Hello Alamo!
I think, especially with Covid shutdowns when we were all forced to stay away from the community we somehow scrounged together, we can all agree anecdotally how awful loneliness is. That’s not quite good enough for me, because I know for a fact that research exists, but I have no desire to write that post right now.
Instead, I want to write about one of the innovative inventions that contributed to the loss of our sense of community: personal vehicles.
Before development of paved roads, transportation beyond horse and buggy, etc., the only option we really had was to walk everywhere. Innovation can be great when it’s actually focused on helping people with a problem you didn’t create. Spoiler alert for future posts.
In 1913, the creation of the assembly line made Henry Ford’s Model T the first vehicle affordable for the average American. This was a great convenience, for sure, but it’s also led to quite a good chunk of communal breakdown, which I’ll be discussing the next two-ish weeks.
Somewhere along the line, with cars no longer being extravagant luxury items here in the US, attention turned much more toward accommodating them over pedestrians.
Anecdotally, my best friend and I walk many places since neither of us drive. I had an idea of how bad some of the residential areas in Alamogordo are, but it genuinely shocked me just how uneven, cracked, and inaccessible some spots are near downtown New York Ave. and the main streets. I’d love to think all the construction going on in town will help, but after 3 decades of living here, I have my doubts anyway, and it doesn’t even look like they’re touching the sidewalks.
I’m grateful that I usually have the choice whether to walk or beg someone for a ride, because if I had to rely on walking, I would just stay in my house more than I already do.
In bigger cities, there are some efforts to actually improve green spaces and pedestrian areas, but that’s not super-relevant to the trend that I’m pointing out. Small, recent improvements don’t erase decades-long cultural values, unfortunately.
Along with accommodating specifically personal vehicles, that meant the need for more space for things like roads and parking lots. There is some debate around an exact definition, but this need for expansion falls under the term ‘urban sprawl.’
In Europe, for example, communities aren’t constructed to be spread out the way many of ours are.
I noticed in Denver about 4 years ago, while driving through several ‘neighborhoods’ (Cap Hill, Five Points, etc.) something that’s stuck with me over the years. To me, it very much feels like they’re small communities and big cities at the exact same time, and they’re somehow failing at both. I’d even say that about Alamogordo in some respects. I just can’t quite put my finger on why it feels that way. However, this could be a part of it.
There are so many thoughts spiraling in my head about the whys and different issues that feed into this (and that’s why this will have at least a part 2), but focusing on community, being spread out like this doesn’t exactly foster befriending your neighbors unless you’re making a concerted effort to do so. I just hope I can reign in my scattered brain enough to try to break these issues down for you. I’m very impressed with how much this community manages to come together, but actually understanding the problem goes a long way in embodying a solution, and that’s something I think this community deserves.
Until next time,
Salud.
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