Now Entering the Entryway Debate

Some Cedar Rapids City Council members are worried about the city's curb appeal.

They're concerned that we've put out tattered welcome mats at Cedar Rapids' various front doors. They're convinced folks driving inbound on I-380 or U.S. 30 will detect a sense of ingress malaise. Our entryways, they contend, are not beckoning passersbyers to become stay-a-whilers.

They'd like to use some of the 1 percent portion of city building project budgets that will now be set aside for “visual enhancements” to help put a better face forward. On the surface, it seems like a swell idea.

Still, thinking back to all the places I've lived in Iowa, towns big and small, I can't remember a single municipal gateway that grabbed me, pulled me off the road and shook money from my pockets.

I remember farms and industrial sites and gas stations. I recall cemeteries and car dealerships and strip malls. In the Midwest, these are the kinds of things you encounter on the outskirts.

Of course, big cities have an advantage over their smaller cousins. There's the moment when you crest that big hill on northbound I-35W and first see the Minneapolis skyline in the distance. St. Louis has its arch. Denver has the Rockies. You're someplace.

That doesn't mean other places are no places. Their charms are more subtle. Unless they go over the top.

Maybe I-380 drivers could enter Cedar Rapids through the middle of a giant Kolache. Perhaps a massive, lighted, pulsating Crunch Berry could adorn Mount Trashmore. Or visitors could be greeted by a giant Mayor Ron Corbett with an outstretched, pointing finger: “You must promise to create this many jobs before entering the city.”

Seriously, I think our visual enhancements would be better appreciated by folks who already took the exit and put down roots. Why not first improve the way things look where your citizens live?

The flood zone might be a good place to start. Some thoughtful visual enhancements could help boost the morale of residents who returned and show that the city still values its historic but scarred core neighborhoods.

Right now, the city and residents can't even keep up with all the tall weeds springing from rutted and torn-up lots were houses once stood. It's sort of hard to think about sprucing up entryways when the interior still needs a lot of work.

In Detroit, for example, small-scale art projects are helping breathe some life back into neighborhoods hit by an economic disaster. Perhaps that's something to think about here.

Or the big Crunch Berry. Whatever works.

Comments: (319) 398-8452; todd.dorman@gazcomm.com