Old Blog 3

Walmart: The Final Nail in the Coffin of Bradford as we Knew it.
Sunday, February 1, 2009

Progress is fine and dandy, I suppose. I have no intention of spewing out a rant against Walmart. If the people of my home town see it fit to have it there, they can live in blissfull ignorance as the fertile earth beneath them is wasted. The truth is that we will continue to see the demise of the businesses that were once the charming icons of the lineage of hard working settlers of that land. As it happens, we might blame it on the economy, balking at the faults of our capitalist system. If we do, we must remember that we own a part of the blame.

Would I feel such disdain tonight had I not left Bradford ten years ago? If I grew with it? In it? Would I be just as complacent as I am now? I have no intentions, beyond writing this useless blog, to do anything about it. I am not judging the community of Bradford-- I only wish that I could be proud of it; that the people could have made different choices and worked toward creating something more beautiful than a suburban institution. In what fields do the children run free? What trees do they climb? Where do they touch the Earth with their bare feet? Is there any deviation from this course? I'm not sure if it should be my concern.

I don't mean to be harsh. I'm just sad that it's too late for myself to fully appreciate Bradford as it was when I was a kid; in the days when it had a distinct culture. I remember Bradford in the late 80's and it was a different place then. I'll always remember the endearing charm of the elderly Portuguese, Italian, and Dutch in their felt hats, or hand-made aprons tending their bountiful backyard gardens, or marinating their pigs roasting on spits. Immigrant farmers-- such a beautiful image in my mind. My memory serves to remind me of the smell of the Autmn havest, the blackest soil you'll ever see, the marshland farmhouses, and the calloused hands and sun-aged faces of the local farmers.

As history expands further into the past, we must find a way to honour it, or it will become lost under vinyl walls and neon signs.