What Was, Is Now, and Is Yet To Come

On our way back from the storage unit in Boardman on Saturday afternoon, the babes and I did a little exploring. I continued east on 224, across 680 and all the way to Struthers Road, and then north to Bridge Street in Struthers. We crossed the river, then drove north on Wilson Avenue along the river through Campbell (pronounced Camel). If you're a longtime reader, you'll remember the story on Tyler's blog about the day spent cleaning up the historic Youngstown Sheet & Tube Workers' Housing, built in 1918. I didn't take the time to find that neighborhood, but what I saw was all the old abandoned buildings along the river—the old steel mills. I also saw lots of dilapidated and abandoned homes, stores and buildings.

What I felt as I passed these signs of lost lifestyles was great sadness. Imagine the excitement the steelworkers and administrators and managers experienced when they landed these jobs. How secure they must have felt. Their wives and husbands and children must have been exultant at the new homes or apartments, the new cars, at not having to stretch every penny, resew every seam, hand clothing down from child to child. To be able to afford meat for meals and flour for bread. Many of them probably lived with their extended family, as we do, and the new home meant the grandkids didn't have to sleep with grandpa. I'm sure it wasn't a lavish lifestyle, but I imagine it was a modestly comfortable one.

To think of what happened to these people, quickly and harshly, when the steel mills became superfluous is just unimaginable and overwhelming. As an educated and experienced, computer-savvy worker in the 21st xentury, I have options. I have lots of options. It might take me a while to find the right next job each time I decide to change jobs, but I can find the job. I have the opportunity to learn and grow and prosper.

When an industry shuts down, there are no other jobs in that industry to which to turn. It would have been devastating, I believe, to those workers. The loss must have been staggering.


The reason Tyler and Jaci and I, along with many other like-minded people, are here in the Mahoning Valley today is that we see its beauty, its wonderful, kind-hearted people, its great natural resources. We know that once it was a great city, and we know it has the potential to be great again.

To see what was and is no more is sad, is depressing. But to envisage what can be is empowering. We want what is yet to come. We want to use our brains and our willpower and our muscles to help bring it back, to restore the greatness of this beautiful area.

Those who knew and loved Bob Fitzer frequently quote his ten Rules of Living. If you haven't seen them before, I'll add them here:

Bob's Top Ten Rules of Living
1. Get Involved
2. Be Kind
3. Never Give Up
4. Rejoice in the Success of Others
5. Take Chances
6. Be Humble
7. Embrace Chaos
8. Take Time
9. Trust in Your Intuition-Guts-Bones
10. Don't Move to the Suburbs

As for me and my kids and my grandkids, we're not moving to the suburbs. We're working, sweating, thinking—we're bringing this city back. And if we're successful, no one will ever have to drive past Youngstown State University, up 5th Avenue, down West Federal, and say, "Remember when those crazy people thought they could make Youngstown great again?

I'm almost 58 and I choose to believe we can make it happen in my lifetime.

I'm glad I live in Youngstown, Ohio.