One to one

Here I am again, I’ve come back to Square One. I use capital letters with the last two words in the previous sentence because it’s a proper name, not the starting point in Monopoly or whatever game the phrase came from. (In my mind, it’s Monopoly, but I haven’t played it for years. It gets pretty boring pushing fake properties around on a board, spending fake money you don’t have and never will.)

But the part about returning to the spot where it all began is not fake at all: I literally have come back to Square One. This is because it happens to be the name of my home town. If you think I’m trying to be funny, you’re wrong. Believe me, growing up where I did, the ability to laugh about the name wore off at an early age. I’ll explain, however.

First, let’s consider the difference between going or coming BACK TO versus finding oneself AT Square One again. While this could seem like an insignificant difference in wording, it’s really not. I’ll just leave that thought there for you to consider it. It might refer to failure in attempting to accomplish something and so to the need to try again, to figure out how to do it right on the next try. Optimism is another option, so that being at square one is just the beginning of an anticipated journey.

There is both rhyme and reason to this comparison. One indicates a frustrated or unsuccessful venture, and the other refers to a starting out, but with the expectation of sailing forward toward a goal. It all depends on where you situate yourself regarding prepositions. This does not mean we shouldn’t consider how Square One even became a things.

There are several theories about how the name of my town came to be. The theories are not well documented, but oral history helps. It’s the search for the right name that led to the current choice. After all there were three previous names and selecting, then changing how a town is to be called is not always as simple as rolling the dice when playing a board game.

The first name for my town was Ganargua, which was a reference to the name of a pretty little creek whose name they said meant "where the village was born or suddenly sprang up.” Funny, though, it seems to run in and among the populations in the region, and is less than thirty-five miles long. 

The problem with a nice Iroquois word like Ganargua is that back then it was too indigenous and people wanted a name they could get their tongues around. Unfortunately, the translation, although short and sweet, wasn’t all that pretty. When the English version became known as “mud” and thus “Mud Creek” became the name of the hamlet, it didn’t have the nice ring to it that Red Creek, had, just a few miles away.

People in the area - probably the town fathers, urged by the town mothers as often happened back then - , proposed Tolland. That suggestion came from Toll Land, because the town also sat at Lock 291 or something (don’t take my word for it, I’m bad at numbers) on the Erie Canal. While we’re on the subject of names Erie went from that lovely name to Barge, and that made a group of residents very unhappy until the canal reverted to its originally romantic-sounding Erie.

Another problem with Tolland was that it was forever being misspelled as Toll Land. Some people also resented being classified as a simple stop on the waterway, when there was so much more to the place. History is where you discover it, and Tolland seemed uninspiring.

The next name, which somebody approved although there is no documentation as to how that occurred, was Smithville. Now Smith is an extremely common surname, but most people attributed it to the Joseph Smith, the one who was run out of town for what would subsequently be known as Mormon religious beliefs. Around town Joseph was famous for speaking in tongues, with the result that he was thought to have a very addled brain. He was forced out, maybe because of the Mormon belief in the right to have multiple wives. That’s called polygamy and the strait-laced locals weren’t having any of that. The name had to go.

Next up was Swift’s Landing, which appeared harmless, and was. Somebody Swift had been the first white (man) to settle on the spot, so he was considered worthy enough to give his name to the place. Note that this could be considered a fine example of racist thinking, since Ganargua had long ago been discarded as too foreign. 

I don’t recall how long this Swift fellow reigned, but he too lost out. There came a classical phase in state history, where populations sprang up with names from Antiquity: Syracuse, Rome, Naples, Macedon, Carthage, Palmyra, and many others that gave Indian names a lot of competition. 

If memory serves, my town tried on another couple of names before the local government threw up its hands and said, We’re back at square one again.” Which was exactly when they realized they’d just found a name that was a perfect fit. It had been there, waiting, all the time.

So at long last Square One had found its defining feature, its historical identity, and could move on, promoting itself in a manner that might attract as many visitors as Hill Cumorah and the Sacred Grove - Joseph Smith’s doing - might. Not that there was much competition for the spectacular Mormon Pageant held every July.

Except there was no real history to the newest - and, hopefully, the last - name of the town. It would require some creativity to put Square One on the map. Not just as a cute name, but also as an entertaining place to be. Locals looked around and discovered places like Hay-on-Wye in Wales, which had books in every free spot in town. Hardware stores sold books; castles and pharmacies sold them; even pastry shops, bars, and bookstores sold them. My town didn’t want to copy that idea, so it found ways to capitalize on its name. Wye was a nice name for a waterway, but Mud Creek was not, so the selling point would have to be human-made. Here are some examples:

Local stores found names they considered in tune with the theme and put up cute signs: Not the Only One was a shop of secondhand apparel, quite upscale in fact. One of a Kind was a place you could get jewelry made to order, no two pieces alike. One Up was a small bar that boasted a new style, new flavors, of chicken wings. The locale advertised having a flavor a notch above the original wings at Theresa’s Anchor Bar in downtown Buffalo.

Al-one Am I got a bit bold with its thinking along plays on the town’s name. People reading the sign were always confused about the pronunciation, especially the one in Al-one. At least customers who entered the shop could immediately see it sold furniture and specialized in high-quality mattresses. There seemed to be a connection between being alone and sleeping well. Might have been a subtle joke on the part of the owner. 

(B)one on (B)one should be an easy one to figure out. It could have been a deluxe butcher shop, but was actually a weight-loss center. The name was not humorous, though, and the last I heard there’s a real butcher’s going into that space. But enough about signs along the main drag, which do attract visitors and provoke a few smiles. Let me tell you about a few other initiatives.

Squares have been painted inside the lines of the crosswalks and they have a nice blue 1 in the center. Following that them, on one side of the crosswalk sits a café or bistro called Blue Uno. Most people know the numbers in Spanish from Sesame Street, so the suggestion for the name was approved. It’s not clear whether there will be tolerance for One in other languages when names are proposed for new venues, but time will tell. Due, Deux, Dous, Dois… except I’m forgetting that we’re at Square One, not Two.

Signs around two feet by two feet have been placed around town and on the outskirts to advertise what the town is Number One in the country for. Its claims to fame are rather surprising, but residents did a lot of research to come up with the unique facts Just a few examples of what Square One can boast about:

It has the most afghans knitted (or crocheted) by male afghan makers: five. Names of these crafters are available at the town hall office, second floor, or through a QR code on walls or fences.

It has the longest lines for a hot dog stand to get hot dogs that are exactly like the other stands serve, except the town is the only one in the country (believe it or not) that actually measures the lines, so it feels justified in claiming the distinction. It has documented the measurements with photos. I think the record is .76 mile in length, but that might have changed.

The number of people per capita who wear shorts and tee shirts all year round, even at -30 degrees: 88. A true record, seeing as how Square One is the the northeast. There is no indication on the claim as to whether the shorts wearers are allowed to wear boots or snowshoes with their scanty winter apparel. It is also feared that at any moment Maine or Minnesota might lay claim to the record.

It’s probably only fair to tell you that this whole name game thing has me fed up. I don’t want to see my home town reduced to a bunch of little stores selling trivia to the curious. We are much more than a bunch of souvenirs made in China being sold by crafty entrepreneurs able to come up with commercial names approved by local authorities.

Yes, I must confess. I think my home town has sold its soul and I don’t think I can put up with the betrayal much longer. I need to do something about this feeling, need to get away, far away. I will forget about how we got to this point.

However, when I think I’m finally able to escape the town, ready to get away from my unhappy memories, from wanting to cling to a past that was before my time, before tourism became a thing, it inevitably happens: 

I can’t forget. 

I can’t give up.

And then I end up back at Square One.