We’ve shared with you in the last four weeks one man’s vision for a greater Jefferson City (well, actually two men, as we wrote about Mayor C. W. Thomas—who inspired this series—in our first entry). Our list is far from inclusive of all good ideas nor is having a vision my exclusive domain. You have been invited to share your visions and I hope you will do that now that we are wrapping up this series.
All of this ambitious talk about places to meet, places to visit, and places to live has overlooked a lot of our people who have few or none of the opportunities to participate. If we are to be a great city, we cannot overlook them.
At the library, we sometimes hear about our “homeless problem” and there are those who tell us they won’t visit the library or bring their children there because of “them.” Those patrons and other critics demand we “do something” about them. “They” make people uncomfortable.
The library does not have a homeless problem. The CITY has a homeless problem and the public library is an uncomfortable participant in it—because we have to be.
We are a public institution and whether a person owns a mansion or sleeps in a box, that person is part of “the public.” There is no place for them to go during the day after their overnight accommodations shut down. We are their warm place on frigid days. We are their cool place on oppressively hot days. We are their bathrooms.
I’m sorry that some people are offended because “they” don’t dress as well as most of us…or smell as good as most of us and they hang around our building.
We do not often have any problems with these folks although there have been times when we have called police and some have been banished from our premises. We have signs throughout our building reminding our homeless visitors not to sleep there. Our staff can’t be a dozer police, though, because of their regular duties.
But most of them are okay. We do not judge them on various criteria any more than we judge any of you. You are the public, constituents using a public place in a personal way, too.
I have not had a chance to ask our critics what their solution is. But ignoring the issue or saying it is someone else’s problem to solve is something for the Old Jefferson City—-at a time when a BOLD Jefferson City should be our goal.
Celebrations of things such as bicentennials of becoming the state capital can work in more ways than one. We should make sure our bicentennial observance doesn’t leave “them” out. They are people, the public, fellow citizens. And they deserve—by their presence among us—respect.
Great cities do not become great by only catering to people who smell good.
To do any of the things I have discussed in this series to move a good city toward greatness without facing the problems of those to whom greatness is just a word is irresponsible. As citizens of this community we are responsible to and for one another. That’s what the word “community” implies.
I can’t tell you how to make these things discussed in these entries happen. Many of you have the expertise I lack.
Leonardo daVinci made drawings of flying machines. The Wright Brothers made the machine that flew. Humphry Davy, Warren de la Rue, and Joseph Swan made electric lights but Thomas Edison created the incandescent bulb. Carl Benz created a gasoline-powered automobile but Henry Ford showed how to manufacture them. John Fleming invented the vacuum tube but Guglielmo Marconi created radio.
Some have ideas. Others have the expertise to realize them.
So I’m going to leave you with three statements that have motivated me most of my life and I hope they encourage you to become active in this quest.
The English playwright George Bernard Shaw wrote a lengthy play called Back to Methuselah, retelling some of the earliest stories of the Bible. He creates a conversation in which the snake convinces Eve she should want to learn, that she should eat from the tree of knowledge instead of just living mindlessly in the Garden of Eden. The snake appeals to her curiosity by saying, “You see things, and you say ‘Why?’ I dream dreams that never were, and I say, ‘Why not?’”
I am asking today, “Why not?”
The German philosopher Johan Wolfgang von Goethe continued that thought when he advised, “Dream no small dreams for they have no power to move the hearts of men.”
I am asking you to dream bigger dreams than we have dreamed, bigger even than a new convention center.
Goethe’s tragic masterwork, Faust, includes this observation:
Lose this day loitering—’twill be the same story
To-morrow–and the next more dilatory;
Then indecision brings its own delays,
And days are lost lamenting o’er lost days.
Are you in earnest? seize this very minute–
What you can do, or dream you can, begin it,
Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it,
Only engage, and then the mind grows heated—
Begin it, and the work will be completed!
I am asking our city to be bold.
A bicentennial’s greatest value lies not in dwelling on the past, but in building a foundation for the TRIcentennial. It still will not be good enough to be the Capital City. What more can we be….if we lay the foundation for it now?
I want our bicentennial to be characterized by a sense of boldness that turns a “good enough” city into a great one, that discovers the genius, power, and magic in boldness.
A century ago, a mayor who had seen this city become a modern city that in his lifetime fought off two efforts to take the seat of government elsewhere—Sedalia’s 1896 statewide vote on capital removal and efforts after the 1911 fire to build a new capitol somewhere else—and who modernized our town died dreaming of a convention center.
His spirit of progress is worth recalling and becoming a motivator for becoming a greater city.
You’ve read one man’s vision for accomplishing that. What is yours?
How can we do it?