Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: FRIDAY, March 9, 1990 TAG: 9003091771
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: B1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Ed Shamy
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
Do you truthfully care if they change the shape of your congressional district? Will it affect your life?
Be honest and quit trying to sound educated. The answer is no.
But there is more to life than congressional districts.
There is honor, which has nothing whatsoever to do with Congress.
And there is honor at stake with this census.
If we can believe the U.S. Bureau of the Census, and we have precious little choice, Roanoke was the 175th largest city in the country in 1986. These figures do not reflect the Roanoke Valley or Bonsack.
It is a respectable position - certainly not the top dog, but a mighty enough number to appear significant.
One hundred and seventy-five. I like it.
But we don't get to keep our title if our population doesn't keep pace with other cities'.
We will slip perhaps to the dreaded 180s if we are not careful.
That would mean falling behind Hayward, Calif., which is ranked at 176.
Hayward is just a handful of human beings behind us, and the 1990 census could change all of that.
Hayward could fall back dramatically. Or it could mount a charge and try to rush past Roanoke.
Over my dead body, which would not help Roanoke's head count.
Hayward, you see, is home to an annual zucchini festival featuring the obligatory "tantalizing zucchini dishes."
The city has a noise ordinance that has had the sad side effect of prompting some pilots flying into Hayward Air Terminal to turn their engines so low that their airplanes drop from the sky. Silently, one would hope.
Hayward has the only authentic Portuguese park in the United States, which makes it a priority on my vacation list.
Hayward boasts itself as "The Heart of the Bay," which means the city is unmatched for gall.
Across the bay to the west is a small suburb of Hayward, a city called San Francisco. Yet here is Hayward, that little bedroom community, brazenly proclaiming itself the heart of the bay. The pancreas, maybe. Spleen. But no heart. Sorry, bub.
Oakland and Berkeley are to the north. Most of the other cities nearby are called San Something-or-other.
This is, of course, the high-rent district. Your average house in Hayward ("The Esophagus of the Bay") costs $175,000, hardly within reach of your average apricot-picker.
Enough. We could go on forever with our Hayward-bashing.
I am pleading with you. Convince grandmother to move into Roanoke. Conceive, incubate and give birth to triplets by April 1.
The shape of our congressional district doesn't matter. But honor does.
We must out-populate Hayward, Calif.
Better dead than 176th. Don't bury me in a Portuguese park.
Monday's topic: Brownsville, Texas, Number 174.
by CNB