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captainsblogWho'da thunk it?
Years ago, a furniture store ran an incessant jingle:
You're gonna wanna, come to Lackawanna....
I never did, and they wound up on the heap of defunct bankrupt retailers by the mid-90s. I took my first trip in ages into the heart of that strange, sad city early this morning, and it was clear that if anybody really wann-ed to come there, it was likely on account of a speeding ticket.
If ever there is a place where church and state are merged, it's the land of Father Baker. From the city line to the heart of its depressing downtown, virtually everything is Catholic. Huge RC cemeteries line either side of Ridge Road, the main drag into town. You pass Baker Court, Baker Victory Services, and of course F-Bake's crowning achievement, the Our Lady of Victory Basilica- built with the hands and riches of the blue-collar steelworkers who turned this corner of Buffalo into its own proud city for generations until Bethlehem went slouching into bankruptcy itself and the coal-fired plants all went silent.
My last time in these parts was a couple of Christmases ago, when Cameron's choral group performed the Messiah inside the Basilica's stately surroundings. Not much has changed since then- the street corners are full of FOR RENT signs, and cheap Chinese restaurants, and a bizarre looking tribute to 60s Big City Junior High School architecture that was my destination at 9 a.m.:
Surrounded by steel, held up by metal pilings, Lackawanna City Hall harks back to days of promise and progress- but none are to be found. The main business of the city these days is government, and today, at least, the governed consisted mostly of the poor schnooks who got caught speeding on one of the main drags that happen to pass through the city limits.
Prosecutors herded the defendants in, ten at a time. All got the same deal- parking ticket and traffic school- and were moved down the assembly line of processing, paying and pleading, much as their ancestors once moved empires along the assembly lines of the bar mills.
I, and eventually my opposing counsel, were shoe-horned into this mess, waiting for one law clerk to pre-try our diddlybit little civil case, which my client insisted I bring here rather than Buffalo. Uh huh.
Close to an hour after arrival, we were escorted into something little more than a supply closet- with apologies from K for the decor, and stacks of surrounding crap, and the lack of air conditioning. "There's not a lot of room in City Hall," she said. One wonders what economic development incentive agencies are toiling away in the good spots.
We made progress, and I may need to go back in the middle of next month, but frankly, I'd prefer a parking ticket and traffic school to this.
Years ago, a furniture store ran an incessant jingle:
You're gonna wanna, come to Lackawanna....
I never did, and they wound up on the heap of defunct bankrupt retailers by the mid-90s. I took my first trip in ages into the heart of that strange, sad city early this morning, and it was clear that if anybody really wann-ed to come there, it was likely on account of a speeding ticket.
If ever there is a place where church and state are merged, it's the land of Father Baker. From the city line to the heart of its depressing downtown, virtually everything is Catholic. Huge RC cemeteries line either side of Ridge Road, the main drag into town. You pass Baker Court, Baker Victory Services, and of course F-Bake's crowning achievement, the Our Lady of Victory Basilica- built with the hands and riches of the blue-collar steelworkers who turned this corner of Buffalo into its own proud city for generations until Bethlehem went slouching into bankruptcy itself and the coal-fired plants all went silent.
My last time in these parts was a couple of Christmases ago, when Cameron's choral group performed the Messiah inside the Basilica's stately surroundings. Not much has changed since then- the street corners are full of FOR RENT signs, and cheap Chinese restaurants, and a bizarre looking tribute to 60s Big City Junior High School architecture that was my destination at 9 a.m.:
Surrounded by steel, held up by metal pilings, Lackawanna City Hall harks back to days of promise and progress- but none are to be found. The main business of the city these days is government, and today, at least, the governed consisted mostly of the poor schnooks who got caught speeding on one of the main drags that happen to pass through the city limits.
Prosecutors herded the defendants in, ten at a time. All got the same deal- parking ticket and traffic school- and were moved down the assembly line of processing, paying and pleading, much as their ancestors once moved empires along the assembly lines of the bar mills.
I, and eventually my opposing counsel, were shoe-horned into this mess, waiting for one law clerk to pre-try our diddlybit little civil case, which my client insisted I bring here rather than Buffalo. Uh huh.
Close to an hour after arrival, we were escorted into something little more than a supply closet- with apologies from K for the decor, and stacks of surrounding crap, and the lack of air conditioning. "There's not a lot of room in City Hall," she said. One wonders what economic development incentive agencies are toiling away in the good spots.
We made progress, and I may need to go back in the middle of next month, but frankly, I'd prefer a parking ticket and traffic school to this.