Tomorrow is the first day of winter. I am reminded of that as I walk the sidewalks covered with newly fallen snow. My footprints and those of an occasional animal are the only ones I see by the dimly lit street lights. What am I doing down here? Walking towards the river passing frozen yard with the remnants of dismantled homes, garages and fences. I wonder if this is what it might be like to talk through Chernobyl in December. A ghost town of sorts with but a few homes that have lights on. It is not so bitter cold this evening. I see my breath but somehow the air gives me energy. Physical fitness is not on my list of things I do on a daily basis. So why am I now climbing up the incline to the top of the trail that follows the Cedar River? It is like a pilgrimage to a sacred place from the past. The river is quiet tonight almost in a winter sleep. Ahead of me is the railroad bridge built in 1898. The iron and rivets discolored by over a hundred years in the elements as it stretched across the Cedar grasping the other bank, that precious east bank……and Quaker Oats. I have looked at this factory a multitude of times in my life. I am absolutely amazed by the size of it. The lights from it reflected in the river like millions of diamonds thrown into the water. There are sounds and smells that fill the air but it is hardly noticed because it is part of life along the river.
I look back over my shoulder at the area once was filled with families and homes which were a part of the Time Check and Northwest neighborhoods. The snow adds light to this scene as I see block after block of what one would guess was some kind of terrible destruction leaving only sparse survivors among the vacant lots. Their guess would be correct. The destruction of nature was one event but the soft winter scene does not reveal that the real destruction was that of economic cleansing. What a distasteful expression. I want it to be. People need to know that sometimes our government does not always handle things in a manner which is easy to stomach. Such is the case where I stand. I can imagine that over the past decades hundreds even thousands of people crossed over this bridge and other structures no longer here. Walking back and forth to work each and every day. The images clearly in my mind of those blue collar workers putting in long hours at Quaker, Penick, Chicago Northwestern, Cargill, Wilsons, Link Belt and others. Supporting their families and their city. Marching off to WWI, WWII, Korea, Vietnam, Persian Gulf…..standing up for what they believed in to protect their country. When the men went to war the women went to work to support the country who needed factory workers. So what did this city do for your children and grandchildren? They used a disaster to make plans to “revitalize your neighborhoods” by eliminating what they felt was negative areas and replace them with more palatable parks, fields, upscale housing and high rise buildings that would reflect prosperity and wealth. The people along this river were disposable. Use the flood to make this grandiose urban renewal goal happen. “Those people” will find other places to live. Yes, I think it was about week two after the flood we went from being flood victims to “those people”.
I am beginning to shiver as the winds pick up and blow from the north. Time to head back to my home. I turn one more time to look at the river and the bridge. Shadows dance across the iron framework. I swear I can see men walking single file along that bridge and across the road. one shadow lingers and it is almost as if it appears to wave good-bye to me. Yes, I understand. It is good-bye. There is no going back to those generations of people who were the backbone of this city. It is as if they survived wars and a depression and personal sacrifices to be silenced by Riverfront Revitalization. I vow as I hurry along the roadway maybe they are not silenced quite yet.
