The currently unoccupied corner store at Green and Kelker streets in Harrisburg.
When I was a kid, my family had a set of clothbound encyclopedias that sat on a large, metal, industrial-looking bookshelf in our basement.
This was pre-Internet, before the accumulated knowledge of human beings could be accessed in mere seconds via a Web browser. So, I sat for untold hours on the cold, concrete floor, leafing through the many volumes, even after the cellar’s constant dampness began to mold and eat away at the covers and pages.
I don’t remember much detail of the entries I read on topics as diverse as ancient Rome and dog breeds, but I do clearly recall the phrase imprinted on the spine of each book–the ancient proverb, “Knowledge Is Power.”
That phrase rang through my brain on Monday night as I stood (yes, stood, as all the seats were taken by the time I got there) in the meeting room of the Harrisburg Zoning Hearing Board in City Hall. There were only two items on the agenda, and nearly everyone who had packed into the room was there for the first case: a petition to locate a convenience store at the corner of Green and Kelker streets in Midtown.
Some residents had been agitated for weeks, ever since the city’s Bureau of Planning had posted a yellow cardboard placard on the front door of the building announcing that Mohamed Ahmed Ahrar had filed for two special exceptions (one to waive parking requirements, the other to allow his planned business) so he could open a convenience store at the site. Dozens of neighbors felt so strongly that they signed a petition objecting to the plan, saying they feared litter, noise and parking problems amidst the mostly residential area.
Less spoken, but palpably felt, was the even greater concern that the convenience store would create a nuisance, a place where people would congregate, hang out and possibly engage in illegal activity. In fact, the building’s previous tenant, a barbershop, lost its lease after years of neighborhood complaints.
Conversely, as expressed on TheBurg’s Facebook page, was an opinion that opposing the convenience store was racist or classist, that it was the latest effort to gentrify the neighborhood, that the would-be entrepreneur should be able to open a business of his choosing, as long as it was legitimate.
I respect and see value in both points of view, but I find them almost beside the point. To me, the most significant factor in the dust-up over the convenience store did not come down to menace or crime or lottery tickets or sugary drinks or race or class but to the simple matter of knowledge.
Several weeks ago, after the convenience store plan became public–and it was clear that opposition was organizing against it–I was asked whether I felt the store would get city permission to locate there. I quickly responded, “No, I don’t.”
I felt confident to make this prediction not because I’m a good guesser or because I had some inside information. I made it because I’ve sat inside that hearing room many times and have seen how and why the powerful zoning board rules as it does.
The board, rightly, believes that a new development or business profoundly impacts the people who live near it. So, it will do everything it can to approve a project if it feels it will serve the community and is supported by it. The opposite also is true. If a project may negatively impact a community and, especially, if it has significant opposition, the board will find a reason to deny it. End of story.
The petitioner–and, most of all, the property manager (who did most of the talking at the hearing)–should have known this.
They should have better understood the neighborhood where they hoped to locate.
They should have known that the zoning board would look skeptically on a convenience store, run by a guy from Mechanicsburg who, by his own testimony, planned to make a buck peddling yet more chips, soda and cigarettes in the city.
They should have considered that there are similar places one block and three blocks and four blocks away.
They should have known that, just months ago, the zoning board had denied another application for a convenience store just a couple streets up.
They should have known that the neighbors were relieved to be rid of the barbershop, as well as a particularly notorious convenience store a block in the other direction that closed down a few years ago.
They should have expected opposition, tried to get the neighborhood on board and even made adjustments to their plan based on feedback from the community.
At Monday night’s hearing, Terry Lawson, the property manager, increasingly frustrated, said that Ahrar’s convenience store was the best of several proposed businesses that wanted to move into the snug, 650-square-foot space. To prove his point, he said, with a slight laugh, that he had rejected both a skateboard shop and a tattoo parlor.
That comment set the crowded room abuzz, and several people blurted out, “We would support that!” when he mentioned the skate shop. Even the tattoo parlor had some supporters. Several residents said they would enthusiastically welcome a business owned by responsible people who truly wanted to serve and be a part of the Engleton/Olde Uptown community, increasingly populated by middle-class professionals.
Lawson and Ahrar would have known all this had they engaged the community instead of trying to jam in yet another unpopular corner store.
But they didn’t–and I wondered whether the thought had even occurred to them. And so, after about an hour of testimony, Zoning Hearing Board Chairwoman Marian Frankston banged the gavel and declared, “Your application has been denied.”
One can hope, as I do, that this decision–along with several others like it recently–will serve as a signal to property and business owners that they need to consider the impact of their proposals on the community. In fact, with a little thought, creativity and engagement, potential shop owners may discover an unfilled need that the community will support and patronize, as opposed to the same old, tired concept. Harrisburg is changing, and the business community must change with it, not immediately default to the lowest-common denominator, the dismal stereotype of a dark, crowded store packed with soda, chips and cigarettes, overseen by a weary, unhappy, suspicious owner.
Likewise, I hope that Harrisburg residents in other neighborhoods understand that they have a powerful tool in their hands. It’s called organization and involvement, and they should use it.
If they do, there is at least one public body that will listen. In cases that come before it, the zoning hearing board has shown again and again that it takes community concerns very seriously, often placing the impact on the neighborhood above the wishes of an individual property or business owner. Harrisburg residents who want to improve the quality of their lives and their communities have an ally, assuming they’re willing to track what’s going on around them, gain some knowledge and then show up in force to a meeting on a cold Monday night.
