The Hotel Dandridge

“What is all this fuss and bother about?” the owner of the demolition company complained. “It's just another big, old, ugly, worthless building. It's empty and not earning anything. A parking lot would at least bring in some money.”

“We don't need to be a town of almost nothing but parking garages and parking lots, Mr. Young,” the mayor retorted. “Wasn't that the lesson that Seattle had to learn so painfully? Why must we repeat what they had to go through? We already know what their result was.”

Mr. Young sighed. “And what, pray tell, was their result?”

“A beautiful old –” the mayor began.

Mr. Young looked triumphant. “Ah-ha! See? You even admit it!”

She gave him a tired look. “If I may continue, please?”

“Fine,” he replied. “But don't expect to change my mind in the process.”

“I'm not sure anyone, short of God Himself, could do that,” the mayor said. “As I was saying: A beautiful old hotel, instead of being saved for posterity as a historic landmark, was demolished, to be replaced by a parking garage. It was only after that happened that people in the city woke up and decided that they weren't going to let that happen anymore.”

“How many times did it happen before that, I wonder?” Mr. Young asked.

“Too many times,” the mayor replied. “And that is the main reason why I refuse to let it happen again here. Take your equipment and business elsewhere. Maybe some other town or city doesn't care about its past, but we care about ours.”

“You're a bunch of damn idealistic fools,” Mr. Young said. “I offer you something that'll make your town money and you chain yourself to a sinking ship instead.” He shook his head and sighed. “You'll never learn.” He turned and left her office, slamming the door behind him.

“No, Mr. Young, I don't believe you will ever learn,” the mayor said sadly.

There was a knock on the door moments later.

“Back so soon, Mr. Young?” the mayor called.

The door opened slightly. The head of the Chamber of Commerce poked her head inside. “Actually, it's Nora. Could we talk for a bit?”

“Sure,” the mayor said. “Come on in. After all, it's not as if I have any important duties to perform.”

Nora entered, softly shutting the door behind her. “Was that Mr. Young who just stormed out of here?”

The mayor sighed. “It was.”

“What in the world made him go ballistic?” Nora asked.

“The fact that we're saving the Dandridge Hotel, not letting him demolish it,” the mayor replied.

Nora stared at her. “You're what?”

The mayor nodded. “Don't you think it should be saved, either? Doesn't anyone care about history anymore?”

“Kris,” Nora said. “We've been friends for a long time.”

“Since at least First Grade,” the mayor said. “I saved you from getting bullied and nearly got suspended for doing it. Thank goodness you spoke up for me.”

Nora smiled. “You still remember that.”

“Of course,” the mayor said. “Why would I want to forget how we first met?” She sat down in her chair behind the desk, then gestured at a chair across from her.

Nora sat down and said, “The downtown area isn't doing as well as it used to.”

“You don't have to show me the Chamber's statistics,” the mayor said. “I'm well aware of it.”

“And yet you defend saving the Dandridge Hotel,” Nora said.

“It's one thing to try to find a way to increase business in a bad economy, it's another to toss history on the bonfire or the rubbish heap,” the mayor said.

“It's not exactly Gettysburg or the Lincoln Memorial, Kris,” Nora pointed out.

“The downtown's businesses have been steadily vacating and moving to the shopping mall outside of Dandridge,” the mayor said. “Some have even moved entirely out of this county. You'd think we had some sort of commercial plague infecting the downtown area.”

“And you don't think that more parking would cure it,” Nora said.

The mayor shook her head. “I know you mean well. I know you want this town to be better off than it is. So do I. But not at the cost of yet another demolished historical building. I need a different kind of solution to the problem.”

Nora was silent for a while. “Maybe we should have a fundraiser,” she suggested.

The mayor tried not to stare. “I'm sorry, but could you repeat that? I thought you suggested something that didn't have to do with demolition.”

“I said maybe we should have a fundraiser, Kris,” Nora said. “All the proceeds going to the downtown area. We could call it the Downtown Dandridge Renaissance Project.”

The mayor didn't quite laugh. “All these months … and suddenly you turn around and suggest something that doesn't include the demolition of yet another historic building. Are you sure you're still my friend Nora? You don't sound like her.”

“I'm not joking,” Nora said. “We could even hold it annually like the street fairs in other places.”

The mayor steepled her hands in front of her chin, interlocking the fingers. “How soon do you think you could get the ball rolling on this?”

“Give me enough helpers, I could get plans started this afternoon,” Nora said.

The mayor smiled. “You're on. Anyone in this building who wants to volunteer is free to do so. Likewise in the Chamber of Commerce. And, who knows, we could even invite Mr. Young to the fundraiser. To show him what can be done when one thinks positively instead of negatively.”

Nora stood up but didn't leave yet. “What if he turns down the invitation?”

The mayor also stood up. “Maybe you can persuade him to accept it. You used to be pretty good at that when we were in the same college sorority. Those pledge drives wouldn't have been the same without you in charge.”

“I had some help,” Nora said.

“Wise is the leader who realizes that they cannot do everything alone,” the mayor said. “Good luck and keep me informed.”

Nora nodded. “Definitely.”

---------

Back at the Chamber of Commerce, there was some surprise when they learned what Nora had suggested to the mayor. They weren't all convinced that it was a good idea, however.

“But what if no one comes?” her secretary asked.

“It's not as if we're waiting for the barbarians to come and take over our town,” Nora replied.

Her secretary looked puzzled.

“It's a reference to a poem by the Greek poet C. P. Cavafy, Waiting for the Barbarians,” Nora said. “I read it back when I was in college. An entire city decides to do nothing but look impressive and wait for the barbarians to arrive and take over.”

“Did they arrive?” her secretary asked.

Nora shook her head. “And the city didn't know what to do anymore. They thought that the barbarians were some sort of solution.”

“That's dreadful,” someone else said. “That's like saying lying down on a railroad track and waiting for a train to come and run over you is a good idea.”

“Precisely,” Nora said. “We're not going to be like that. We're going to make something positive happen. We'll print fliers and hand them around. We'll also print posters and put them where they'll get the most attention. Whether anyone comes or not, we are going to hold our fundraiser. I don't even care if we don't raise more than twenty dollars. I want the event to happen, okay?”

Everyone else in the room nodded in agreement.

“Then let's start brainstorming ideas,” Nora said. “Fran, if you could bring in the whiteboard from the conference room and a felt-tip marker for me, that would be great.”

---------

Mr. Young looked at the flier on his desk. “You'd think they were serious about this, Jack.”

“They apparently are, sir,” Jack said. “Are you still going to try the legal route?”

“Only if there's no other option,” Mr. Young said.

“Oh, and one other thing,” Jack went on.

Mr. Young waited.

“You're invited to the fundraiser,” Jack said.

“I'm what? ” Mr. Young asked in surprise.

“You don't have to go, though,” Jack said. “It's not mandatory. But if I was you, I would go. Just to see what it's like. Who knows? It could be interesting. It could be fun.”

“You sound like you'd like to go to it,” Mr. Young said.

“I wish, but I have to work that day,” Jack said with a sigh.

“What if we both went to it?” Mr. Young suggested.

“But the work –” Jack protested.

“Can wait until the next day,” Mr. Young finished for him. “At worst, this fundraiser will be a complete and utter failure. Then I wouldn't need to file suit against the town. I could just bring in the bulldozers, steam shovels, paving machines, and all the rest. I bet we could have a parking lot in place of the hotel in less than a day.”

“And the hotel?” Jack wondered.

“I could care less,” Mr. Young said. “My job isn't to save buildings; it's to demolish them. Just you remember that. You aren't a volunteer here; you're a paid employee. You want to keep earning a paycheck, you do what I tell you to do. Okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Jack said quietly as he watched Mr. Young toss the flier into the nearest trash can.

----------

It wasn't just the fundraiser that got attention via the fliers and posters, it was also the preparations themselves.

Passersby would stop and watch as one white tent after another was raised, with a pole at each corner. The white tents were laid out in a cross shape reminiscent of the Swiss flag right down the center of two cross streets. Downtown vendors, as well as out-of-town vendors, were encouraged to promote their stores as well as their wares. With any luck, they might even make a large number of sales during the fundraiser. They would keep half the money while donating, as agreed beforehand, to the fundraising committee.

“I just hope it doesn't decide to rain or get windy on the day of the fundraiser,” Nora's secretary said.

“Then we can move everything indoors and still hold it,” Nora said. “As my grandparents used to say: Always have backup plans.”

“And don't forget to look in the rear-view mirrors,” her secretary said and grinned.

“That's the idea,” Nora said approvingly. “Let's keep our spirits up even if Mother Nature tries to dampen them or even flood us right out.”

“This is going to be fun,” her secretary said, almost feeling like a schoolgirl again.

“It sure is,” Nora agreed.

---------

The day of the fundraiser wasn't a sunny one. It wasn't rainy either. It was rather somewhere in between. Grey, overcast, and a little bit cold. But you wouldn't have known it from the excitement in downtown Dandridge. People came dressed for the weather and were determined to have a good time.

Rather than fill the parking spaces along the curbs of the cross streets, there was a parking area across from the courthouse and shuttle buses that transported people to and from the fundraiser.

More white tents were set up when even more vendors wanted to participate. The fundraiser area spread east and west, ultimately filling three intersections rather than the one that had been planned for.

Thunder rumbled, but no lightning and no rain. Laughter would erupt each time thunder was heard. Almost as if daring Mother Nature to do her worst.

--------

Mr. Young and Jack arrived a couple hours after the fundraiser began. They were pleasantly surprised to see all the activity, despite the weather.

“It could've been pouring-down rain and they wouldn't have cared,” Jack said.

“I never knew that so many people cared about the downtown area,” Mr. Young said. “That's the tenth person I've seen wearing a Don't Tear Down the Hotel t-shirt. Eleventh. Twelfth. Thirteenth. Fourteenth.” He gave up counting.

“You still want to demolish it?” Jack asked him quietly.

“That depends on how much this fundraiser earns,” Mr. Young said. “If they can raise enough to offset the cost of the demolition, then they can have their stupid hotel. I can always find something else that's far more worthless to demolish.”

“I suppose, sir,” Jack said. “Maybe sometimes old buildings should be saved instead of destroyed.”

Mr. Young jabbed him in the chest. “Careful. If you keep talking like that, you won't be working for me much longer.”

“Maybe that's a good thing,” Jack said. “I've seen too many beautiful old buildings destroyed since my first day at the company. Some were –” He shook his head and shrugged. “Too late to mourn what's gone. But maybe it doesn't have to happen this time.”

Mr. Young looked at him, then suggested, “Let's see if we can find the mayor and congratulate her and the Chamber of Commerce on their fundraiser.”

---------

The mayor was helping sell bags of freshly cooked kettle corn and cups of hot chocolate. She saw the two men approach. They didn't seem to be unhappy with what was happening around them.

“Glad you could make it after all,” the mayor told them.

“Wouldn't miss it for the world,” Mr. Young said.

Jack rolled his eyes. “It's amazing how many people came out on a day like this.”

“It's about more than just the Hotel Dandridge,” the mayor told Jack. “We're hoping to create an ongoing fund so that we can save more buildings from being demolished.”

“Where will the customers park, though?” Mr. Young asked the mayor.

“Like today, they could take a free shuttle to the downtown area,” the latter replied. “Then we could even turn the downtown streets into traffic-free areas sometimes. Like they're doing in towns and cities in Europe. If they can do it there, why can't we do it here?”

“Different kind of people, different attitudes,” Mr. Young replied. “Americans love their vehicles.”

“They also love their towns,” the mayor said. “I haven't heard heard one single complaint about having to park across from the courthouse and take shuttle buses here.”

“This is just one time,” Mr. Young said. “What if they had to do it on a daily basis?”

“I think they would willingly adapt if they knew it was helping improve their town,” the mayor said. “Not everyone wants traffic jams and parking lots everywhere, you know. And if this sort of attitude spreads, there could be more towns and cities in America doing it.”

“No need to preach to me,” Mr. Young said. “I have a business. I have a job to do there. Saving old stuff isn't part of the picture.”

“Maybe that needs to change, then,” the mayor said.

“You'd have to be very persuasive, ma'am,” Mr. Young said. “With something more convincing than bribery or tax loopholes.”

“What would you suggest, then?” the mayor asked. “Something that might encourage you to refurbish and rebuild rather than demolish. Get enough customers interested in saving and you might have to change how you do business.”

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves,” Mr. Young said. “Let's see what this fundraiser brings in first, then see what can be done next or what can't be done.”

“Fair enough,” the mayor said. “Now, then. Some kettle corn and hot chocolate for both of you?”

“Yes, please,” Jack said.

----------

It was dark when the mayor stepped up onto the temporary wooden platform in the center of the fundraising area. The sea of faces turned to her, waiting and listening. The sea included the two men from the demolition company.

“Excellent news!” the mayor called out. “Even with only a preliminary count of the money earned today, we have exceeded what we needed!”

There was loud cheering throughout the crowd. Even Jack cheered. But he noticed that Mr. Young kept quiet.

“If Mr. Young and his associate Jack would care to join me here?” the mayor went on.

They did so.

“Is this really necessary?” Mr. Young asked the mayor. “This could've been done more quietly.”

“Of course it's necessary,” the mayor replied. “You need your money; we have your money and then some.” She counted out the money required and laid it in Mr. Young's hands. “There you go. The Hotel Dandridge still stands. Even more good news. I've filed papers to make it a historic landmark.” She noticed that he didn't close his hands over the money. “What's wrong? That's the correct amount. We double-checked.”

“Keep it,” Mr. Young said, handing the money back to her. “You've proved your point.”

“And the demolition of the hotel?” she asked.

“Won't happen,” he replied. “I may not like the old hotel – and I don't – but I'd be a fool to destroy something that you've all tried so hard to save. The last thing I need is an entire town turned against me and my business.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” the mayor asked.

“When Christmas rolls around and you receive an anonymous donation to the Save the Historic Buildings Fund,” Mr. Young replied, “you'll know who it's from. That's how.” He smiled. “You know? You should do this every year.”

“That's the plan,” the mayor said.

“Good,” Mr. Young said. “We'll be here next year. And without any wrecking balls, bulldozers, or steam shovels.”

“Promise?” the mayor asked.

“Promise,” Mr. Young replied.