Is the Boy Crying "Wolf!"?

My name is Mark, and I hope I'm not playing the part of the shepherd boy foolishly crying "Wolf!"


However, in case a beast truly approaches through the darkening forest . . .


The city my family and I reside in has plans. Big plans. Plans for revitalizing the city's downtown. Plans for drawing more and better businesses to the historic main street and surrounding areas.


Basically, plans for community renewal, cultural enrichment, and economic prosperity.


But most critical to my family and me, the city's plans do not include us. In fact, those plans involve razing our house -- and the houses of most of our neighbors on our city block -- to the ground.


Daneen (my wife) and I learned of these plans, designated Option 1 and Option 2, on April 24, 2012, at an open house arranged by city government.


Several large and impressively designed displays provided open house visitors with the important details of Option 1 and Option 2. Common to both options are a revamped city library, a revamped city hall, and a revamped (and potentially relocated) city park; a new police, courts, and dispatch building; a new fire station; and last of all, a brand-new, never-before-have-eyes-feasted-on performing arts center.


Also common to both options is the complete nonexistence of the house my family and I currently reside in. The same is true for the majority of the houses on our city block (indicated as "4th block" on the handout provided at the open house, which is available for view on the city's website).


Daneen and I had heard rumors over the past year to two years about city government's gradual steps toward improving downtown, among those steps the rezoning of our city block and other surrounding blocks from residential to commercial and the purchasing (or attempted purchasing) of some properties on the city block directly to the north of ours. Seeing the result of those gradual steps was sobering and saddening. Indeed, for me personally, my emotional state over the intervening weeks has at times been something akin to the grieving process at the death of a loved one -- a melodramatic comparison, one could claim, but that's the course my feelings have followed.