History, Currency, and Eventuality
Whenever Becky and I visit my hometown, we try to drop in on Ralph and Vera.
He sits on town council, and she has her ears to the ground. Both love to dish out Watsontown scoops.
Our recent visit coincided with the Little League World Series, an event just up the road from W-town in South Williamsport. Curiously, we had never been to a game.
We had a grand slam of a time with families from around the world as Texas beat out California and adventurous kids slid down the steep embankment behind center field on sheets of cardboard.
Baseball is a fitting metaphor for Watsontown’s unique history, currency (meaning current state of affairs and its cultural value), and eventuality.
History: Boom Town
In 1938 Carl Stotz gathered his nephews and their friends to play ball in Williamsport, founding a Little League the next year.
Watsontown’s history is no less inauspicious: A boom town sprung up on the banks of the West Branch of the Susquehanna as Penn’s Woods was clear-cut, its virgin timber floating to all points south.
After that boom busted, manufacturing took over as its main employer: Bricks, cabinetry, castings, and assorted objects left Watsontown by train and truck. Most of that production has moved on to other locales.
Since the 1970’s, the commercial tract known as Main Street thinned out thanks to changing trends such as auto-centric plazas and malls in nearby communities (some having already gone belly up).
Our beloved Ben Franklin store closed in 1986.
Currency: Still Swinging
Even baseball has experienced dips and turns in its popularity prompting some to ask:
Are the games too long for our attention spans? (Six innings in the kids’ leagues feels long enough).
Are the public/private stadium deals worth the cost?
Do games really need racing perogies1 or nph-nph-nph dance club music and light shows to keep the kids coming out?
But then you attend a Little League World Series game in Southside, as we did on Tuesday, drive back to Lancaster listening to the Phillies eek out a 9th inning walk-off victory over San Fransisco, and you feel like baseball is here to stay.
Watsontown feels the same way: Still swinging through seasons of rally runs and depressing downturns.
For instance, Ralph tells me the home ownership rate recently dropped below 50%. This is not a good sign for any town.2
As a returning son, it’s a sock in the gut to notice the now-shuttered CVS and the fading paint on the Watson Theater marquee.
Meanwhile the obvious in-town industry consists of a metastasizing labyrinth of impermeable warehouses owned by Moran Industries.3
This kind of “growth” may be pro-business and legal, but is it economically or culturally healthy in the long game? Who, ultimately, wins in such a scenario?
As the years go on, though, my heart is encouraged by Watstontownians taking up the mantle of town character. And why shouldn’t they?
The place still boasts some enviable resources that make it worth so much more than a ghost town or a bedroom community:
The faithful Susquehanna is cleaner then ever, and the crisp mountain air still drifts down into its valley.
The river front park is tranquil and well-kept. On the grounds of the former swimming pool a Saturday farmer’s market buzzes with activity.
Numerous small businesses keep on swining despite shifting trends: Lingles Market, Waggin’ Tails Coffee, Rick Wolf’s glass studio, two convenience stores on either end of town, a tackle and outfitters shop, and 3 new Airbnb’s.4
Two brick plants still churn out, well…bricks.
Historic homes line tree-lined streets with barely any motor traffic.5
Eventuality: We’re in Extra Innings
Vera raved about the dedication of the Watsontown Historical Center's new home in the former Farmer’s National Bank as Ralph happily showed me the photos on his phone.
I missed the celebration by a day (Doi! Not on my calendar).
And to think: John Ravert brought his calliope, and an ice cream social took place right across Main Street from the former Becker’s Ben Franklin, my second home growing up.
Jim Robinson was also in the house signing his book, My Watsontown, a collection of historical vignettes and photos from years of maintaining an impressive website.
So, it appears the eventuality of Watsontown might be less a boom in commerce and more a boost from historical celebration.
Hopefully, they’ll work together to move the town into a long season of pride and prosperity.
I tip my Tampa Bay cap to Mrs. T’s Pierogies who race 280 yards around PNC Park at each Pirates game. Those are tears in my eyes, yes. 😂
No, it merely points to a declining town culture in general, including financial opportunity. Property “developers” may be minding their own investments, but they’re also clear-cutting the potential for individual household equity to become the backbone of a prosperous town. Home owners pay taxes AND tend to care for their properties and neighborhoods. If you’re care about such things by reading this lengthy footnote (!), please visit Strong Towns, Inc.
See my previous post in which I speculate, rather hopelessly, about the presence of Oompa Loompas in those mysterious buildings.
And there’s more: Several churches, relatively cheap homes (if you can wrest them from Mr. Potter), The Watson Inn, and the newly freshened-up Buzz’s pizza where Becky and I grabbed a take-out lunch and ate it in a gazebo at the Eighth Street park. Only noise: Me yelping and swatting at bees.
I often forget to look for cars while crossing side streets, and I’m still alive. I’m smart enough to NEVER try this in Lancaster City.