Jan 07 2009
Yelling Fire in an Empty Theatre
I come from a small town in Northwest Florida. You’ve probably never heard of Milton; you’re more familiar with tourist towns like Panama City, Destin, and Pensacola. Milton is an hour or so west of Destin and half an hour east from Pensacola. It’s a relatively quiet, rural town with lots of Baptist churches and goat fields. I’ve lived here most of my life.
As a young person I struggle with my relationship to my home town. I left to go to college, but after I obtained my degree I moved back. Now I’m working on another degree, and I’m sure I’ll move again. But as certain as I am that I’ll leave the area, I know I will come back again and again. As stifling as it is, I just can’t stay away.
One source of my pride in Milton comes from its rich history. While many of the things that have happened here are unpleasant (slave ownership and stripping of natural resources leap to mind), the journey is important, and there is much to be learned from one’s history.
Milton has burned down at least three times. One fire started at the mills. The Great Fire of 1909 (we’re just weeks away from its anniversary) started in a local church. The most recent one happened last night, in the historical district. It started shortly before 7 PM, and the high winds outside whipped it into a frenzy. The fire fighters managed to save the Imogene Theater, for the most part (it may not be structurally sound after all the water damage from containing the fire). Several lawyers lost their offices, and the Professional Mall building across from the courthouse is completely destroyed. Mercifully the only injury was a fireman’s heat exhaustion, and he is expected to recover in due time.
Fire is a thorough and devastating force. It’s tragic that it consumed the most delightful part of my town, especially in the midst of the recent revival in the area. But we can rebuild the buildings that are gone. And hopefully the Imogene (formerly the Milton Opera House, established in 1912 for vaudeville acts) will withstand this disaster with minimal refurbishment.
What really gets my goat is not the fire, but the reaction to it. It’s bad enough that the ghouls all crawled out of the woodwork to watch the flames and take pictures as a hundred years of history went up in smoke. Morbidity sickens me, but it’s not the first time I’ve seen it. No, the people who say that the fire was a good thing are the ones who upset me the most. Someone actually sent in an electronic editorial to the Pensacola News Journal saying that it’s about time we knocked down those old buildings so we could widen the highway.
Yes, these historical buildings abut a two-lane street, and yes, during rush hour, things get kind of slow there. This is a small town, and braving a little traffic, honestly, is a lot less important to me than maintaining a point of pride in Milton. I love the little restaurants and shops downtown, and I love that they can exist inside the brick buildings that stood here one hundred years ago. Four-lanes of traffic aren’t nearly as picturesque.
The fire fighters and the storm last night managed to subdue the fire. That part is over. All that is left now is to side-step the naysayers and rebuild, restore, refurbish, and move on. If you need us, the goat and I will be downtown with hammers.
