To Make Newburyport Affordable Again, Turn Back the Clock to the Decaying 1950s Downtown

Last week, my barber and I were talking about Plum Island.

“It used to be all poor people,” he said, nostalgically. “Now you can’t buy anything for under a mil. It’s ridiculous.”

He’s a sixth-generation Newburyporter who, like many others, has been priced out of his hometown. He almost seemed to long for the days when Plum Island was full of ramshackle cottages, instead of the sturdier, more modern homes that grace the dunes today. It wasn’t surprising. He’d said things like that before.

“I remember when you couldn’t walk down Lime Street without getting jumped.”

“I remember when there was a shoe factory off Warren St., and the whole neighborhood smelled like rubber.”    

No matter the topic at hand, the conversation always seemed to turn to old Newburyport, and my barber waxing nostalgic for his youth, before the downtown was revitalized, the historic buildings restored, and the economy lifted out of its depression. Hearing him talk, it reminded me of the “A chicken in every pot; a car in every garage” campaign promise often attributed to Herbert Hoover. That Newburyport was the American Dream. This Newburyport is…something else. He almost seemed disappointed by the downtown restoration in the 1970s and subsequent beautification. Then it hit me. Why shouldn’t he be?

In the 50s and 60s, Newburyport was indeed a different city. Storefronts were boarded up. Now-thriving shopping centers were empty dirt lots. Boujee oyster bars were dingy dives, and historic old buildings were falling apart. But at least groceries were affordable. At least you didn’t have to make a $200k salary just to afford a 1BR apartment. At least it was still a blue-collar town ripe with seafaring tradition.

I could never put my finger on why I enjoyed the barbershop so much, and then I realized: it’s like entering a time capsule. His stories of old Newburyport were like hearing about your prim, proper parents in their younger years, when they smoked too much weed and didn’t wash their hair.

We love to talk about historic preservation, but we’re missing the point. The “old Newburyport” we’re taught to revere isn’t the not-too-distant past some of us actually remember fondly; it’s a centuries-old fantasy we keep desperately trying to recreate. We shouldn’t be harkening back to the 1800s, doling out historic plaques like they’re 25-cent hot dogs. Instead, we should return to the downtown of the 1950s and 60s. Some may call it “dilapidated,” but I prefer “rich in character.”

This version of Newburyport is so legendary, people still tell stories and make documentaries about it. And unlike the 19^th-century replica downtown we’ve managed to cobble together, the grittier mid-century history actually taps into residents’ real childhood memories.

So board up every other storefront (it’s probably a real estate office anyway — who’ll miss it?), turn the hoity toity oyster bars back into cash-only dives, exchange the 276,000 boutique clothing stores for secondhand shops, and swap out the HOA’s for a couple abandoned houses for the kids to play in. You won’t have to fight with tourists for sidewalk space, because no one will want to come here in the first place. And with no tourists to accommodate, we can forget about high taxes for infrastructure and bickering about parking garages. Since the area won’t be a desirable place to live – you know, by “traditional” metrics — property values will sink, making housing affordable for locals.

And just think of all the new retail opportunities this opens up. Imagine walking into a shop, and instead of overpriced beach-themed decor, you see practical items like nose plugs to block the scent of burning rubber emanating from the North End’s shoe factory. Instead of fighting with hordes of soccer moms at Market Basket for the last bag of $26 organic granola, you’ll see rows upon rows of affordable TV dinners and Spam.

For the parents out there who don’t understand the digital age, and wish your kids could grow up with the same activities you did – well, now they can! As the tourists disappear from Inn Street and the fountains run dry, the street is ripe to be retaken by rebellious middle school kids experimenting with weed and cigarettes. And as they get older, in the absence of frivolous activities like yoga and Pilates (who can afford it?), a classic pastime will reemerge: drinking during the day at social clubs like the Neptune and North End Boat Club. An increasingly introverted generation will benefit from the suddenly underfunded, spread-too-thin law enforcement, and turn both public and private spaces into forums of alcohol-induced merriment. A social renaissance, if you will.

Some might say a measure of change is a good thing. Not me. So let’s make nostalgia for a dilapidated Newburyport our daily reality, and embrace our own version of Hoover’s old mantra: a fish on every line, and a crack in every window. Life’s a little more interesting when your town is on the brink of getting bulldozed, right?

April F.
Newburyport resident

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