It's four in the morning. I've been reading information on line about city development. I can see all the wonderful ideas stretched out before me like so many lanes of highway dwindling in the distance to no where.
For as many years as I can remember we have discussed, cussed and bemoaned the fate of out fair city and why it, "no can move!"
I recently attended one of those meetings at which a lot of well meaning and really nice people met to talk, (some more) about what the future down town Topeka ought to look like when the our own, "I have a Dream," for downtown Topeka finally comes to pass.
What was disturbing was the kindness and in some sense complete trust some people seemed to show in the responsible and benevolent guidance that is often proffered up by the powers that be here in the capital city.
For so many years the residents of Topeka's other "not so spiffy," neighborhoods have been subjected to the realities of belonging to the underclass that comes with being part of a city with no sense of unity. Unfortunately that underclass, as it is in so many small towns is most all of us who earn less (and can't afford a country club membership) than the required minimum.
As much as I like my little town and many of the kind, generous people who live in it, I find I still feel that there is a class division that has existed here since I can remember and still does. It's as though there is still a "landed gentry," type of aristocracy here in Topeka. Unfortunately, many of those same class members do not have the grace, goodness or even the common sense to know what things really give a city it's heart and soul. Money, (there's that word,) seems to be the prime motivator for a good deal of those people.
From the dirty days of Urban Renewal, (Negro Removal,) as Mom called it,
to current plans to revitalize this or that, there's still no transparency and not much compassion. But we do have a healthy appreciation for what makes, "Dis ole world go roun!" Cash Money!
Tales of property taken by force and fraud still circulate in the African American community. Certain business people casting a dark shadow over minority business's and lands. "Your going to sell me this property, or there could be a fire," I hear tell was heard by more then one minority business owner not too long before the "Negro Removal," government programs began to buy up land in the bottoms for that new super highway that cut right through the heart of "Mud Town." You can guess what folks lived there! Oh, did I forget to mention that I later heard tell of three other alternate routes for said highway, (one being an existing right of way already owned by the city) that were little discussed or considered. Of course we understand back in those dark days, minorities were not really people. Hell, Native Americans were considered little more than ignorant children, fit for little more that to be shipped off to "Indian schools," in the hopes that they might learn enough of the White Mans ways to at least fend for them selves and not be a burden on "God Fearing," white folks. It must have been grand to be a part of that exclusive class who helped to lay waste to our tiny town and a nation.
For what all it may count, all those who for so long yearned and ached to belong to that group of those "Oh so fortunate," few, twas' still an elusive dream. Those who ran the city, owned the shops and business's and generally determined the course that many lives beyond their purview must take left it to others as they passed on, (and passed the torch,) to those whose world view was like their own, impeccable and wrapped tight with the flag and privilege .
So here we find ourselves today, looking to make our lives a little more palatable. with the help of a new downtown facade and some more money to be spent on studies and reports. As usual, those with the money, the control and the thirst, (and might I add the ability to smell money like a dog smells rotted meat,) are still in there plugging away to make sure that their part of the American Dream remains intact and sacrosanct. The inviolable truth of power, wealth and hubris, this has been the legacy of our city fathers to us.
So, when your cruising down Wanamaker Boulevard cursing the traffic and wondering how the hell your going to get home in time to feed the kids and milk the cat after that 15 minute drive from what was once the west side of the city, take heart. Those people who gave you the Expo Centre, the new air hub at Forbes, the congested horror that is the Wanamaker corridor and the wondrous splendor of Lake Sherwood, never to be annexed because of a sweet heart deal with the Kansas Legislature, I understand. It's because we are all good citizens and we believe in those who govern out city and reach for our wallets when no one is looking. We understand that what they do is for our own good. After all, black, Hispanic or just plain ole' white folk, it's like the song says, "God bless the child that's got his own," and a good deal of yours too. Or as I heard some one say once as I rode off into the sunset, "We're all some one's nigger. Or maybe he was just referring to my horse, (he's named after that one "Roy," what's his name rode.) Who knows...
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