Anyone who has lived in Chesterfield long knows that those of us who live south of Hull Street Road - in the oldest parts of the County - are always at the end of the line for new amenities.
If there's only enough money for one new high school, it goes to build a new Clover Hill, not to take the pressure off Thomas Dale. If someone has to wait in line for adequate library facilities, it's Enon. It's an old tale, but at this juncture, it might finally be our turn.
Thomas Dale is crammed to the bursting point, and with the flood of new residents which will inevitably accompany the expansion of Fort Lee, the need for an additional high school in southeastern Chesterfield is manifest. The County has its eyes on a school located near the new Branner Station development - to open in 2015. That's about five years too late - and completely useless to Enon.
Already, Enon is becoming more and more an island - cut off from the rest of the County by both the morning and afternoon rush hours. What was once an easy drive is now a hellish commute, and this will only get worse as Enon's population grows.
What Enon needs is not a high school on the far side of Chester, six years from now. Enon needs its own high school, now.
Moreover, Enon needs a high school built to a human scale - not one of Chesterfield's super-sized monster schools. The research is overwhelming that the right size for a comprehensive high school is one which serves 1000 students. And that's exactly what Enon needs: A 1000-student school with a compact footprint - set on perhaps 30 - 35 acres of land.
And there's a way to do that quickly, while saving money for all concerned.
In coming weeks, I intend to set forth a plan for a new Enon high school which would not only be right-sized, but which could serve as a laboratory for Chesterfield in redesigning schools to serve students - rather than the administrative convenience of the Central Office and the financial interests of the big developers.
Please feel free to offer your feedback as this vision unfolds. And don't forget to pass the link to this blog along to those who miss my column in the Village News.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
A New View
This spring, along with a greatly expanded garden, I'm working on a project to transform our riverbank - opening up our view of the James River and of Shirley Plantation on the Charles City side.
It's a long-term project. As with medicine, the first priority in removing vegetation from any area is to do no harm. On a riverbank, this becomes particularly critical. Trees, shrubs and other vegetation produce roots which hold the soil against erosion. Thus, this vegetation become, - both legally and morally - sacred. Clear-cutting a riverbank is an invitation to disaster.
What I've been doing, instead, is introducing new vegetation which should do a better job of holding the banks together. I've started by replacing scrub trees with Bar Harbor juniper, a lovely cousin of the cedar, which grows horizontally, spreading over perhaps eight feet but reaching a height of only twelve inches.
This curious growth pattern strikes me as having two great advantages. First, juniper is unlikely to blow over in a powerful storm. At Bermuda Hundred, the James is nearly a mile wide, and storm winds can whip across it with enormous force, toppling trees along the waterline. We lost dozens of river-front trees during Hurricane Isabel, and we lose one or two more every spring and summer. Every such loss opens a whole in the riverbank, exposing a new area to erosion.
Low-growing juniper can put down good roots to hold the bank, but, growing horizontally, it can't blow over. Over time, I hope to replace a good many vulnerable trees with juniper and other low-profile plants.
The second advantage of juniper is that it doesn't block the view. And that, too, is part of my project - to open up the view from our house, for our neighbors up the road, and for those intrepid visitors whose passion for colonial or Civil War history leads them to Bermuda Hundred.
We started working on the riverbank last summer, hiring a very capable young man with deep roots of his own in Bermuda Hundred. Every few months, he'll clear a small section of vines, brush and fallen trees. Last fall, he worked directly in front of our house. This week, he was back, with a friend, to clear another small section farther north. As usual, the impact was dramatic. For the first time in decades, you can see the James River in front of you as you drive into the village of Bermuda Hundred.
This little improvement coincides with another, more dramatic, change. Last week, the folks at Philip Morris' Park 500 complex removed a quarter-mile of vine-covered security fence along Bermuda Hundred Road. Suddenly, our neighbors up the road regained their view of open fields, the trees along the canal, and, in the distance, Presque Isle.
The removal of the fence was necessitated by a project - paid for my Philip Morris - to bring County water to Bermuda Hundred. But, according to Philip Morris, the fence will stay down.
It's a long-term project. As with medicine, the first priority in removing vegetation from any area is to do no harm. On a riverbank, this becomes particularly critical. Trees, shrubs and other vegetation produce roots which hold the soil against erosion. Thus, this vegetation become, - both legally and morally - sacred. Clear-cutting a riverbank is an invitation to disaster.
What I've been doing, instead, is introducing new vegetation which should do a better job of holding the banks together. I've started by replacing scrub trees with Bar Harbor juniper, a lovely cousin of the cedar, which grows horizontally, spreading over perhaps eight feet but reaching a height of only twelve inches.
This curious growth pattern strikes me as having two great advantages. First, juniper is unlikely to blow over in a powerful storm. At Bermuda Hundred, the James is nearly a mile wide, and storm winds can whip across it with enormous force, toppling trees along the waterline. We lost dozens of river-front trees during Hurricane Isabel, and we lose one or two more every spring and summer. Every such loss opens a whole in the riverbank, exposing a new area to erosion.
Low-growing juniper can put down good roots to hold the bank, but, growing horizontally, it can't blow over. Over time, I hope to replace a good many vulnerable trees with juniper and other low-profile plants.
The second advantage of juniper is that it doesn't block the view. And that, too, is part of my project - to open up the view from our house, for our neighbors up the road, and for those intrepid visitors whose passion for colonial or Civil War history leads them to Bermuda Hundred.
We started working on the riverbank last summer, hiring a very capable young man with deep roots of his own in Bermuda Hundred. Every few months, he'll clear a small section of vines, brush and fallen trees. Last fall, he worked directly in front of our house. This week, he was back, with a friend, to clear another small section farther north. As usual, the impact was dramatic. For the first time in decades, you can see the James River in front of you as you drive into the village of Bermuda Hundred.
This little improvement coincides with another, more dramatic, change. Last week, the folks at Philip Morris' Park 500 complex removed a quarter-mile of vine-covered security fence along Bermuda Hundred Road. Suddenly, our neighbors up the road regained their view of open fields, the trees along the canal, and, in the distance, Presque Isle.
The removal of the fence was necessitated by a project - paid for my Philip Morris - to bring County water to Bermuda Hundred. But, according to Philip Morris, the fence will stay down.
For all of us in Bermuda Hundred, this spring brings a new view - of both cultivated and natural beauty. It's exciting to be part of it.
Which brings me to this new blog.
Last October, I took an indefinite break from my column for the Village News. At the time, my plans were uncertain. All I knew for sure was that I had run out of words. I wanted to write about many things, but the presidential campaign kept intruding on my thoughts.
I found the 2008 campaign heartbreaking in the extreme. A great American, a patriot and hero whom I've supported for years - despite serious policy differences - ran a campaign which tarnished his wonderful record of public service.
His opponent, a bright young man with whom I agreed on many things - but who possessed only a small fraction of the experience necessary to govern effectively - ran a brilliant campaign which, nonetheless, struck me as heavy on symbolism and almost devoid of content.
Most of my friends - including nearly all of those whose political ideas I shared - supported Senator Obama. I supported Senator McCain - even agreeing to serve as Chair of Virginia's "Citizens for McCain" team.
And, as I have often noted in politics, actively supporting the wrong candidate can cost you.
Some months after the election, I approached the Village News about resuming my column. After several conversations, I have reluctantly reached the conclusion that this will not be possible. I wish the paper and the Fausz family well, but we appear to have reached a parting of the ways.
Thus - for me as for Bermuda Hundred - this week brings a new view. For those who miss my old column, its successor will, for the foreseeable future, appear on this blog.
When you discover Gray's Bermuda Gazette, I hope you will pass the link along to friends who have been readers in the past, as well as those who might be interested in joining us. If you know an older reader unfamiliar with the blog-world, please consider printing out a copy for him or her.
Having no editor holding a deadline over my head, I can't promise absolutely to provide weekly installments. That said, I hope you will check in at least every Wednesday to see - and that you'll feel free to comment.
Thank you. It's good to be back!
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