We’ve got shops, parks and a fantastic festival. We’ve got
churches, schools and non-profit organizations. We’ve got scores of
hard workers, legions of spirited volunteers and an incredible
sense of community spirit.
We’ve got shops, parks and a fantastic festival. We’ve got churches, schools and non-profit organizations. We’ve got scores of hard workers, legions of spirited volunteers and an incredible sense of community spirit.
There’s one thing Gilroy doesn’t have, and in my firm opinion, needs! A hub, a center, a symbol that holds it all together. We need a town square.
In the old days, the town square was the heart of a community. In the middle of town, studded with historic plaques, it pulsed with the rhythm of it’s residents.
It’s where men gathered to talk or play chess. It’s where free concerts were performed. It’s where news was posted, cried, argued or shared.
When I first moved from Watsonville (which has a great town square) to Gilroy, I unsuccessfully tried to find it’s core.
At first, I thought of Miller Park as our nucleus. In 1984, it was just about dead center on the map and named after one of the most influential residents in our history. However, this idea faded when I realized that nothing community centered ever seems to happen at Miller Park.
After the 1989 earthquake, I started picturing the restored Old City Hall as Gilroy’s symbolic center. It’s perfectly positioned on “Main Street” and a wonderful example of our historic architecture. However, even with its guts ripped out and restored, it can’t seem to keep any tenants on site and in business. We can’t have a “heart” where nothing lives.
In the last few years, I’ve come to think of the parking lot at Lewis and Monterey as an incognito square. Even though it’s only striped black top … even though it doesn’t have any picturesque park benches … even though there aren’t any historic trappings to prove it means anything to anyone … it’s the closest thing we’ve got.
Thanks to Linda Graham and company, it’s been home to this summer’s flea market. Every month, the eclectic bazaar provided us with a place to connect with the community in a financial, fun and informal way.
Thanks to our Garlicky Car Show, we saw another free Shaboom concert and bulb torch lighting at that site. People stood, sat and danced everywhere they could find a few inches. The event offered people a chance to talk, laugh, tease, hug or shake hands with people they knew and didn’t get to see often.
A few weeks ago, I was dismayed to read that city leaders plan to dismantle “our impromptu square” and turn it into office buildings. I assumed that the paper would soon be rife with letters suggesting that “we the people” fight this tooth and nail.
Nada. It appears that the only ones trying to adjust the plans are the business owners north of Fourth Street who will lose their only parking lot.
Since I use it as a parking lot too and reallllllly don’t want to hoof it up from the lot behind the Chamber of Commerce, I don’t want it replaced by buildings or turned into a “real” town square.
It was during one of the free concerts sponsored by Fifth Street Live – kudos to those who created that magical event – that I had another “town square” idea … Why not close off Fifth Street between Eigleberry and Monterey? Why not remove the cement street and curbs? Why not bring in sod, quaint street lights, benches, a historic plaque and transform this short street into a permanent plaza? A square doesn’t have to be big to do it’s job.
Maybe a portion of our Garlic Festival proceeds could fund it. Maybe the ever generous Goldsmith family would donate some flowers. Maybe volunteers would offer to plant and tend them.
The new square would give us a hub for downtown activities and not cost us very many precious parking spaces.
If you share my vision for a visible square and know how to make it happen, consider me your newest shadow. I don’t know how to take the lead on that kind of project but I’ll gladly follow.
By now you’ve surely discovered that I’ll never be a city planner or run for office. Aesthetics, downtown charm and support for local businesses are more important to me than ringside office buildings or tax revenues.
Let’s honor our roots and celebrate our community life. Let’s build a hub instead of sacrificing the things that make us special.
Bonnie Evans has lived in Gilroy with her husband Mike for 21 years. They have two grown children and a black lab named Pepper. Her volunteer work centers around end-of-life issues. To support her volunteer efforts, she teaches for Gilroy Unified. You can reach her at bo******@***il.com.
