There Ya Go
The 2020 sale of the former Mutli Purpose Center sent the wheels in motion for the City to create a space for a new community center. As we found out shortly thereafter, those wheels had corners. Little has gone smoothly since.
I give the previous administration an “A” for effort in its push for a new center, and an “F-” for effectiveness.
Others behind those efforts were, at the beginning, working from behind because of the cloud of doubt and bitterness that lingered for years. Doubt because, back then, no one knew how a new center was going to be paid for. Bitterness because of the perceived cold fashion in which the City displaced seniors from a building they grew to love and appreciate as their cozy home away from home.
But the City tried. Dozens of meetings were held — previous city administrator Erik Hansen, a hard worker who I doubt ever really felt comfortable in his post, just loved his meetings. Hansen — a big-city boy in a Mayberry setting — led discussions with senior citizens, City and school officials and high school students; everyone was there. Even Barney and Goober were invited to share their hopes and thoughts.
They all talked. They broke into groups. They put colorful stickers on large pieces of paper stuck on a wall of the library basement — our former leader loved those stickers, too. There were some good conversations, and a lot of opinions were shared — that is, between the inevitable backroom, vitriol-filled fingerpointing that went on.
Don’t tell me the latter didn’t happen, either, because I heard some of it. And every time I did, a pinch more doubt of my own for this process to come to fruition crept in.
All due respect, these groups didn’t get much done. Too many cooks in the kitchen? Maybe. More likely, progress was stunted because indignation and resentment toward Hansen never subsided. In fact, it was borderline hatred, and it led to shoulder shrugging and eyes rolling so far back in people’s heads that some almost got stuck.
And it appeared to me that center supporters, mainly seniors, always seemed to have felt the need to prove their worth and debunk the notion that they were little more than Bridge players.
Not exactly a recipe for progress. There were also roadblocks that had nothing to do with animosity. Early on, there was a flash of hope that we could build a brand-new building, but — shocker — construction costs got in the way. That begged the question: What existing building can we use?
We had a buffet of choices, a good-old potluck. There was the former dollar store, a good-looking building that still is home to nothing but stale air; the second story of the VMC, a reach of a proposition most people knew had no chance; The Caboose — The Caboose? seriously?; and the old liquor store that people now can remember only through old photos and tales of barstool humor yarns spun during Saturday-night last calls.
Each option had some pros, yet all were outmuscled by myriad cons.
But now we have answers. Not only that, we have something to look at as we toodle on by on South St., looking at the former ADO building like 8-yearolds peering through a candy store window, our noses pressed against the window of our car.
How refreshing is it that we can actually see this transformation taking place after all these years, all that great fundraising?
How nice is it that we are filling an empty downtown building, not watching Lyle Noomen knock one down?
But … this is Tracy, where little comes easy, and now, the City is facing its most daunting roadblock.
The city council met last Friday behind closed doors to determine how best to find a panacea for its latest ill: The property line on the west side of the building. That adjacent property is owned by two Tracy residents who, like so many before them, are none too happy with our City leaders. The relationship is as sour as citrus fruit. Picture a married couple on the outs and arguing over property. This cuts both ways.
It’s not pretty, and that’s not good for Tracy. That’s not good for anyone.
Tracy’s attorney warned at last week’s council meeting that reconciliation might be more than an arm’s length away. The process, potentially, might better be measured in months, not days. Will that keep the center from opening this summer?
This sounds pessimistic, I know, but hey, if we’ve learned anything these last six years, it’s that sometimes, even when our patience is tested, we need to persevere, we need to have faith. Heck, just keep your fingers crossed — it can’t hurt.
Good things, after all, come to those who wait.
