To only the surprise of the Red Bank Town Council, an informal drive down Dayton Boulevard by two council members not long ago has confirmed that the once-proud Chattanooga suburb is dying. That's right, it's drying up. Unoccupied commercial buildings, it was reported, have jumped 30 percent over this time a year ago and - if you can believe it - there are those who actually wonder why.
Granted, the town has done little, if anything at all, to attract businesses since the four-lane Highway 27, or "Corridor J," bypassed the old Highway 27 some years ago as the best way to get to north Hamilton County. While this isn't meant to point fingers at past Red Bank leaders, there is now hardly a week that goes by there isn't an outcry over the way the current council openly flaunts its use of speed and traffic cameras.
No other suburb in Chattanooga uses the now-hated devices, but Red Bank appears to rejoice at the revenues its "got cha" philosophy provides and seemingly can't understand why other municipalities don't embrace such a "cash cow," as transparent as it may well be. The reason, as they are slowly learning, is that many drivers, myself included, now try to avoid its city limits for that reason alone. Last month Signal Mountain, intent on keeping a "Mayberry" type of town, voted them down unanimously.
Is my disdain for cameras because I challenge traffic lights when they turn yellow, or unduly speed down the streets? That is hardly the case. I pride myself on driving carefully, but there is a certain stigma that accompanies traffic cameras and I am so opposed to the "big brother" entrapment I'll go elsewhere. I simply don't want to be around a community that thinks preying on its own citizens is befitting any neighborhood.
Worse is the fact I have several friends who abhor their drive home at night because it includes Red Bank's streets. These, and many others, now recognize it still cannot be proven traffic cameras promote safety hardly as much as they generate money for the town's obviously sagging tax base.
Red Bank has been a graying community in recent years. Because of its lack of growth and waning vitality, parts of it are now run-down and seedy. Oh, most of those people who live there are still every bit as wonderful as ever, as evidenced every December by the Lions Club Christmas Tree sale.
By tradition, I bought trees there for years, but now it doesn't feel like there is the warmth there once was. I'll always cherish the memory of those Friday nights at Red Bank High's stadium when the beloved mayor, Tom Collins, would hold forth while Tom Weathers' kids would play for the community's pride, some even wearing the same numbers their dads once donned.
What would I do if I were suddenly the Red Bank king? The obvious first step would be to throw the cameras in the river, or else sell them to the city of Chattanooga that just recently had the stark audacity to announce there would be no such cameras on its Martin Luther King Blvd., this in order to speed up traffic, if you can believe that.
Secondly, in my years in real estate I learned the first thing any family wants to know about a community is what kind of schools are offered. Red Bank High is not without blemish so I would offer several policemen as additional school resource officers, calling in the National Guard if I had to in order to "really" clean it up once and for all.
The town's elected officials should immediately launch an education initiative to supplement what the Hamilton County School System offers. In short, don't just see what would it take to make the elementary and middle schools more attractive for young families - Red Bank should be better than other communities! Welcome a charter school - find out whatever it takes to bring testing figures higher than ever before and then demand excellence instead of merely requesting it.
I would visit the churches, some still so very vibrant, and seek their help in making the town the "most loving" of all the Chattanooga suburbs. Figure a way to help the hundreds who live in the apartments scattered all over town become actual homeowners - there are some solid real estate buys available right now.
Lure medical groups to Red Bank, lawyers' offices, and furniture stores like John Echols' already has. With Corridor J, it's so easy to get to town. Plant trees, water flowers, promote community services; this isn't hard to figure out.
Send a delegation to Nashville to request the state, in whatever way possible, help turn the stagnant town into a rejuvenated one. Seek non-profits, business incubators, and invent ways to get fledgling businesses to replace those that have left. Again, geographically Red Bank is an almost perfect location, but the rash of adverse publicity, involving everything from elected officials to drug-infested "Section 8" housing, has taken a bitter toll and must be curbed.
In short, Red Bank's help must come from within. Citizens groups should actively recruit the best and brightest to serve as elected officials instead of any "good ol' boys." Have focus groups with the police and public works to identify and initiate new ways of making Red Bank a better place to live, where friendly, forgiving, and loving people are committed to helping one another.
Some time ago I was able to talk to the town's judge, Johnny Houston, and he told me it was like growing up in rural West Tennessee. If Red Bank could capture just an ounce of that wonder and goodness that Johnny described, those vacant buildings they mourn that now dot Dayton Boulevard won't be empty for very long.
royexum@aol.com