THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, May 14, 1995 TAG: 9505120179
SECTION: SUFFOLK SUN PAGE: 06 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Editorial
SOURCE: John Pruitt
LENGTH: Medium: 73 lines
Suppose your company placed you on a team whose job was to convince a prospective employee that, although there are possibilities in other, better known, places, Suffolk is the right choice.
Assume, too, that the prospect is young, willing to move and so fits your team's criteria that he/she seems to have been the template for your ideal candidate. Trouble is, teams elsewhere seem to have used the same mold. So you've got to outsell others holding what real estate investors would call the trump card: location.
Suffolk isn't Atlanta or Charleston. It isn't Norfolk or Virginia Beach, either. While it may be a drawback in terms of instant familiarity, it also shifts the focus to potential.
Suffolk isn't Charleston, with its richly preserved Southern traditions. But there's a renaissance of sorts taking place here, its unlikely catalyst being a fire that nearly claimed the familiar railroad depot on the approach to downtown. The city has applied for a federal grant, but there's also a determined corps of boosters who say the restoration will go on - with or without the grant.
Why, only Saturday they sponsored a ``Save Our Station Day'' that unified people from all over who treasure the old structure.
Beyond that, these preservationists say they'll press forward as deliberately as Sherman tramped through Georgia, but with the goal of saving historic relics instead of leveling them. Sherman apparently did not encounter the likes of this iron-willed bunch, or his legacy would have been much different.
This determination gets at another element of Suffolk's heritage, its ties to the land. Even though it's Virginia's largest city in land area, it's still largely rural. In some sections of its vastness, you can ride for acres and acres between houses, and you're as likely to spot deer alongside the road as you are a slow-moving tractor.
Suffolk is not a city in a rush. I like it that way, and I've gotten so used to it that it's no wonder I get obscene gestures or bone-chilling looks when I fail to react the second a traffic light changes in Norfolk or another city. What's the hurry?
Admittedly, this pace sometimes impedes progress. There certainly are those of us who sigh when a city councilman begins a statement by recalling the way things were when Suffolk was a pea of a city surrounded by a crater of a county.
That's not to say Suffolk doesn't have its contemporary problems. Except in the eyes of those who've always lived here, it's so apparently a city of haves and have-nots. That's even reflected, generally, in crime statistics - the haves just don't have the same peace-shattering concerns as the have-nots.
Most challenging of all, perhaps, is Suffolk's future role in Hampton Roads, a role that already is being reflected in seemingly overnight appearance of full subdivisions, in the way businesses are looking at the city's open land; in the way what once were meandering, sparsely traveled rural roads are being filled by traffic.
And still, you can take a ride within close proximity of downtown and be in the midst of lush farmland. Or you can drive less than 30 minutes to Norfolk and be amidst a screaming crowd of hockey fans in Scope or wine-sipping yuppies in Ghent.
If all this talk doesn't quite do the trick, pull the punches. Take the applicant to the Peanut Shoppe on West Washington Street. Have the visitor fill his nostrils with the rich aroma of roasting peanuts and introduce him to Mr. Blevins who, besides dishing out goodies, can fill the visitor in on the news or make him groan with a terrible, sweet joke.
There is potential here, my friend.
Comment? Call 446-2494. by CNB