The Columbia Courier

My Dear Columbia , It has come to my attention that an address in town is about to undergo a transformation so complete that one is tempted to check the deed for a misprint. Yes, I refer to 425 Union Street, that modest address which, for more than a decade, has held the town's imagination rather more than it occupied the town's good graces. For years, the building was a gentlemen's club of the sort where the entertainment wore very little. It was, one might say, the only establishment in the borough where the manner of dress (or undress) and the public commentary stood in inverse proportion. But brace yourselves, dear readers, and perhaps sit down if you are inclined toward fainting: the building has been sold to Align Life Ministries, a faith-based, pro-life nonprofit devoted to pregnancy testing, ultrasounds, parenting classes, and assorted supports for expectant families. The ministry has spent its recent years in cramped quarters at 462 Chestnut Street, and announced t...

My Dear Columbia , It has been said that adversity introduces a town to itself (at least I've said it), and this summer we have become rather more intimately acquainted than we may have intended. One hoped a 300th birthday would arrive with bunting and brass bands. Instead, the season delivered homicides, tragic accidents, tornadoes and a beloved building that will soon no longer be with us. Not to mention a bridge that appears to be reconsidering its commitment to standing. Quite a lot for one small borough to absorb between Memorial Day and Labor Day. Your author's nerves are not what they were in June. Then again, neither is the bridge. And yet, amid catastrophes, one constant endures: the traffic. Precious little has been done about it, unless one counts the collective sighing. Where are we heading? At present, "into the intersection, at speed, without looking." Our motorists treat posted limits as charming suggestions from a bygone age. Our pedestrians drift into...

My Dear Columbia , I trust this letter finds you well, or at least as well as one can be while dodging e-bikes and canine “deposits." I have taken my daily stroll through our fair borough and am compelled to report on what I have observed. There is much to discuss, and I shall not spare the rod where it is deserved. Let's begin with compliments before criticism. It is only polite. The People : Friendly enough to make one briefly forget the chaos of the streets, at least until one tries to cross them (the streets, that is). The Shops and Restaurants : Small, independent, and utterly charming, each one a little jewel box of local ambition. The Atmosphere : A vibrancy that suggests a town quite pleased with itself, and not entirely without reason. Nature's Gifts : Our waterways, offering a moment of elegance amid the concrete and construction dust. The Hotel Project : Rising from industrial bones into something, one hopes, worth all the racket. The Habitat for Humanity B...

My Dear Columbia , The big story this week, as we all know, requires no reporting. The wind did the telling for us. Nonetheless, on Thursday afternoon, the 20th of August, a tornado rampaged through our borough, leaving damage in its wake.  The Columbia Borough Fire Department confirms this to be the first tornado ever recorded in our history. So, was it an anomaly, or, as certain circles believe, the new normal? Climate change? Time (and weather) will tell, as the saying goes. The particulars, as verified by the National Weather Service, are these: an EF-1 tornado, with winds of some 100 miles per hour, tore through Columbia. It ripped roofs from buildings, collapsed sections of a brick wall, felled outbuildings, and uprooted trees along its brief stay. Among the notable casualties: the old Keystone firehouse on 4th Street, which lost a portion of its second-story brick wall, and the neighboring office building, which was partially de-roofed. Numerous smaller structures and reside...

My dearest Columbia, What is there to say? It's been a difficult week, and this author will confess that she, too, has gone searching for comfort in whatever small corners it may be found: a strong cup of tea, a longer walk than usual, the quiet company of neighbors who understand without being told. I shall not go over the particulars of what has grieved us so; they are, frankly, too painful. But grief, if it is to mean anything, must eventually roll up its sleeves and get to work. And so we must. We must find solutions to keep our people safe. It is the very least a town owes itself. Fortunately, Columbia is not without its champions in this cause. A spirited group calling itself "Columbia Walks" has assembled, and taken up the banner of pedestrian safety. One hopes the council chambers are prepared for their persistence. Speaking of council chambers: a resident rose before the council this week and delivered a statement of such force and care that one imagines even the...

Dear Columbia , I have been pondering a question that arrived uninvited and has refused to leave, much like an uninvited guest at Christmas: What, precisely, is the song of Columbia? Many towns have been given their due in verse. Mr. Springsteen, for example, has written of Atlantic City. Mr. Joel sang of Allentown. Even towns smaller and less scenic than ours have found some troubadour willing to immortalize their streets. And yet Columbia still waits for her ballad. Let us consider, then, what such a song might contain. It would surely open upon the river herself, the town's leading lady whether she asked for the role or not: vast, shallow, and prone to dramatic flourishes. One does not simply omit the Susquehanna in a Columbia anthem. Verse two belongs to the town itself, that charm of a place where residents still know one's name and, regrettably, one's business. The antique shops sit hither and yon, but there is a romance to the streets. And here is where any honest so...