To Sam Speck, Director, Ohio Department of Natural Resources dnrmail@dnr.state.oh.us (See Visiting Edgewater Park will cost you here) Dear Sam Speck: You and your department are to be congratulated. You have joined the movement. Columbus seems intent on the complete disenfranchisement of all its tax-paying citizens. The latest decision by your department - to charge parking fees, and exorbitant ones at that - for access to public parks, parks supported by citizens' tax dollars, surely must take its place at the top of the list, well not quite the top: Mr. Blackwell's myriad and arcane decisions regarding voter rights in the 2004 elections still have you beaten - but not by much. Here is what we wonder: when the parking fee - in effect an access ban - takes effect, who will come to the parks? "Oh", you say, "campers, fishermen, sportsmen -- loyal citizens and unwitting touristas who realize or benightedly accept that $5 is a reasonable sanction to pay for a romp in nature." So you might say; we disagree. For those of us who are citizens in a state that has suffered embarrassing job and industry losses in the past few years; in a state where the legislature still can't seem to understand how to follow court orders on how to pay for schools; in a state that thinks higher education is a luxury; in a state that has a deteriorating environment and overall quality of life; in a state that thinks the Academic Bill of Rights is an expression and protection of freedom; in a state that believes The Ohio Patriot Act is good constitutional legislation, $5 is not reasonable - it is obscene. Who will come to the parks? Well, are you taking charge cards? Maybe then the working poor and the strapped middle class can afford to use their high-interest bits of plastic so that they can park in the pothole-ridden, poorly-cambered, and badly-delineated lots "maintained" by the state -- so that they can enjoy a small part of the state in which they used to live but in which they now survive. Who comes to the parks? We guess it depends on what park we are talking about -- because surely some Ohio state parks are seasonal recreations sites and probably have heavy traffic in the finer seasons (or the seasons to which they cater), but less so in the more rigorous ones (or the ones which don't fit their particular themes). But suppose we are talking about parks like Edgewater Park in Cleveland? Who comes to this park? All sorts of people - and all year long. Fisherman, couples, families, nature aficionados, walkers, runners, kite flyers, skaters, amateur astronomers who gaze at heavenly happenings from the telescopes they set up in the parking lots -- and those of us who love to watch the lake. Swimmers come here too, so do surfers and sailors and windsurfers and hang gliders; people who play soccer, football, and softball - and high school kids who run cross country meets - we have our share of just about every type of recreational sport - and they happen in all seasons. Edgewater is not a seasonal park. It is not just a recreation site either. It is only a few miles from the center of Cleveland, and many, many people come to this park for lunch or dinner. One constant in the unconscious common thread of life of the city of Cleveland has been this: Edgewater is always there and always available (except after 11PM at night, of course...) At Edgewater, you can get take-out or pack you own feast, and be at the tranquil lakeside within minutes after leaving your downtown work site or your urban home. You can sit outside and enjoy the lake air, or you can stay in your car, play some tunes, and watch the lake and the birds and the people. You can watch storms come across the lake to the land; lightening playing magnificently on the waves, waterspouts swirl past the shoreline, or blue skies and soft winds and strong breezes -- the weather is always mesmerizing at the lakefront. You can go without food and walk away your woes or sit on the rocks and give you troubles, if not to the river, then to the lake. You can go for lonely reasons, happy reasons, or just the sheer joy of going to the park. You can reconnect, Mr. Speck; you can take a break and get back to even. You can gain, from the visit to Edgewater, a respite from the stress and unrelenting and rushing madness that is the American workday - well, the workday for the likes of us, perhaps your workday is different. Go ahead with your plans, Mr. Speck. You have, not our blessings, but our unrelenting disapproval. You may feel that these two sentences don't follow logically upon each other -- but this is what many American citizens have come to expect from the governments that "represent" them. Not public servants elected or appointed and expected to do the will of citizens, to protect our environments, to watch over our common safety, and to ensure our common happiness and well-being. We now realize that if we let our government officials know that we approve of a certain action, the opposite will be taken. So go ahead with your plans; our concerns and desires don't matter to you. One last question: Who got the contract?
from Cool Cleveland readers Christine Sell and James Hilliard csell@stratos.net
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