Public Funds

Letter to the Editor, Published Needham Chronicle, July 22, 1993

As a California native, I've grown accustomed to seeing construction in the streets and the feeling of knowing that the local infrastructure would be improved by it. The end result of such activity is that some drain, pipe, wire, cable or whatever beneath the street will be repaired or extended and that the street surface will be returned to its original condition when the underground work is done. However, in Needham, and apparently the rest of Massachusetts as well, encountering a similar construction site evokes a completely different feeling. Independent of whatever improvements may occur beneath the ground, I can be assured that the street will never be the same again. It is certain that a new unevenness and poor quality in the pavement will result which will eventually be the site of progressive decay as the weather takes its toll. Such a site is Cedar St. near the Needham/Wellesley line where the pavement has come to resemble a cobblestone street over a plowed field. A place where I'll never find such difficulty lies at the foot of my own driveway, which during rain or snow melt or when my neighbor flushes his car radiator comes to resemble a small pond. Yet, I'm told that should I want a storm drain here, I should have the privilege of paying for it myself. No matter that it is on a city street or that the ensuing stretch of ice-covered pavement may be a public hazard; the city of Needham has no interest in draining the depression. Should it someday occur that a storm drain be installed there, I can be assured that some police officer will get to take his or her day-long break sitting in a police cruiser at the site, presumably because it is mandated by state law. Thus is the model of inefficiency I've come to expect from public works in this fair state.

Yet the public ineptitude just described pales in comparison to recent actions by the town of Needham. The tell-tale signs of a public servant with too little real work to do marked the recent closure of the parking lot at the corner of Hilltop Ave and West St., adjacent to the Heights train station. I am told by seasoned commuters that the lot served quite a useful purpose for years (possibly since Carters closed in 1989), supplementing the meager amount of parking offered at the station itself. The daily parking traffic at the station was more than double the capacity of the $1-per-day spaces. So, on that day when we received polite little notices announcing the closure of the lot, it was obvious what would follow. With no other options available, we commuters would line Hilltop Ave with parked cars from West St. to Hunnewell every day until some besieged local resident complained and the city would then ban parking on the street, effectively outlawing any reasonable effort to park at the Heights train station. Less than a month and a half later it has come to pass. In the days and weeks following the closure, the street was indeed lined with commuters' parked cars. And, indeed, signs soon appeared indicating "No All Day Parking."

I can't say what's become of the other Heights commuters, but for myself, I find that I must drive across town to the Hersey station, adding, as I do, to the commute-time traffic congestion and pollution. Where I would occasionally tackle the 15-minute walk to and from the Heights station, I would never try the same to Hersey, several miles away, assuring that I will pollute the air and congest the streets every working day of the year.

Given this obvious outcome, what I want to know is what grave wrong was righted by closing the lot? Why is it preferable for the lot to lie fallow, no less of an eye-sore for being empty, rather than providing a useful service to local commuters? What grand plan is this action a service to? Finally, who was the short-sighted, simple-minded bureaucrat that inflicted it, and for whom the remaining commuters will be hunting, when, at some point in the future, the MBTA closes the Heights station for lack of riders?