All Entries in the "Wish List" Category
Incredible Edible: Could it happen in Ferguson?
In the English town of Todmorden, residents grow vegetables for all to share.
Here in Ferguson, we have an award-winning farmers market, several vibrant community gardens, and the oldest organic farm in Missouri. Could this revolutionary project from England be the next step for us? Story by Vincent Graff of the Daily Mail…
Carrots in The Car Park. Radishes on the Roundabout. The Deliciously Eccentric Story of the Town Growing ALL its Own Veg
Admittedly, it sounds like the most foolhardy of criminal capers, and one of the cheekiest, too. Outside the police station in the small Victorian mill town of Todmorden, West Yorkshire, there are three large raised flower beds. If you’d visited a few months ago, you’d have found them overflowing with curly kale, carrot plants, lettuces, spring onions — all manner of vegetables and salad leaves.
Today the beds are bare. Why? Because people have been wandering up to the police station forecourt in broad daylight and digging up the vegetables. And what are the cops doing about this brazen theft from right under their noses? Nothing.
Well, that’s not quite correct. ‘I watch ’em on camera as they come up and pick them,’ says desk officer Janet Scott, with a huge grin. It’s the smile that explains everything.
For the vegetable-swipers are not thieves. The police station carrots — and thousands of vegetables in 70 large beds around the town — are there for the taking. Locals are encouraged to help themselves. A few tomatoes here, a handful of broccoli there. If they’re in season, they’re yours. Free.
So there are (or were) raspberries, apricots and apples on the canal towpath; blackcurrants, redcurrants and strawberries beside the doctor’s surgery; beans and peas outside the college; cherries in the supermarket car park; and mint, rosemary, thyme and fennel by the health centre.
The vegetable plots are the most visible sign of an amazing plan: to make Todmorden the first town in the country that is self-sufficient in food. ‘And we want to do it by 2018,’ says Mary Clear, 56, a grandmother of ten and co-founder of Incredible Edible, as the scheme is called. ‘It’s a very ambitious aim. But if you don’t aim high, you might as well stay in bed, mightn’t you?’
So what’s to stop me turning up with a huge carrier bag and grabbing all the rosemary in the town? ‘Nothing,’ says Mary.
What’s to stop me nabbing all the apples? ‘Nothing.’
All your raspberries? ‘Nothing.’
It just doesn’t happen like that, she says. ‘We trust people. We truly believe — we are witness to it — that people are decent.’
When she sees the Big Issue seller gathering fruit for his lunch, she feels only pleasure. What does it matter, argues Mary, if once in a while she turns up with her margarine tub to find that all the strawberries are gone? ‘This is a revolution,’ she says. ‘But we are gentle revolutionaries. Everything we do is underpinned by kindness.’
The idea came about after she and co-founder Pam Warhurst, the former owner of the town’s Bear Cafe, began fretting about the state of the world and wondered what they could do. They reasoned that all they could do is start locally, so they got a group of people, mostly women, together in the cafe.
‘Wars come about by men having drinks in bars, good things come about when women drink coffee together,’ says Mary. ‘Our thinking was: there’s so much blame in the world — blame local government, blame politicians, blame bankers, blame technology — we thought, let’s just do something positive instead.’
We’re standing by a car park in the town centre. Mary points to a housing estate up the hill. Her face lights up. ‘The children walk past here on the way to school. We’ve filled the flower beds with fennel and they’ve all been taught that if you bite fennel, it tastes like a liquorice gobstopper. When I see the children popping little bits of herb into their mouths, I just think it’s brilliant.’
She takes me over to the front garden of her own house, a few yards away. Three years ago, when Incredible Edible was launched, she did a very unusual thing: she lowered her front wall, in order to encourage passers-by to walk into her garden and help themselves to whatever vegetables took their fancy.
There were signs asking people to take something but it took six months for folk to ‘get it’, she says. They get it now. Obviously a few town-centre vegetable plants — even thousands of them — are not going to feed a community of 15,000 by themselves.
But the police station potatoes act as a recruiting sergeant — to encourage residents to grow their own food at home. Today, hundreds of townspeople who began by helping themselves to the communal veg are now well on the way to self-sufficiency. But out on the street, what gets planted where? There’s kindness even in that.
Incredible Edible is about more than plots of veg. It's about educating people about food, and stimulating the local economy (pictured Vincent Graff and Estelle)
‘The ticket man at the railway station, who was very much loved, was unwell. Before he died, we asked him: “What’s your favourite vegetable, Reg?” It was broccoli. So we planted memorial beds with broccoli at the station. One stop up the line, at Hebden Bridge, they loved Reg, too — and they’ve also planted broccoli in his memory.’
Not that all the plots are — how does one put this delicately? — ‘official’. Take the herb bushes by the canal. Owners British Waterways had no idea locals had been sowing plants there until an official inspected the area ahead of a visit by the Prince of Wales last year (Charles is a huge Incredible Edible fan).
Estelle Brown, a 67-year-old former interior designer who tended the plot, received an email from British Waterways. ‘I was a bit worried to open it,’ she says. ‘But it said: “How do you build a raised bed? Because my boss wants one outside his office window.”’
Incredible Edible is also about much more than plots of veg. It’s about educating people about food, and stimulating the local economy. There are lessons in pickling and preserving fruits, courses on bread-making, and the local college is to offer a BTEC in horticulture. The thinking is that young people who have grown up among the street veg may make a career in food.
Crucially, the scheme is also about helping local businesses. The Bear, a wonderful shop and cafe with a magnificent original Victorian frontage, sources all its ingredients from farmers within a 30-mile radius. There’s a brilliant daily market. People here can eat well on local produce, and thousands now do.
Meanwhile, the local school was recently awarded a £500,000 Lottery grant to set up a fish farm in order to provide food for the locals and to teach useful skills to young people. Jenny Coleman, 62, who retired here from London, explains: ‘We need something for our young people to do. If you’re an 18-year-old, there’s got to be a good answer to the question: why would I want to stay in Todmorden?’
The day I visit, the town is battered by a bitterly-cold rain storm. Yet the place radiates warmth. People speak to each other in the street, wave as neighbours drive past, smile. If the phrase hadn’t been hijacked, the words ‘we’re all in this together’ would spring to mind.
So what sort of place is Todmorden (known locally, without exception, as ‘Tod’)? If you’re assuming it’s largely peopled by middle-class grandmothers, think again. Nor is this place a mecca for the gin-and-Jag golf club set. Set in a Pennine valley — once, the road through the town served as the border between Yorkshire and Lancashire — it is a vibrant mix of age, class and ethnicity.
A third of households do not own a car; a fifth do not have central heating. You can snap up a terrace house for £50,000 — or spend close to £1 million on a handsome stone villa with seven bedrooms. And the scheme has brought this varied community closer together, according to Pam Warhurst.
Take one example. ‘The police have told us that, year on year, there has been a reduction in vandalism since we started,’ she says. ‘We weren’t expecting this.’ So why has it happened?
Pam says: ‘If you take a grass verge that was used as a litter bin and a dog toilet and turn it into a place full of herbs and fruit trees, people won’t vandalise it. I think we are hard-wired not to damage food.’ Pam reckons a project like Incredible Edible could thrive in all sorts of places. ‘If the population is very transient, it’s difficult. But if you’ve got schools, shops, back gardens and verges, you can do it.’
Similar schemes are being piloted in 21 other towns in the UK, and there’s been interest shown from as far afield as Spain, Germany, Hong Kong and Canada. And, this week, Mary Clear gave a talk to an all-party group of MPs at Westminster.
Todmorden was visited by a planner from New Zealand, working on the rebuilding of his country after February’s earthquake. Mary says: ‘He went back saying: “Why wouldn’t we rebuild the railway station with pick-your-own herbs? Why wouldn’t we rebuild the health centre with apple trees?”
‘What we’ve done is not clever. It just wasn’t being done.’
The final word goes to an outsider. Joe Strachan is a wealthy U.S. former sales director who decided to settle in Tod with his Scottish wife, after many years in California. He is 61 but looks 41. He became active with Incredible Edible six months ago, and couldn’t be happier digging, sowing and juicing fruit.
I find myself next to him, sheltering from the driving rain. Why, I ask, would someone forsake the sunshine of California for all this? His answer sums up what the people around here have achieved.
‘There’s a nobility to growing food and allowing people to share it. There’s a feeling we’re doing something significant rather than just moaning that the state can’t take care of us. ‘Maybe we all need to learn to take care of ourselves.’
For more info about this innovative program, visit the Incredible Edible website.
Ferguson created a “Better Block.” What now?
Ah, the joys of a flea market! Could this be the next big thing in Ferguson?
Well, the Better Block Project came and went this weekend, drawing a steady stream of visitors to downtown Ferguson. Several temporary businesses and sidewalk vendors sprouted up for the day, including my own little antique store, Raw, which nearly sold out! Thank to you all the NOCO fans who came to shop. It was so great to meet you and to send you home with some fun new treasures!
Many of you asked me if I plan to open a real store in the future, and for the time being the answer is no. But I have to say, I did find the whole experience super enjoyable and now I’m inspired to keep the ball rolling…
When I lived in Los Angeles, one of my favorite haunts was the Rose Bowl Flea Market, a massive monthly event that draws upward of 15,000 shoppers. Just like our own Gypsy Caravan here in St. Louis, the Rose Bowl hosts hundreds of independent vendors selling an absolutely staggering variety of furniture, antiques, vintage clothing and handmade items. High-end decorators shop there. So do artists, Hollywood set designers and all manner of people looking for great deals on unique and recycled finds.
Over its 40-year-history, the Rose Bowl Flea Market has become a true destination, not to mention a powerful economic driver for the city of Pasadena. It allows regular people who can’t afford to open a shop the perfect venue for selling their items – a particular boon during this changing economy. More importantly, it’s a blast!
Flea markets bring communities together and encourage people to get creative (and go green) rather than always buying something brand new. Which is why I’m just gonna jump right in and say it….I think it’s time for a flea market in Ferguson!
Sure, the idea has been kicked around before but it has never really gained any traction. Apparently some residents think it might “junk up” the area and attract the “wrong” kind of people, which of course is bunk. Properly organized, with an emphasis on antiques and artisan items, a monthly flea market could be a HUGE success, drawing an eclectic mix of shoppers from all over the St. Louis area, including folks who would probably never come to North County otherwise.
Those people will eat at our restaurants, see our beautiful neighborhoods and hopefully go away with a more positive view of Ferguson. It’s a win-win. So what do you think, NOCO fans? I’m in if you are! I’ll even volunteer to organize the flea market, just as long as the city green-lights it.
If you have any interest in being a potential vendor, please leave a comment below or shoot me an email at shannon@NOCOstl.com with “flea market” in the subject line. I’d just like to gauge the general interest before I actually start to dive in. Thanks again!
My NoCo Christmas Wish: a soapbox derby
Dear Santa, please bring a fabulous soapbox derby like this to FloTown.
A few weeks ago, I was taking pictures in Old Town Florissant when inspiration struck. It was a Sunday afternoon and there was so little traffic on rue St. Francois that I literally could have laid down on the street. What a shame, I thought. Here’s this great little business district with so much charm and potential, and yet it feels almost lifeless. Then I looked at rue St. Francois again, noticing its gently sloping hill and ample sidewalks, and I realized, holy cow, this is absolutely perfect for a soapbox derby!
Of course, as soon as I thought that, I could already hear the groans from certain people in Florissant, namely those who think the city’s best hope is to attract more senior citizens. So let me go on record right now… As a marketing professional and someone who has been deeply involved in Ferguson’s ongoing revitalization, I think this strategy is a terrible idea!
FloTown does NOT need more quilt shops or tea rooms or “quaint” places that cater primarily to old folks and/or red hat ladies. What it needs is youth and energy, and a sense of freshness and fun! It needs to honor its rich history while also planting the seeds for a more vibrant future, and I believe that a unique new community event, specifically an artists’ soapbox derby, could help to achieve that.
In New York, the historic city of Kingston has been holding its Artists’ Soapbox Derby for the past 16 years, drawing thousands of on-lookers. Local artists (as well as kids and families) build whimsical, non-motorized vehicles in the shape of just about anything, then drive them through the heart of town like in a parade. Winners are chosen based not on speed, but on creativity and ingenuity.
Over the years, entries have included toasters, oil cans, grocery carts, dragons, ice cream trucks, you name it…all lovingly built by local residents. And guess what? By hosting an artists’ soapbox derby, Kingston has successfully attracted more artists and arts-related businesses to its Rondout business district. Also lots of tourists.
But that’s New York, you may say. And I agree, there are differences. But I also recall a recent study done by the John S. and James L. Knight Foundation, which polled 43,000 Americans in 26 cities to find out what makes people feel connected to a community, basically what makes them want to move in and stay. The results might surprise you.
The number one quality that draws people to a community is not schools. It’s social and cultural activities, including vibrant nightlife, festivals, and a sense that residents care about one another. Number two: openness, as in the perception that all people (including gays & minorities) are welcome. And number three: aesthetics, particularly with respect to parks, trails and green spaces.
The study also found that a strong sense of community spirit may actually affect local economic growth. And what better way to boost community spirit than by bringing people together for a fun event that celebrates their creativity and engages them in helping to move their city forward?
So Florissant, how about that soapbox derby? I bet even Santa thinks it’s time for a new tradition in FloTown…
My NoCo Christmas Wish: a unique music & movie venue
Dear Santa, please let this eclectic school-turned-hotel in Portland, Oregon, serve as a model for creative revitalization in North County.
For nearly 30 years beginning in the 1970s, the historic neighborhoods of northeast Portland, Oregon, showed all the tell-tale signs of a community in decline. Housing values dropped, businesses got seedier, and the local grade school – a community landmark since 1915 – closed its doors and eventually was abandoned, causing many families to move away.
Northeast Portland became the part of town you’d avoid. There’s nothing left up there, people would say. But where most of Portland saw a fading, hopeless suburb wedged grimly between downtown and the airport, Mike and Brian McMenamin saw an opportunity. The owners of several popular brewpubs in the area (including the first one in the state of Oregon), the brothers came up with a creative plan to not only reinvigorate Northeast Portland but also to celebrate one of its finest assets: that beautiful, abandoned, circa 1915 grade school.
Whimsical paintings by local artists enliven nearly every wall at the Kennedy School in Portland.
Threatened with demolition, the elegant, Italian Renaissance-style “Kennedy School” had been saved by a coalition of local residents, former students and past PTA presidents when the McMenamins presented their plan for its revival. Following an exhaustive restoration incorporating the work of dozens of local artists and craftspeople, the brothers were determined to reinstate the school’s role as a busy, multi-use hub for the local community. They also wanted it to be a unique, memorable destination for visitors to Portland.
In their bold, way-outside-the-box vision, thirty five former classrooms would become boutique hotel suites, complete with original chalkboards and coat rooms. The old auditorium would be converted into an art house movie theater, served by the cafeteria-turned-restaurant next door. Several school rooms, including the former girls’ lavatory, would become cozy little pubs and cigar lounges serving McMenamin’s beer. Even the gymnasium would rise again, still as a classic locale for wedding receptions, but also as a lively spot for neighborhood basketball games, community meetings, blood drives, live concerts, and more.
Formerly the Kennedy School's cafeteria, the Courtyard Restaurant is now a hip Portland eatery that's jam-packed on weekends.
It was quite a diverse business model, and it worked. Because since the Kennedy School re-opened in 1997, the McMenamins have definitely exceeded their goals. Thousands of guests have stayed at their one-of-a-kind hotel, and even more have patronized its pubs, restaurants and theater. The reborn school has also provided an enormous economic and social boost for Northeast Portland, serving as a vibrant local hive where neighbors come together and where something fun is always on the calendar.
I tell you about the Kennedy School because it’s an amazing, magical place that I will never forget. Honestly, the McMenamins are two of my biggest heroes and I’m inspired by all of their fabulous brewpubs. I also tell you about the Kennedy School because I believe it’s exactly the type of brave, creative, lemons-to-lemonade project that North County desperately needs.
When you really start weighing our assets, we have no shortage of vintage buildings sitting empty or underutilized in NoCo, especially old schools. Off the top of my head, I can think of the former Masonic lodge in Ferguson, Storman-Stufflin School on Chambers, and St. Aloysius Church and School in Spanish Lake. Who knows how many more we’ll have as Catholic grade schools continue to close.
At the same time, North County also has a dire need for a decent live music venue – a hall with great character and good acoustics where maybe 200-300 people could enjoy an eclectic (and yes, even hip) mix of performers. If that same venue also housed an independent movie theater, I know I’m not the only North Countian who would be mighty pleased.
Sometimes a movie theater, sometimes a concert venue, the Kennedy School's converted auditorium is a community hot spot.
Now, I know what you’re saying…North County is no Portland! And I know that. But if the McMenamins’ successful concoction of beer, culture and community could turn around working-class Northeast Portland, who’s to say that it couldn’t work here as well, if even on a smaller scale? For once, why couldn’t North County be the place to embrace something truly special and progressive, something that would change minds and start drawing more folks northward?
We’ve got the buildings. We’ve got the artists. And we certainly have the people who love beer. Just imagine: North County as a destination.
That is my NoCo Christmas wish. Santa, I hope you’re reading…
(If you are reading, dear NOCO fan, don’t forget to vote in my new poll! It’s in the sidebar on the right.)
