For the sake of a buck, Norway swallows its pride

NORWAY – Perhaps, Hamlet said it best.

In every production of Shakespeare’s famous play, the young prince of Denmark cuts the rhetorical legs from beneath Polonius, his country’s chief administrator, when he turns to the old man and heaves with a breathless sigh, “Words, words, words.”

In the play, Hamlet’s kingdom is at war with the country of Norway.  And, at a special town meeting held January 13, it almost appeared as if our local Norway was at war with itself.

What separated Norway’s citizens from their municipal officers was precisely the same thing that caused so much tension in Hamlet’s time.

Words.

In this case, the particular words in question were “slum” and “blighted.”

To administrators like Norway’s five selectmen, Town Manager David Holt, EnterpriseMaine CEO Brett Doney, and community development director Debbie Wyman, these words carried no particular meaning beyond their use as fundraising tools.  By designating a portion of Norway’s downtown area as “slum and blighted,” both the town and the Oxford Hills Growth Council would become eligible to apply for Community Development Block Grants (CDBG.)

But to a good portion of the 39 local residents who turned out in freezing rain for the meeting, “slum and blight” were painful, hurtful words that seemed to describe not just a few vacant buildings, but their identity as individuals and their character as a community.

Holt became cognizant of citizen reaction almost as soon as a map of the area to be addressed was released.  Selectmen approved the map at their meeting of Thursday, January 6, and by Monday Holt was already getting an earful.  “Three or four” residents contacted Holt personally, and each one referenced “several others” said to feel the same way.

These local citizens, only some of whom actually lived in the area to be termed a slum, were reportedly incensed that Norway might be saddled with such a derogatory description. 

“I really feel badly about the original map that I distributed,” Holt told the special town meeting assemblage. 

That first map had the blighted area extending east along Main Street to where the Pennesseewassee Stream crosses near Tannery Street.  It then followed the Pennesseewassee Stream, bordering on Greenleaf Avenue, Orchard Street, and Pikes Hill before ending at the intersection of Water Street and Main Street

“We’ve used that [slum and blight label] as a tool before,” said Holt, who noted that the grant money to renovate both the Fair Share Commons building and the downtown parking lot had been made possible by first assigning to them such a designation.  The former C. B. Cummings mill complex also had been labeled blighted last year when its first CDBG grant was applied for.

“Because I am somewhat hardened to this — I’ve been doing it for 30 years — I was guilty of being insensitive,” continued Holt. “Because, to me, it’s just a tool to get the money that we want.  And after I listened to people tell me how they felt about it, I realized that I had been insensitive.

“I’m really sorry for that,” Holt said.  “I can’t take it back.  I did it. But as soon as I realized what I did, I tried to correct it.”

Holt began a public hearing on the subject, which preceded the special town meeting, by announcing that he would offer an amendment to truncate that area the town would be seeking to call ”slum and blighted.”

The triangle of Main Street, Water Street and Pikes Hill would remain, he said.  However, the section along Main Street would be cut nearly in half, now ending at the empty Aubuchon Hardware building.  With this change, areas around Greenleaf Avenue, and behind King Street and Oak Street, would be removed from consideration.

Holt offered his hope that this would placate those who were upset over the terminology, while still leaving enough of the downtown area tied to the Cummings mill redevelopment project to assure a reasonable chance of being approved for CDBG funding.

For those working on the mill project, including officials from both the town and the Growth Council of Oxford Hills — of which EnterpriseMaine is a division — this was where the matter hinged.  Last year, the town had submitted a CDBG application to rehabilitate the mill.  That grant was subsequently turned down, costing the project a potential $400,000. 

Criticism of the application from the Maine Office of Community and Economic Development indicated that the mill had not been clearly enough tied to the downtown area, which is supposed to be the focus of CDBG expenditures. 

“We were, like, half a point away from getting funded,” said Doney, at Thursday’s meeting. 

Community leaders then decided that the solution to this problem, when reapplying for CDBG funds this year, would to extend the area termed slum and blighted from the mill onto Main Street and the surrounding neighborhoods.  Holt described the slum and blighted designation as a “threshold criteria” to even applying for CDBG funds.

Holt further noted that the application of “slum and blighted” to an area is something that only a legislative body — in Norway’s case, a town meeting — can do.  Selectmen do not have that authority. 

However, he cautioned, should voters elect to not enlarge the slum and blighted area, neither the town’s $500,000 grant application, nor a similar $250,000 request from the Growth Council, would be submitted.

“Lots of times, it’s the governmental requirements, as you all know, that make it necessary to do things that a private person wouldn’t normally do,” said Holt.  “I didn’t make the federal rules.  People like me have to play by them however.  I can’t defend to you the wording.”

However, this rational did not seem to register with many of those present.  Most still took umbrage with the language in the warrant article on which they were to vote.   Taken from federal definitions of “slum and blighted,” their affirmative vote would declare the south side of Main Street, along with all areas inside the mapped out zone, to be “. . . a serious and growing menace, injurious and inimical to the public health, safety, morals and welfare of the residents of the Town of Norway.”

After Doney concluded a presentation on plans for the mill site, including how the town would come up with its required 20 percent matching funds, and how the grant money would be spent if awarded, Maurine Birtic was the first to speak.  In praising plans for the mill, Birtic echoed what seemed to be the nearly unanimous thoughts of the crowd.  But, like many gathered, she also questioned the price to be paid.

“For the public records to say that this [downtown] is a dilapidated slum, is this cost worth it?” she asked.  “That’s pretty strong language.”

“I work on Main Street, Norway,” agreed one young man in the audience,  “I don’t see anywhere that’s a ‘serious growing menace.’”

“As far as I am concerned, there is no slum in Norway,” said another, older, gentleman.  

Concerns over calling their town a “slum” was something that did not appear to be restricted along age lines.

“I realize that these are federal guidelines,” said Shelly Cummings, whose husband, Steve, was part of the last generation to own and operate the 150-year old mill, “but we, as citizens, where is the line that we are going to draw that is going to say what are willing to do, what hoops are we willing to jump through, what designations are we willing to change, in order to receive grant money. 

“Are we willing to degrade ourselves, and degrade our community, in order to receive grant funds?” asked Cummings.  “I absolutely applaud the [redevelopment] plans, I would love to see them, but isn’t there a better way than selling our souls?”

Many voters, increasingly uncomfortable with the warrant’s terminology, suggested alternatives, such as assigning the slum and blight label only to those buildings that all could agree were actually dilapidated.  However, municipal officers tried to make clear that the designation applied to a geographic area, and not individual properties.  Others suggested leaving the area intact, but removing some of the harshest language, such as the references to the neighborhood being “injurious [to] . . . morals.”  But as selectmen again tried to clarify, not all, or even any, of the buildings necessarily needed to meet every single criteria listed in the federal definition of blighted.

“The area can have that classification to satisfy a bureaucrat in Washington,” said Selectman Robert Walker, “that doesn’t mean the whole area is.”

“Back in the early ‘60s was when the federal government assigned three different categories for grants,” said Wyman.

She then detailed the three levels as  “low and moderate income”, which is applied to housing; “urgent need”, for which a “serious health problem” must exist; and “slum and blighted.” 

“We can’t get rid of that term,” said Wyman.  “David [Holt] and I have been doing this for at least 20 years, and slum/blight has always just been, like two words, and it doesn’t really mean anything.  It’s just a word that the federal government came up with.  And they need to change it, not us. 

“We’re not designating this area like, ‘Oh my God, it’s terribly deteriorated and a slum, awful place,’” said Wyman.  “It’s just [that] the government says that’s the category we can get the money under, that’s all. 

“Personally, I think we are making too much out of that one word,” she concluded.

But voters were clear that, to them, any word used to describe their neighborhood was not “just a word.”  And, as some noted, considerations included not just their pride, but also their pocket books.

“Is it in some respects shooting ourselves in the foot?” asked Birtic.  “My concern would be, ‘Gee, this looks like a really nice area, but how will I get financing because of the bad designation.’  Would you invest in a property in an area with that designation?”

“There’s not a big sign going up,” noted Leslie C. Flanders, Chairman of the Board of Selectmen, with a shake of the head.

“It [the slum designation] is not something that’s in the deed to the property,” agreed Doney.  “It’ll be in the papers for a few weeks, then forgotten.” 

Doney also noted that the slum and blighted designation had never been lifted from the old Hamilton Block once it had been rehabilitated as the Fare Share Commons.  The reason, Doney said, was that once necessary funding had been secured, and the property had been upgraded, no one “even remembers” that the area had once been called blighted.

Holt also tried to reassure citizens that, should they vote to accept the slum and blighted designation, it should not serve to devalue their property.

“That is just the federal wording,” said Holt.  “I can’t tell you anyone ever paid a consequence for the designation.  I don’t think it devalues your property, [even though] I understand it hurts your feelings.”

“There are ramifications of the designation,” interjected Paul Brook, owner of Woodman’s, on Main Street.  “One of these is it gives municipalities added ease in taking over properties through eminent domain, if they think it’s going to benefit the town.  That’s the first thing that scared me to death when I read this.  What other ramifications are there that we don’t know about?” 

“We have a plan here and nowhere in this plan does it say anything about taking over any property,” answered Flanders.

“But it could happen.  Can you tell me it couldn’t?” Brook shot back.

“I’ve worked here 16 years and we’ve never taken over a property by eminent domain,” replied Holt.

Holt also noted that he had “refused” to work on a concept recently floated that would have called for the town to take over Woodman’s so that it could build a parking lot for the opera house.

Still, for some residents, such as Cherrie Bonney, the real concern was that an area would be designated as a slum in order to rehabilitate the mill complex, while nothing was planned to address certain buildings in the blighted area that more clearly met the definition under consideration.

“To my mind, a lot of it is much more offensive than the C. B. Cummings property,” she said.  “I have a real problem driving up Main Street and seeing so many businesses closed.  Empty.  And we’re talking about the C. B. Cummings project as maybe a way to turn all of this around, but shouldn’t we turn around Main Street first and then deal with this problem?  

“How are we really benefiting from the C. B. Cummings project if all of Main Street is still going to be empty and the end of Water Street is still going to be a dump?” demanded Bonney.

This brought a rustling from the crowd, and a few tentative handclaps.  However, perhaps uncertain if cheering Bonney would be disrespectful to town fathers, commotion quickly died down to a polite decorum.

“In the early days, C. B. Cummings helped create Main Street,” Holt answered, after reassuring voters that they should feel free to applaud if they felt the urge. 

“The people that worked there and owned the place would go onto Main Street and do business and buy lunch.  And so there's always been, in my opinion, and interrelationship,” continued Holt.  “I quite honestly, given what I suspect is going to keep happening on [Route] 26, don’t know a lot of good answers.    I have a couple of ideas about how we can address it.  [The] C. B. Cummings [project] is one of them.”

“I don’t like the slum and blighted [option],” said Flanders. “I wish there was some other way we could raise the money.  We’ve worked for over a year now to try and come up with a plan to improve Main Street and to bring [the] C. B. Cummings property back as a taxpayer for the town. 

“If we don’t do something, and Main Street dies, it doesn’t make any difference about the houses on Water Street, or Orchard Street, or anywhere else,” said Flanders.  “I see this as the only hope for the whole area.“

Birtic, who had been given the opportunity to ask the first question, was also allowed to pose the last.

“Are there any other options to getting funds?” she asked with a resigned air.

“I can assure you, we’re leaving no rock unturned in looking for options, and this is the only one that we’ve identified so far,” answered Doney.

In what appeared an attempt to save some face for the town, Cummings offered an amendment calling for the immediate lifting of the slum and blighted designation should the town not be awarded the CDBG funding.  Only one person voted against that motion.

And with that, the question was called with a show of hands.  The final vote was 19 to 13 in favor of labeling the newly mapped out area as “slum and blighted.”

With the meeting over, echoing voices trailed from the foyer into the evening beyond, and only Holt remained to shut the lights in the silent public hall.  He took advantage of the quiet moment to reflect on what had been a “spirited” event.

He would never have sought to create controversy on purpose, said Holt, but he could not help but wonder if the debate had not done some good.  Very rarely are there many residents at selectmen’s meetings.  And even town meetings, especially special town meetings held in poor weather, are scantly attended, he said. 

Holt was glad that people had come out to voice their opinions.  It makes a difference.  A town manager cannot live in a bubble, he indicated.  Any town administrator has to know what the people are feeling, what they are thinking — what they know, and what they want.

“If I’m still here months or years from now, I won’t forget,” said Holt, referring to the many points citizens had raised during nearly two hours of open discussion.

“In the end, I care a lot more about the [public] participation than any of these buildings,” said Holt, “because that’s really what’s in jeopardy.”