THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, July 12, 1995 TAG: 9507110011
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A14 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Letter
LENGTH: Medium: 61 lines
Quick quiz: Everyone who knows where the Suncoast is, raise your hand. The answer will unfold as the lesson continues.
When we moved to Virginia Beach in 1975, I started a little game which continues to this day. Whenever anyone asks me where I'm from, I say, ``Virginia Beach,'' and wait. Blank stare and, if they're really curious, eventually, ``Where's that?'' Those who guess are about equally split between California, Florida and Virginia. Those who really know usually have a Navy or an Edgar Cayce connection. All of which brings us to a Tale of Two Cities.
Many years ago, Norfolk was perceived as a dirty old port-cum-Navy town, complete with signs about sailors and dogs. Its general image was negative to say the least.
Some miles south, Tampa was perceived as a dirty old port town where ``furriners'' made cigars. Its image was equally negative. The good people of Pinellas County, St. Petersburg and the shore towns, seeking to separate themselves from this bad image, invented the Suncoast. Over the past 30-plus years, they've spent millions promoting the name. Results, practically nil.
They even had a national-class drum and bugle corps touring the country as ambassadors. Its name, The Suncoast Sound, elicited only a ``Where's that?'' if it elicited anything at all. Again, guessers were evenly split between Florida and California. So they added ``Florida's Suncoast Sound.''
``Where's that?'' Big state, long coastline - the Suncoast could be anywhere within 1,000 miles or so. Finally, almost by accident, they hit on, ``Tampa Bay's Suncoast Sound.'' Success! Recognition was immediate and complete. People's geography might be somewhat slippery; their notion of where in Florida Tampa actually is rather dim; but that's all right. They're heard of Tampa and they're comfortable that they've got it pegged.
Back home in Virginia Beach, if I start giving clues like, ``mouth of the Chesapeake Bay,'' ``corner of Chesapeake Bay and the Atlantic Ocean,'' I get the same blank stare - and I haven't even tried ``Virginia's waterfront!'' But the minute I say it's next to Norfolk, the switch closes, the light goes on: ``Oh. OK.'' They've got it pegged.
The reason Charlotte and Atlanta have such strong recognition is that they've always promoted the central city. Again, despite millions spent on promotion, I'd wager that regional names like ``Research Triangle'' and ``Piedmont Triad'' fade very rapidly with distance. It's almost inside jargon.
So it is - and will ever be - with Tidewater, Peninsula, Eastern Shore and Hampton Roads. If Hampton Roads stirs anything at all, it's either a dim school-day memory about the Merrimac and Monitor or confusion with an expressway - ``Oh, yeah, it's up there near the Jersey Turnpike, isn't it?''
Unless and until the citizens and politicians forget their small jealousies and large egos, quit demanding individual glory instead of regional recognition and prosperity and promote Norfolk in large type - Greater Norfolk, Metro Norfolk, Norfolk Harbor - we'll waste millions vainly seeking recognition and 30 years from now people will still be saying, ``Uh, where's that?''
G. W. FLEMING
Virginia Beach, July 3, 1995 by CNB