Tonight I lingered downtown with my sons. They’re seeing the downtown I’ve known and have come to know the past 20 years. I got a glimpse of the downtown of their future. And stepping back from all the debates, all the play-by-play coverage of all that’s going on makes for quite the moment of realization.
I saw a hair stylist chatting away with her customers next to Beatnix on NW 13; a yellow taxi cruising down Park Avenue; a couple of executives walking down Park Avenue; workers soda blasting the white paint off the gorgeous red brick on the old Braniff Building; preparations taking place for crowds expected to hit the new Myriad Gardens ice rink tomorrow.
It’s life. Nothing spectacular. But nothing insignificant, considering the “dead” downtown I remember some 25 years ago.
This week I’m asking some difficult, tough questions of some of the folks who have helped make this magic a reality. I’ve done stories that have caused them some discomfort, and what’s to come won’t be any more enjoyable. I like these people – I respect them. And I hope they know that even as I throw what I’ll readily admit are pretty fast hard balls.