and because it’s desirable to that subset but not essential to that subset (or anyone else), the traditional business district that fits that profile runs the risk of finding itself, sooner or later, back in the old fight for relevance that many of them thought they had won in the ‘90s.  When public budgets are shrinking, and demands on the nonprofit sector are exploding, and the very nature of what and how we buy everything from toothpaste to fine art is being subsumed into the Grand Shopping Mall of the World on the Internet…

 

Then making the public policy and state or municipal budget case for a part of the city that dominated by boutiques and interesting restaurants is not going to get any easier.

 

An interesting side element here: tax incentives for historic building rehabilitation and public or nonprofit funding of downtown programs were typically sold to politicians and the public,at least initially, as a way to fill a market gap, a way to get downtowns back to making substantial contributions to the community’s overall economy.  The promise was that filling the gap between what it costs to rehab a building and the value that an anti-downtown market would attach to it would give downtown businesses and building owners a chance to rebuild their piece of the local economy, to find a new economically-viable purpose and get back on their feet.

 

As I’ve written elsewhere, economic development incentives are typically assumed, at least in theory, to serve as a catalyst, a kick-start, a way to get over the initial market roadblocks facing a new idea and get on to fulfilling a place’s market potential. And as I’ll say below, I think there can be legitimate reasons for an incentive or public support to continue in perpetuity.  But the fact that we still need downtown programs, still need investment incentives, could be argued to indicate that we haven’t really made a dent in realizing most downtowns’ market potential.

 

The Future of Old-Fashioned Downtowns: the public policy coal mine canary

This is the second part of…. well, I don’t know what it’s going to be, but something about downtown revitalization.  I posted the first part here, which kind of frames up the problem.  This part talks about what I’ve been seeing more specifically that’s starting to make me think we have a problem.  Your challenges, corrections and insights welcome.

What I’m Seeing: Public Policy as the Coal Mine Canary

 

This is what worries  me:  As I read and scan and talk to downtown colleagues nationwide, I’m seeing cities, both big and small, that fight internally, often over and over again, about whether the increasingly shrinking pot of money for making-the-community-better type projects should go to downtowns, or to other areas, which often claim (and often with a good deal of evidence behind them) that downtown investment only benefits Someone Else. In many cases, that Someone Else is richer, newer and sometimes differently-colored than the neighborhood. And downtown, it appears, is perceived as being mostly of benefit to Them.

 

The other thing I am seeing is that state programs that support downtown organizations, mostly by advising and training them and helping them connect to their peers in other downtowns, seem to find themselves with their heads on the political chopping block with depressing regularity.  Washington State recently became the most recent that I know of to write a draft budget that eliminates their Main Street program, a path that multiple states across the United States have at least taken a good hard look down over the past 15 years.  So this is not a new situation.

 

At the same times, states such as Ohio and North Carolina have looked at cutting, or cut, the tax credits that they have offered for historic preservation. My definitively non-scientific recollection has been that some state or the other has had to fight to maintain these programs pretty much every year for the last decade,or more — despite the fact that they can almost always point to great stories of landmark buildings rescued from being a blot on their communities, and all sorts of facts about jobs created and money invested of the type that politicians and advisors purportedly want to see.

 

(For those of you who are complete insiders on downtown issues, please realize that I’m trying to paint a picture of broad trends without writing War and Peace and losing everyone else. Every place, every fight, every story has its own details. They’re all special. I know that. That’s not my point here. Thanks.)

 

The macro-trend that I think I am picking up looks like this: Many downtowns are more vibrant and more interesting than they used to be, but, to a relatively large proportion of the people who are in charge at the city and larger level, those vibrant downtowns look like a happy piece of fluff: a positive and pleasant thing, but a luxury — a nice thing to have, but not a core need or something that the community cannot live without.  

 

I’m a diehard downtown advocate, but I’m also a practical person. And as I look at many of the downtowns that I encounter in my travels, I think I can understand what they are seeing, even if it’s not the whole story.

 

Too many downtowns, at least to the casual observer, look like entertainment districts for the relatively wealthy.  We’ve allowed a lot of downtowns to develop a one-dimensional, Flat Stanley economy: the place where all the hot new dining concepts land, and the one-of-a-kind homewares can be had, and where people still “shop” for recreation, the way kids of my generation would hang out in the mall and amuse themselves by spending money on sodas and CDs and maybe a pair of sunglasses.  Yes, we’ve helped many downtowns develop as places where people may now live in nice apartments, but the people who choose to live in them tell you that they moved there to be near the restaurants and the bars and the music and the cool little shops. Only later do they start complaining about the lack of stores that sell laundry detergent and paper towels.

 

The thing that concerns me is not that there are places where this exists. I want to shop and eat and live there, too.
What bothers me is that when our communities decide that this is enough.  When we decide that such a limited economic role for a downtown or commercial district is all we need, and when we focus on getting more and more of the same because it looks like it’s working.  We mean well, but when we do that, we are setting ourselves, our boutique owners, our restaurants and our residents up in a weak long-term position.

A new….something: The Future of Old-Fashioned Downtowns, Part 1

I have two books to get written, projects to do, audio to edit and a floor at the house that looks like the dog had a fur explosion.  So what do I do instead?  I start writing something completely unrelated to all of that. Genius.

At this point I don’t know what this is going to turn into.Right now it’s too long for a blog post, not long enough for a book.  But it seems to tie together several things I have been thinking about – downtowns, revitaliation and what hard work it is, simplistic solutions and their after-effects, small business and entrepreneurs and governement/ community organization policies and assumptions.  Urgh.

This is the first segment – I’ll post more of it tomorrow.  This part is simply attempting to identify the problem, so Spoiler Alert: no solutions provided.  Yet.  Hopefully we’ll get there. Thanks for going on the ride with me.  And I’ll look forward to your feedback.

We <3 Downtown

 

I’ve spent a lot of my adult life (and my childhood, come to think of it) dealing with the present and future of traditional downtowns and neighborhood commercial districts in the post-traditional downtown economy.

 

I’m not kidding. I’ve advised more downtowns than I can count.  I’ve served on boards and committees and task forces and written design guidelines and historic nominations and spoken at downtown conferences and written for downtown publications.  I’ve bought more stuff in downtowns than I would care to admit, I’ve gone out of my way to make downtown and independent purchases when somewhere else would have been more convenient for me, And I’ve done the obligatory Instagram post on Small Business Saturday from some charming boutique to remind whoever is bothering to look to go give some money to their local downtown and independent people.

 

Over the past few decades I’ve seen enthusiasm for traditional downtowns grow all over the country, and new restaurants and shops spring up in former department stores and livery barns, and new parks and sidewalks and farmers markeys and festivals take root, and town after town trumpet their downtown as their “identity” and a centerpiece of their great “quality of life.”  If you had asked me to make a prediction when I was in my first political fight for a historic preservation ordinance – or even earlier when I walked from my childhood home to the run down bookstore downtown on a block full of vacant storefronts and “SRO for Rent” signs – I don’t think I would have predicted that downtowns would become cool again.  But they did, and it’s right, and I’m incredibly glad they did.

 

But despite that happier picture, I’m seeing something in places across the nation that is starting to worry me. What I’m seeing seems to indicate that, perhaps, the things that I personally love about downtowns — the shops, the restaurants, the beauty, the fun — don’t give these places that I have valued so highly an important enough role in the economy and the life of our communities.

 

Here is my fear: we have allowed too many of our traditional downtowns to become extras, amenities, places of fun and entertainment, nice-to-haves.  And in an era of stiff competition for public and private money, and attention, and a time where we have totally disrupted our purchasing habits and given ourselves an explosion of options for buying and being entertained — and where many people’s incomes have stagnated and the demands on the money we have never let up, the nice-to-haves are the first things to go.

 

We who care so much about downtowns and neighborhood commercial districts and the like — we fought a long, often bruising battle over the last 40 years.  We fought to keep our downtowns, to prevent their demolition, to find some new purpose, any new purpose, that prevented them from falling to the bulldozer when suburbs and shopping centers had nearly made them irrelevant.  And even though we still fight demolitions, and we still have to convince individuals sometimes that a standing building is more valuable than a parking lot, you won’t find many people claiming that a downtown is obsolete and should be rebuilt in the model of a suburban shopping mall, as you often heard in the 1960s and 1970s — and in many places much later.

 

But too often, the public perception we’ve allowed to develop is of downtown as a land of fun —  an amusement center, a place that exists to separate people from their surplus disposable income.  When we accept and support that vision of downtown (even when we don’t say that out loud ourselves), we are consigning this incredibly rich and intricate collection of places and spaces and people to a certain level of irrelevance– the pleasantness but unnecessary-ness of the ruffle on the hem of the skirt.  You may prefer a skirt with a ruffle, but if you can’t find one, you can work with something else – and you can cut that ruffle off of the skirt if it becomes frayed or damaged.

More to come…

Field Notes: Downtown Project, Las Vegas

Note: for regular readers of the Wise Economy Workshop, the following is going to look like…

well, a rambling mess.  

The purpose of Field Notes is to be able to put out some early observations about a community or orgainzation that is doing something interesting and new in the world of community revitalization, but to do it at an early stage where you can be part of the conversation (and while I’m still at the point where I haven’t figured out what I’m saying yet…)

If your dedicated enough to find this and slog through it, you’re definitely someone whose opinion I want to hear.  I know you will probably have lots of unanswered questions, but…

  • what looks interesting or intriguing to you?
  • what sounds crazy?
  • what just plain ‘ole doesn’t make sense?
  • what else would you want to know?

These are always a little bit of an experiment, so who knows what will happen next.  But as you will be able to tell, I’ve been looking very closely at what the Downtown Project is doing, and there’s something — really, a lot of somethings — here that I think we could all learn some very valuable lessons from.  And I think they’re showing us a new way to do this work — one that probably makes more sense with the sea changes going on in the world than the way we have been approaching community revitailization.  But at this point, I am mostly checking my understanding and my early interpretations.

If you don’t know what I am talking about, you might start by browsing through http://downtownproject.com/

So, I’d love it if you’d leave your comments below.  If you want to say something to me that you don’t want to go all public, however, please feel free to send me an email at della.rucker@wiseeconomy.com.

Also, for truth in advertising, I made some revisions to this on March 21 – partly to make sure I caught some things from a conversation that I had neglected to include in the first version, and partly to include a few observations from a conversation I had after this was initially written…. well, perhaps I should say regurgitated.  And then I went back and tried to start organizing around some broad themes, which may have helped or may have made it more confusing to anyone not inside my head.  There’s still a pretty good mess going on here — I mean my writing, not the project.  

Per my usual habits, my commentary is in brackets [.]  Well, at least some of it, since this is partly notes on things people told me and partly my ruminations.  My old journalism professors would be unhappy.  But I dropped out of journalism school, so who cares…

Thanks.  You’re awesome.  Enjoy.

 

Field Notes From Downtown Project Las Vegas

 

Philosophy/Objectives

“we think of what we are doing here as increasing efficiency, productivity, happiness.”

There’s an emerging awareness: in larger companies, as you grow, how do you stay innovative?  One important way is to seek innovation from the outside. Emphasis on working with and integrating with a wide variety of people.  In a sense, vision is to apply that to a city.

[That certainly jives with the strategy I’ve seen Procter & Gamble and other big corps using.  But I think it’s critical not to forget how much that upends conventional bureaucracy and hierarchy — it’s been hard enough for companies to make that shift.  For community-based initiatives, with at least some who have interest in stability….interesting perspective to consider why this kind of collaboration becomes so hard]

Downtown Project is really a start up itself.  There was no way to really exactly know how to do this [that’s refreshing, given all the supposed experts who claim that they do!].  So the mandate was always Go, Go and Figure it Out — figure it out while you are doing it.  That implies an assumption of iteration, an expectation that some things will not work out as planned or outright fail.

 Goal of DP as articulated by city ED staff: try to get 10,000 additional people to live and work in downtown in the next 5 years. 

The concept of organizing around collisions takes what we have heard from people like Glaser and Jacobs to a new level. Instead of passively assuming that the power of a city is in some inherent, natural ability to foster connections, DTLV seems to be purposely designing the spaces and the experiences to generate interactions.  And I think it’s important that attention is being given to the physical spaces and to the events, like the Speaker’s Series.  A lot of downtown organizations do special events, but they’re usually designed to attract attention, not to build internal capacity/collisions.

Organization, strategy, culture

Observation of what’s unique about DP: “It’s not operating as a closed system.”

 

This basic decentralized model seems to drive the whole range of activities.  At least some of the space improvements have been driven by people—e.g., the dog park.  Process as described: someone says “we need X.”  Community, including Tech leadership, takes the fact that a person raised that idea as an indicator that it’s worth pursuing (a lot of trust in the people on the street!).  Person with idea is encouraged to go do it.  Person with idea gets as far as they can with it on their own resources, comes back to the DTLV organization when they have hit the limit of how far they can go and lays out what is needed to complete.  Then, only then, DTLV helps. As it was described to me: you get as far as you can with what you can muster and then get help to get over barriers… “I need a check for X in order for this thing that’s going to be good for the community to happen.”  People are expected, it seems to take the initiative to make the place better.  Italics are my emphasis.  People are expected to take the initiative!

 

Compare that to how communities usually do physical improvement projects….that’s a massive, revolutionary, almost inverted model compared to what we usually do.  It implies that the person on the street is just as likely to know the right answer as the leadership, and that’s a huge leap of faith. It implies that everyday people can and should take that initiative.  It implies that trying and risking failure is OK, and that a messy, maybe fumbling, maybe disorganized start as the people who want to do it try to figure it out, is OK.

 

Part of me thinks this should be applicable anywhere, but I also wonder a little bit what happens when you try a model like this in a more dense environment, where the experimenting and fumbling, at least with some activities, could have a much more direct impact on other people.  Part of what might make that a little easier here is that there is a lot of open space – vacant apartments to shoot the podcast in, vacant lots to figure out how to do a dog park without causing chaos for the house next door.

Tech funds select projects based on peer assessment of compatibility.  Firms being considered spend time with others who are already in the system so that its peers can determine whether the potential founder is “compatible.”  For the Tech Fund, that is putting a lot of faith in the feedback of people to whom your ties, at least conventionally, are relatively tenuous (of course they are getting funding from you…but a fund like this does not imply a long-term relationship.  It’s not like the conventional employee relationship).

There’s high emphasis on very intensive seeking of collisions. High emphasis on being engaged part of the community – for Tech Fund people, clearly being part of that community, but there seems to be an intent to at least blur those boundaries as much as possible.  I wonder how the social pressure to do that falls out – there’s clearly a strong internal set of norms around that.  How much do the people who are not funded by the Tech Fund or are not seeking funding buy into that?  The funding element definitely puts a different angle on it compared to the conventional community-building strategies.  It’s an intensification of the conventional culture building method.  Was that part of the intent?

Person from Tech Fund business said that funded businesses were not obligated to locate in DTLV, but that they did so from being convinced of the value of the environment and the network.  He described it as being a vision that was laid out to them that they decided that they wanted to be a part of.  It was an invitation, not a requirement.  If that’s true, that’s a powerful testimony.

At this point, about half of the companies in the ecosystem are not connected to the Tech Fund—they just came. Some are probably trying to get in position to get Tech Fund funding in the future, but some, like the woman working on the real estate thing, aren’t.  And I met at least a couple of guys who were sort of freelancers, who could live anywhere but chose to come here, even though they aren’t formally associated with one of the businesses.  That sounded like a very new development.  Is it just going where you think the jobs will be?  Is it some kind of cachet?  Or is it attracting the people who understand and want the environment that is being built?

Cultural difference implied by the hug vs the handshake…you never get hugged by a person you’ve just met back east.

Still amazing how strongly they cite the Speaker Series as this collision creator.  The new ideas cross fertilization.  Interesting that the low tech approach is so effective in this context.

Activities, Programs, Events

There is a lot going on here.  The sheer number of specific programs, initiatives, activities, going on far outstrips any other downtown I know of.  And if you look at it from the entry point of those activities, you see pretty quickly that they’re connected, aligned somehow, but they’re not coming from a central source.  Different things have different leaders and participants, not all of whom are formally obligated to be doing what they’re doing in the traditional sense (for example, the podcast).

“Companies” within the project [I’m not sure if they’re officially established as conventional separate corporations or if they’re sort of subsidiaries or departments]:

Gold Spike [former casino, gathering space and restaurant].

Bunk House [temporary visitor lodging; is this the upstairs of the Gold Spike?]

Mixed Use [I don’t know what this means in my notes]

Container Park

TechFund.

Also communication team — “People Ops” and construction management

Around this group — sort of the nucleus — are the companies that the TechFund etc. have invested in.   And there are an increasing number of new people coming in as well.

—-

Connecting to the rest of the city

There seems to be a priority on building that web of connections beyond the tech community.  Based on the information that goes out from the Ticker and the Downtownzen magazine, there’s a lot of performers and musicians and artists who seem to be pulling into this.

Note importance in approach of restaurants and coffee shops — building and engaging community.  Gives people a reason to come downtown.  Also note the fact that young families come downtown because of the Container Park — a “sea change” in how residents view Downtown!  [Note that this observation came from DTLV staff!]

Relationships with other parts of the Vegas community: Bridge-building with the arts community, which is about a mile away.  There was an initial sense of competition or overshadowing, but there’s been work on building bridges.  DTLV took over the First Friday event from the people operating it [not clear if that was a person or an organization] because they didn’t have capacity to keep it running.

It’s been easier for DTLV to connect to younger [assuming non-tech embedded] young people  “seems natural.”

As a whole, this is definitely a town that has come recently to a pretty sharp awareness of its own history.  There’s a marketing sensibility that perhaps people here might pick up on more intuitively, so perhaps it’s simply a matter of pragmatically realizing what they’ve got to work with.  But it seems like a very different sense of itself than during the era when things were imploded without concern.

Relationship with other organizations and government

Trying to convince the community that they are not taking over!  Hence shifting focus to connectedness and collisions, and away from “community.”  [They were hitting that old problem of everyone thinks they know what the “community” is and what the “community” needs, but they’re all actually looking at different communities within the space.]

Staff noted that people started coming to them “like we were government.” [Given pressures on the local government in recent years and the length of time where there’s been this lack of investment in the downtown area, that’s not surprising.  Happens a lot, even when it’s not widely know that an organization has money.] Staff noted that the City has been a great partner [not a funding partner, of course — no public funds in any of this.  Wonder how that changes the actual work and choices…].  City has been willing to learn and change.  When started the Container Park, zoning wasn’t anything near what was needed.  Worked through all the waivers and variances… joke was that is was “waiver world”  [The fact that a City was even willing to take this on, and didn’t just shut it down with no’s, says something very profound..]

City identifies its econ dev strategy as “young tech” firms — past the VC stage, in need of an environment where they can access talent [flexibly and efficiently]

City treats parking as an economic development service, not an a utility.  Effort to increase willing payers and decrease citations.  [interesting angle on it — not sure how /if it fits in with the rest, but interesting insight and a potential good idea for elsewhere.]

Emerging issues:

  • Lack of empty building inventory [especially building types that can be readily adapted to white collar tech].  Mostly not there, but City concerned with marking sure new development occurs at the right scale.
  • Current downtown-convenient housing = mostly “inner ring single family neighborhoods.” Conventional western city scale.  Much old [meaning, in that awkward age between not new and not old enough to be charming.  Also, since most of it is post-1930, my guess would be that quality of construction/materials may make revitalization harder.] Need for urban infill and rental at different price points.
  • Transit [discussed Cleveland BRT]
  • Higher education: UNLV not downtown, not dowtown higher education presence yet, UNLV “aspires” to be a Tier 1 research institution.

But what happens when the rest of the city catches on, when they want it to be “their” downtown too?  My guess would be right now that most City residents don’t go near downtown unless they work there.  Which is the case in lots of towns.  But is there a risk that this downtown approach makes downtown a district for one subset of the population — more like a district than the idealized downtown?  Certainly the Container Park sort of pushes against that with its inclusiveness of children, but what happens if you don’t look like the rest of the clientele?  Is a lower income African American family going to feel welcome going in there?

It’s not technically a public space.

But in a downtown that maybe hasn’t had that idealized “downtown” since before World War II, is that actually a loss?  Or is it a loss that anyone will care about?  Or is it just another piece of the mosaic, fitting one niche, like Eastern Avenue or Chinatown fit their niches?

There is a certain irony in the fact that the critical (and rather vacuous) general media coverage lately (the  Las Vegas Sun article and the  LA Times article) both cast everything in the same molds that I’ve heard in the Downtown PushMe-PullYou in I think every town I have ever encountered.  Everyone bemoans what poor shape downtown is in, New Guard comes in and starts making change, old-timers protest about being pushed out.  New Guard is the hero of one side and the demon of the other.  It’s Cincinnati’s Over the Rhine, Cleveland’s Euclid corridor, Pittsburgh’s south side, Chicago, Louisville, Boston, etc. etc. etc. over again.  In terms of the complaints in the articles, they could have been talking about 3CDC, or the Gateway, or any of a thousand other urban revitalization projects in a hundred cities.

The really strange thing here is that the coverage to date (at least those two articles) has been so intensively personality-driven – completely insisting on a Puppeteer somehow pulling every string.  Usually the spin is that there’s some cabal of somewhat shadowy figures who are supposedly pulling all the strings.  But it doesn’t take long, actually paying attention to what’s going on on the ground in DTLV, for that story line to come apart.  This is the most non-Big Money Guy Forcing Everyone To Do What He Wants revitalization in a city of this size that I have ever seen.  The level of decentralization – the acting out of, really, the basic principles of holocracy in a community environment – that I think is what actually sets this apart.  For DTLV, money buys speed of change,  but not all that much control.  Compare that to most places – most efforts spend the bulk of their money on controlling and molding the environment into what they want. Midtown Detroit is probably Exhibit A.  There is stunningly little master-planned activity, seemingly of any type, going on in DTLV.

What is going to mean to the regular (non Zappos) residents?  Does it remain just a little foreign thing that they’ve heard about?  Does it change the perception of career choices for kids?

As a whole, this is definitely a town that has come recently to a pretty sharp awareness of its own history.  There’s a marketing sensibility that perhaps people here might pick up on more intuitively, so perhaps it’s simply a matter of pragmatically realizing what they’ve got to work with.  But it seems like a very different sense of itself than during the era when things were imploded without concern.

The big question for Hsieh himself, I think, is what’s going to happen when he finds himself in Gilbert’s shoes.  There’s no one else in this town to do that — not the Wynns or any other old guard—there’s been a definite community leadership vacuum, and Hsieh is about to find himself thrust into that whether he’s ready or not.  Gilbert in Detroit took that on willingly – he was ready to step into the void, probably because he was tired of the downward spiral and had the conventional CEO type mind set of making it happen.  I think there’s a very different model between these two.  And Hsieh is clearly more at the beginning phases, and in some respects working in a less ossified, less clearly formed environment.  But there will be a cry out here for broader help – so much vacancy, so little educational attainment, etc.  It already appears to be happening around broader downtown things – the water fountain story being a key example.  At least that part of the community has moved to that phase pretty fast.    What happens when he gets dragged into a citywide initiative?

His little bet, light-touch, community-led and community-enabling strategy might work.  It will probably not look real glossy, but it might work.

Physical Spaces

The treatment of physical spaces is fascinating to me.  All kinds of space treatments, from the offices to the Container Park, generally treated very flexibly, temporary, inexpensively.  There is an implied expectation of flux.  Emphasis seems to be on use and repurposing of temporary spaces – intentional design and construction of Container Park, description of how space is allocated for the Tech Fund businesses, Use and relatively minimal changes to buildings with a different past.  The Gold Spike is fascinating on that point.  It’s cleaned up, but it hasn’t been massively reworked. They didn’t even take down the “Casino” part of the sign, even though there’s no casino activity anymore.  I don’t know if that’s coming from a preservation ethic – I think it’s a very pragmatic, tactical approach to using what’s available, what you can get your hands on and rework quickly.  Remnants of the past remain because there’s no compelling reason to remove them, I guess.

Part of the reason this is happening in Vegas is probably because you can do it so damn cheap.  And cheap, adapted, small, flexible…

Is it because it’s cheap, or because it can be done quickly?

Is the Ogden, Container Park, Gold Spike etc. more about the time value of showing progress, rather than making showplaces?  $350 Mil could build a pretty decent-looking building….

Is rough around the edges, adapted, temporary, small… about facilitating innovation, about not allowing things to get stuck in stone? About maintaining the ability to shift?

Temporary in this context doesn’t mean short-lived.  It means stepping stone.

Pragmatically, I think the provision of little spaces is more critical.  My guess is that the “small” spaces in Ogden are a lot bigger than the ArtBOX half a container.  But that tiny little space, allowing 31 (!) artists to make at least part of a living…that’s a huge impact.  And the fact that they had nowhere else to sell before indicates what a game-changer that is.

Perhaps this is the challenge to city planners: the space isn’t in itself the thing that matters.  The think that matters is how the space enables the people.  Dammit, I’m spouting PPS’s line again.  🙂

In both planning and ED, physical building becomes less and less important (and this at a time when we have so massively overbuilt…).  Flexibility becomes even more so.  And connecting people, enabling collisions, building intellectual capacity seems to become most.  Maybe that’s the real paradigm shift.

Relationship to Vegas reputation/cachet

The placement of this connection/collision-focused model in the context of a place whose reputation is built around the relatively anonymous good time…that’s an interesting contrast.  Impact of Gold Spike –even before I knew that it was actually owned by the Downtown Project, I noticed pretty quickly that it’s the only public space around without slot machines.  Note that D said that the reason isn’t anything against gambling, it’s a desire to preference conversation and interaction.  Which is interesting given that this is a generation for whom video gaming is a fact of life (and Dave thought Caesars reminded him more of Dave & Busters than anything else…or maybe I said that…).  But I’ve also noted with my kids that a large part of video gaming is an intensely social activity.    That’s a sea change, probably even from when we were kids, and it may explain the lack of interest in slot machines.

Do the tech people even play the in person games, or does the social structure frown on that?  Do you lose “Trust points” if someone sees you in a casino?  Keep in mind that a lot of these people are living on Tech Fund money, and that would be seen as frivolous and certainly wasteful or irresponsible. At what point do people start realizing how much potential energy, funding etc. the whole gaming entertainment thing siphons away.  Probably not because right now they are using this environment’s underused resources but drawing markets and talent from other places.

 

My Other Assorted Rambling Observations

Part of the challenge here is that the folks most closely associated with the Downtown Project are all newcomers.  That may be less of an issue overall in a western city, which has had so many newcomers over the past few years (in an eastern city it would have probably been hard to get this level of traction at all in the face of the often inherent distrust of outsiders).  But one of the other trends that I have been noticing in Vegas is that there is at least a subsection of the community (largely outside of DTLV) that is clearly thinking a lot more and a lot harder about the city’s history, its heritage, its meaning and their relationship to it, than probably would have been the case 30 years ago.  The guy I met at the Mormon Fort site who was telling about how they would come to that hill from the city as a kid… I bet there were few people who were at the age to reminisce like that and had been in the city long enough to have that length of memory 20 or 30 years ago.  Post-2008 Vegas seems to have a much different relationship to its past, more of a sense of self-identity based on its heritage.  So perhaps the city as a whole is starting to develop that characteristic of older cities that we see in lots of eastern revitalization efforts: people who have a long-time stake in the place, who do not relate to change easily because they have internalized something of the place that you’re proposing to change.  God knows that’s a tough challenge… and probably more so in a place where the very act of claiming that heritage, instead of acting sheepish about it or imploding it, has to still feel unfamiliar.

The conventional media is clearly still trying to fit this into the conventional Great Man/Big Money storyline.  And that’s really getting under my skin because there’s clearly so much more going on here.  The tech money is definitely a driver, but it’s a feeder, not leader. There is something profoundly different in how this is being organized, led (or not led), managed, than the kinds of downtown initiatives I have seen over and over again.  I found this insight from a Tech Fund entrepreneur pretty revelatory: the Tech funds select projects based on peer assessment of compatibility.  Firms being considered spend time with others who are already in the system so that its peers can determine whether the potential founder is “compatible.”  For the Tech Fund, that is putting a lot of faith in the feedback of people to whom your ties, at least conventionally, are relatively tenuous (of course they are getting funding from you…but a fund like this does not imply a long-term relationship.  It’s not like the conventional employee relationship).  What is the benefit to the tech fund members?  They clearly take this job seriously – it’s part of the value of the environment and the collisions, I guess.

 

What the hell are they trying to do here anyways? Build a tech-talent-attracting magnet?  Test out the business organization ideas on building a community?

 

It seems like there is some synergy developing between the creatives and the tech folks, and that’s probably not surprising.  Ticketcake would be most tied into that of the startups, but Life is Beautiful and etc. are probably part of that too.  LIB isn’t directly connected but clearly allied.  And both tech and artists are all kind of startups, so there is probably at least some sense of kindred spirits.

I think the story from the Tech Fund veteran contains an important kernel of wisdom: he referenced the need for a champion — someone who makes you feel like it’s possible, reinforces, encourages, promises to have your back as you go out and try something.  But then you realize that you didn’t really need that support, that you can do it yourself.  That’s potentially very powerful.  It’s almost an inversion of how we have conventionally handled city leadership and community revitalization.

Is there any connection between this and the educational systems yet?  What potential is there to start growing local talent — especially when so much of the talent that is there holds, in some sense, to the idea of being from a Place so lightly?  They are all from Somewhere Else, and they seem to take the ability to move easily from one town to another for granted.  Is the community they are building among themselves enough to keep them here if something falls down?

Important parts:

Building trust in members -holacracy model

Highly flexible strategy

Catalyst, rather than seed funding (or do-it-all funding)

Small flexible modular scalable spaces

Temporary as stepping stone

Collisions

Role of leader-encourage enabler.  A little wizard behind the curtain (Oz) in the good way.  You could do it all along

Conscious building of cultural norms

Culture of organization as a niche

Pragmatic approach to using what’s available-money and time.  Existing allows fast adaptation.  Avoid getting stuck.

 

 

Selections From new Book: Why This Work Matters

I’m so, so delighted to be able to start sharing with you a few selections from the upcoming Wise Fool Press book, Why This Work Matters.  This book contains 11 essays from community professionals from all over the country, telling us in their own heartfelt words how they maintain the courage and the determination to do the work they do… and how they keep at it when things go badly.

This selection is from a consummate downtown professional, Jennifer Kime of Downtown Mansfield, Ohio.  I asked Jennifer to contribute because I knew she would write something amazing and beautiful.  And she did.

Why this Work Matters will be launching soon.  In the meantime, keep it tuned here for more updates on the book and a few more selections from some of the essays.

Thanks.  Here’s Jen:

If I made widgets, I could tell you exactly what my production has been in the last six months; including profit margins and every economic indicator you could ask for. But economic development and building community is a messy job.  The victories are slow, and most often don’t occur for years.  There are no grand award ceremonies for us, rewarding us for the best sense of community created.  The value of the work is in the giving, and the reward is creating community pride.

I was raised at the mall. Seriously. My mom would drop me off with my friends and we would hang out all day at Little Caesars, the record shop and the Limited.  Those stores were our gathering place.

I’d hear stories, though, of a community where my parents grew up. A place that was authentic and safe, where children would walk to school and stop at the shops on the way home.  The business owners were friends and family and even neighbors.

That didn’t make much sense to me.  No one knew who owned or even managed the Little Caesars, even though I spent an embarrassingly large portion of my time there.  We were friends with the breadstick boy, but that was just good sense.

It took a move to Chicago, where I managed a flower shop in the Printer’s Row neighborhood, to really understand community.  The business owners were friendly, the restaurant managers knew each other, and they all knew I was “from the neighborhood.”

If I’m being honest, it was kind of uncomfortable at first.  I wasn’t from Chicago and I didn’t even know these people.  But the owner of the deli knew that I loved the Italian sub, no onion, and we all knew that the coffee shop barrista was moving to London and we sent her flowers.

Mansfield’s downtown was well on its way to revitalization before I came around, but I plugged myself in — with overconfidence in my education and travels and self-assured problem solving skills.  I applied the equations and formulas that I had learned and observed.  Progress was made and I was feeling pretty good those first couple of years.  Our achievements were measurable and I kept a running tally to show exactly what had been accomplished.

That’s where it gets messy.….

How people feel about a place goes in cycles.  a community’s pride or self deprecation can be charted, I’m sure of it.  

Here’s how that cycle goes.  First, something changes and everyone feels good.  A unique new business opens and the community wraps around it and takes a little piece of it as their own source of pride.  But a month later, when an older business closes, the public begins the rhetoric: “

Someone needs to do Something about this town…”  

That continues for a while, until the next big event where thousands gather and the moms and kids chat endlessly about how fun it was to be downtown. Pride is temporarily restored….

When I got into this work, I didn’t know how messy it would be.  Especially coming from finance where there is a right, a wrong and an end to each column.

But I did come to the work with a vision that I continue to hold all these years later.  It’s not a particularly specific vision, it’s not complete and it’s not particularly pretty either. My vision of where we are going doesn’t look like a new outdoor mall, or the past, or even what I’ve seen in other communities.

My vision looks like a unique place where people who live in the community feel a bit of ownership.  That’s the difference that I see most strikingly between communities that are dying and communities that are fighting this great revitalization challenge.  The key element is developing ownership, and it’s best measured by listening to people talk about a place.

It’s the stark difference between, “they need to do something about that park” and “have you been to our new coffee shop?” And that’s my single most motivating factor in the work I do…..

Making a difference in a community is really about building ownership.  My most valuable work is not only in re-creating ownership where it has been lost, but also growing it in the younger generations.  When I see children wanting to be here, I get a sense of relief:

Someday they won’t have to worry about “someone to fix things” because they will be fixing them themselves.  Then, perhaps, I can go back to finance, or maybe I’ll finally make some widgets…

 

 

Funding improvements – another reason to look under every rock.

From the Downtown Idea Reporter — sorry,  I don’t have the full story, but the following bit  is intriguing.  Who knew that the USDA would help fund a downtown parking lot?  Of course there are a lot of conditions, depending on which USDA grant they used.  But a sign again that there are often more options that we might think at first.   

BID spearheads parking lot improvement project, cuts
Borough’s costs by almost 50 percent
============================================
The Washington Business Improvement District (WBID) in
Washington, NJ, shows a downtown group repositioning itself
for future growth by taking on new financial activities.

The WBID received approval for a USDA-backed loan that
will allow it to begin much-needed improvements to a
municipal parking lot.

What’s especially remarkable is how much money the
WBIDs taking the lead on the project will save taxpayers –
almost 50 percent of the borough’s original $1.2 million
estimate.