Back to the Future, Part I

   I took an unusual vacation this year:  to Western New York, specifically Cattaraugus County and the town of Salamanca.  I chose this area because (as you'll see below) it is the polar opposite of a consumerist community.   Though it was economically and industrially dynamic for the first half of the twentieth century, upon the decline of the great railroads it became a stable, primarily rural economy. 

   Why is that interesting?  As the downturn lingers and people start cutting up credit cards and re-learning grandparent skills like canning and sewing,  the halls of economic power are quietly facing a serious issue: what if we go the way of Japan?  In Japan, where the recession lingered for more than ten years, consumer spending has simply never returned to prior levels, leading to a very slow-growth economy and persistent deflation.

   That could be bad news, it's true.  On the other hand, when you think of your customers as human beings (or yourself for that matter), is it really so terrible to hop off the consumer roller coaster?  That's what I went to Cattaraugus County to find out.

   One of the first things you notice as you drive along the Southern Tier Parkway is how rich the land is.  Lush fields; grazing cows; hearty plantings of corn, soybeans, vegetables; broad streams flowing down to wide brown rivers filled with life-giving mineral silt...  Agriculturally and aesthetically, this is paradise, with prime bottomlands folded among low green hills of Appalachian hardwoods, nurtured by wide, generous creeks and winding rivers. 

   Soon, though, you also notice how poor many of the people are.  In grandly-named Salamanca, once a busy railroad hub, a burned-out furniture factory towers behind houses with badly weathered paint, mossy roofs.  Still, the homes are large and welcoming, the yards neatly-mowed with small but thriving vegetable gardens and bright flower patches, the front porches furnished with comfortable chairs.

   Drive into town, or walk—it isn’t far.  Main Street features lovely warm brick buildings named for their builders and proudly labeled 1808 or 1857; it’s unblemished by the tinted glass of modern architecture.  (Though it is blemished; when you look closer, you see that a once-staid bank houses a tattoo shop, or is discretely boarded up.) 

   All of the Main Street clothes shops are consignment stores.

   Wow.  Where I come from, it can take you ten minutes to find a good space in a mall parking lot, and buses top things off by streaming the auto-deficient in from outlying areas. 

   Here?  The nearest Wal-Mart is in Olean, the largest town in the county (with all of 15,000 people), and that’s probably a pretty good hike from where you are.  Of course, if you need something, you can go to Family Dollar or Dollar General, which are proud to offer “basic goods”(1).  Or, if you want to throw your cash around, you can go to an antiques store; there are lots of those and the prices for some genuinely nice collectibles and old farm implements look like bargains to my jaded eyes.  Beyond that, you’re on your own. 

   One last oddity for a spoiled urbanite: there is take-out Chinese food, but it can be hard to find a restaurant that serves breakfast.  In one small city, we asked a young woman if there was a coffee shop nearby.  She looked at us with an are-you-lost expression and said, “No, there’s nothing like that here.”  Apparently unless you’re a tourist, the question of where to get your morning eggs and coffee seems kind of… clueless.  

   That’s the tourist’s take.  What’s it like to live here?  So far we’ve determined that those who live here don’t shop for sport. Even those who lack the wherewithal to paint their houses keep their lawns mowed and gardens thriving.  Some of them must have tattoos, though I didn’t notice any serious piercing or Goth action.  They make their own breakfast. What else do they do?

   One obvious answer is that they stay fit.  You see plenty of healthy young people in fields playing soccer, lacrosse, football, baseball, softball, and so on.  Their elders, too, are slim; they may take good advantage of the ability to walk to the store and eat fresh vegetables from their back yards, or they may do physical kinds of work.  Whichever or both, they do not confirm the cliché image of obese poverty.

   They have Friday Fish Fries.  With a tip of the hat to Catholicism, on a Friday we got a huge piece of very fresh halibut battered and deep fried to perfection for $9.95, with fresh rolls, French fries, a cup of clam chowder, salad, and coleslaw(2).  (One place we drove by offered “Friday Fish Fries Every Day”.) They also have a sandwich called “Beef on Weck”, named after the roll it’s served on.  They have awesome pies.  With fresh, local fruit, such as raspberries, in them.  For lunch, if you want it.  Trust me, you want it.  

   They work.  Unemployment is the New York State average (8.2% in May, up from 6.2% in 2008), which is very good considering how many empty storefronts and abandoned old brick factories you see.  They work part-time or seasonally in the tourism industry, or commute the 40 miles to Buffalo if they have to.  Out in the countryside, everybody seems to have a cottage business, such as keeping bees, fixing farm equipment, or cutting wood.  Incomes are low by Northeastern standards; the median is about $41,000 per year, which means that half of households make less.  Clearly it’s not because people don’t work—it’s because work doesn’t pay all that well.  

   And they are law-abiding.   Check this chart out; statistics are for Olean, NY, Cattaraugus County’s biggest city (the one with the Wal-Mart, and also beautiful St. Bonaventure University).  That is a very safe place to live.

   One possible reason for the low crime rate is that the countywide cost of living is low:  it indexes about 80, where 100 is the U.S. average.  Though the household size is above average, households here spend less than average on absolutely everything.  

•       They spend less for food at home as well as out of home.  There’s not much taste for the exotic and expensive here, and in any case there’s local milk, local vegetables, and local meat.   

•       They spend way less on apparel.  (Note to self:  jeans, sweatshirts, and comfortable shoes can be worn a long time before they need to be replaced.)

•       They spend less on entertainment too.  Hell, if you want entertainment, just go outside.  It’s beautiful and it’s an outdoorsman’s heaven. 

•        Computers and software?  Well, if you’re looking for someone who’s still running Windows 3... 

•        And they index abysmally (or gloriously) low on telephone expenditures, so they also save a fortune on counseling for Blackberry addiction.

The list goes on and on.  Medicine (even though lots of them are older), housing, insurance, transportation, investments (they don’t), travel… it’s all really, really low (3).

   But another, very important reason that there’s not much crime must be that social cohesion is high.  They know their neighbors, look after aging parents, carry on small businesses they learned from their fathers.  Or they moved here believing that there was something especially worthwhile about this life.  

   They have a proud, sad eye on their heritage.  The 150 year-old insignias on the old brick buildings are freshly painted. There are volunteer-run American Legion Halls, VFW posts, historical societies, and local museums (open 3 days a week) filled with high school yearbooks, old World War I or Civil War uniforms and lacy wedding dresses; a shared attic.  Memory and tradition are everywhere you go, as well cared for as those tidy yards.

   And therein lies the heart of my tale, which will unfold in Part II, next week. 

(1)  I didn’t make that up.   The Google result for Dollar General matter-of-factly states: “Owns and operates retail stores selling basic goods.”

(2) At the Hotel Dudley in Salamanca, NY, built in 1868. Link to Hotel Dudley site.

(3) Cattaraugus County Agricultural and Farmland Protection Plan, Appendix A.  See it for yourself here.