c 2014, WLOS ABC 13 | Portions are Copyright 2014 Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or distributed.
WLOS News 13 provides local news, weather forecasts, traffic updates, notices of events and items of interest in the community, sports and entertainment programming for Asheville, NC and nearby towns and communities in Western North Carolina and the Upstate of South Carolina, including the counties of Buncombe, Henderson, Rutherford, Haywood, Polk, Transylvania, McDowell, Mitchell, Madison, Yancey, Jackson, Swain, Macon, Graham, Spartanburg, Greenville, Anderson, Union, Pickens, Oconee, Laurens, Greenwood, Abbeville and also Biltmore Forest, Woodfin, Leicester, Black Mountain, Montreat, Arden, Weaverville, Hendersonville, Etowah, Flat Rock, Mills River, Waynesville, Maggie Valley, Canton, Clyde, Franklin, Cullowhee, Sylva, Cherokee, Marion, Old Fort, Forest City, Lake Lure, Bat Cave, Spindale, Spruce Pine, Bakersville, Burnsville, Tryon, Columbus, Marshall, Mars Hill, Brevard, Bryson City, Cashiers, Greer, Landrum, Clemson, Gaffney, and Easley.
Local TV channels haven’t changed in five decades, but programming sure has.
Check out this TV program listing from nearly 50 years ago. It was printed in The Star in October 1966.
It lists regional channels that remain the same to this day – channel 7 from Spartanburg, channel 13 from Asheville, and channels 3 and 9 broadcasting from Charlotte.
But take a look at the programs. Do you remember watching “Lassie” and “The Lone Ranger” when the episodes originally aired? I’m not old enough to have enjoyed those classics at the time, but I have seen the shows (and many other classics) via re-runs over the years.
It’s interesting to see who the big stars were back then. Milton Berle, Captain Kangaroo, Mike Douglas, Merv Griffin, Porter Wagoner had their own TV programs.
Despite the obvious changes in TV listings, a few things remain the same. You can still catch cartoons, CBS still produces an evening newscast, and Bugs Bunny keeps on delighting viewers while casually eating carrots.
Here’s hoping you enjoy looking at the old listings. What TV shows did you watch 50 years ago? Do you recall a certain program you did not miss? Do you remember what time it aired?
Tell Star lifestyles reporter Wade Allen about it. Send him an email at wallen@shelbystar.com, call him at 704-669-3331, or write to The Shelby Star, 315 E. Graham St., Shelby, NC 28151. Don’t forget to include your name and phone number, and let him know the town or city where you live.
Meet author of ‘Women of the Revolution’
“Women of the Revolution” lecture and book signing by Sharyn McCrumb will be at 2 p.m., April 11, at Kings Mountain Historical Museum, 100 E. Mountain St., Kings Mountain. McCrumb will discuss her 2013 novel “King’s Mountain,” which received the Patricia Winn Award for Southern Fiction. “King’s Mountain” tells the story of the Overmountain Men, a group of unpaid volunteers from the southern Appalachians who fought the Revolutionary War battle at Kings Mountain. Hear about the women whose courageous actions helped to turn the tide of the revolution, such as Mary Patton, who earned her place in history by providing over five hundred pounds of gunpowder to the Overmountain Men, essential to the victory at the Battle of Kings Mountain. This program is made possible by a grant from the Kings Mountain Tourism Development Authority. For information visit kingsmountainmuseum.org or call 704-739-1019.
Student entries accepted for art competition
Students across the county in kindergarten through 12th grade are eligible to enter the annual student art competition, sponsored by the Cleveland County Arts Council and in partnership with Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Shelby Alumnae Chapter. Students must also be residents of Cleveland County to enter. Artwork should be delivered to the Arts Council on April 16 or 17, between the hours of 9 a.m. and 5 p.m. The exhibit will open with a reception to honor all participants and their teachers April 23, from 6:30-7:30 p.m. at the Arts Center, 111 S. Washington St., Shelby. The reception is free and open to the public. For guidelines and information call 704-484-2787 or visit ccartscouncil.org.
Local teacher publishes book
The community is invited to drop in and celebrate the publication of a book by Cleveland County resident and Burns High School teacher April Bolejack at a reception from 2 to 3:30 p.m., April 19, at the Family Life Center of Double Springs Baptist Church. “Double Dawg Dare Ya!” is available at amazon.com and books will be available at the reception. At 2:30 p.m., Bolejack will answer questions about the book and her life growing up in Cary during the 1950s and other adventures. The church is at 1130 Double Springs Church Road, off Washburn Switch Road, near PPG Industries.
Jan. 23 was a rotten day to sail out of Bucksport Marina RV Resort. An inch of rain would soon drench the swamps and rivers between Garden City and Murrell’s Inlet. The next day’s forecast wasn’t much better: thunderstorms and gale-force gusts, conditions that would turn the Atlantic into a cold green froth.
Undaunted by the weather that weekend, Louis Jordan steered his 35-foot sailboat “Angel” into the Waccamaw River. He followed the river north as it snaked through the piney lowlands of the Waccamaw National Wildlife Refuge. Hoping to catch some fish, he took the Intracoastal Waterway to the Atlantic, heading north, toward the Gulf Stream.
Not long into his trip, Jordan was sleeping when a wave hit the Angel like a cannonball and turned the boat upside down. He somersaulted from one side of the cabin to the other. Suddenly, the floor was the ceiling, and the ceiling was the floor. His mast was wrecked; the Angel was adrift. He’d broken his collarbone, but he was alive.
Louis Jordan was 37 years old the day he left Bucksport Marina. He was about 6-foot-2 and 230 pounds — “a gentle giant,” according to friends and family. In a Facebook post, Jordan once described his arms as “those of a big hairy butter egg man” and that the “Earth doesn’t quite suit/fit me anymore.”
He’d long led an untethered life. He was born overseas, and had driven trucks for a living. He shared his father’s Baha’i faith. “I’ve been everywhere man,” he wrote in another Facebook post in August.
“I’ve hauled a 53′ trailer in every state of the continental US, took a ferry to AK, flew to Klawock to live w/ the natives Inuit, rode to Anchorage Sitka, flew to Iceland, Germany, France, the UK (Got kicked out of the UK), Romania, also drove to Poza Rica, Mexico w/ a horse trailer, sunk a boat in Texas, am now floating on #2 back in Bucksport, SC. I was born in Suriname. Well, it’s not much, but, who would have imagined?”
Jordan sailed to Bucksport Marina early last summer in his 1950s-era Pearson Alberg 35 sailboat. The marina was on an isolated elbow of the Waccamaw River. Soon after he arrived, he nicknamed it Bugsport Marina. “Visit me if you’re nearby,” he wrote. “Not sure how long I’ll be here, but plan on staying for today at least.
He stayed for months. He was “a spiritual kind of guy,” said Derriel Morris, who lived in a houseboat next to Jordan’s boat. Sometimes, he fasted to clean himself out. He worked hard. Morris recalled how his friend crept into the dinghy to sand the hull eight, 10, 12 hours per day. He turned down offers of electric sanders. He wanted to do it himself, by hand.
The boat was a little rough when it arrived last summer, but by January, it had fresh paint and shiny chrome, said marina manager Jeff Weeks. “He had always had a dream of going (offshore) fishing.” Weeks said that Jordan did jobs for him — repairs, computer work, landscaping. Jordan was friendly and polite. He helped dockmates carry their trash bags.
At night, Jordan would sit with Morris in Morris’ houseboat, watching cable TV channels and waiting for a bell on one of their fishing lines to ring.
Morris said that Jordan seemed to be preparing both the boat and himself for survival. Jordan mostly ate rice and fish he caught himself. He had no car. He didn’t drink alcohol. The only water he drank was rainwater that collected in his dinghy and the dinghies of his neighbors. He mounted solar panels and a windmill to power his boat.
Sometimes, he took Angel on short trips to Georgetown and other places along the Intracoastal Waterway. Like his boat, his mind seemed to float elsewhere. Last November, he wrote: “Seems like all we do in this orbit is spin, then spin inside of spin inside of even bigger spinning things. I’d rather have it straight. Perhaps my celestial family will beam me back home one of these days.”
***
The force of the wave ripped up his mast and rudder. The boat eventually righted itself, but the cabin filled with water. His stove was ripped from its fasteners.
With his broken collarbone, he couldn’t make repairs to the mast. His GPS and other electronics were toast. It’s unclear whether he had an EPIRB, a satellite beacon that automatically sends a distress signal to search-and-rescue teams.
He was dead in the water, steadily drifting farther into the Atlantic.
***
Jordan had left the marina without the coffee creamer, Morris recalled. Jordan had spent several minutes describing what he wanted: pure cream, the carton shape and color, the quart size. Morris went to the store to get the creamer, but when he returned an hour later, Jordan was gone.
Weeks, the marina manager, also visited Jordan’s slip soon after he left. He noticed an orange life jacket in the water and tied to the dock post. Thinking it was some safe voyage luck totem, Weeks left it fastened there, and it’s still there today.
***
Family and friends weren’t surprised that they hadn’t heard from Jordan for days.
“If you know Louis, you know it isn’t out of character for him to up and leave without telling anyone,” his sister, Emily Keller, wrote in a Facebook post early last February, when the days had become weeks. “He could be perfectly happy off grid somewhere. He could have just needed a break from society … All we know is that he went out to ‘catch some fish’ and didn’t come back.”
For a few days, his father, Frank Jordan, also wasn’t worried. But after a week, he decided to call the Coast Guard.
The Coast Guard issued alerts along the Atlantic Coast. More days passed without word. On Feb. 8, the Coast Guard officially launched a search.
Frank Jordan, a retired teacher and experienced sailor, remained optimistic that his son would turn up.
“With God, all things are possible,” he told friends and family three days later on Facebook. “The Pearson 35 is an awesome boat that can ride out all kinds of conditions. Louis may have been blown out to sea by the nor’easter 10 days ago, and he may be making his way back now. I pray that is the case.”
Weeks and Morris and others at the marina also feared the worst. A nor’easter had blown in, and offshore winds were 60 mph or 70 mph. Jordan’s sailboat was in good condition, but it was still tough to sail in weather. You had to steer from a tiller in the aft, with no protection from the elements. The door to the cabin wasn’t watertight.
“There would have been insurmountable swells,” Weeks said. Jordan didn’t have much offshore experience, and “even an experienced (offshore) sailor would have a hard time surviving.”
***
Inside the drifting Angel, Louis Jordan waded in water up to his thighs. He bailed what water he could.
Some days it rained non-stop, and everything he owned and wore was wet. Other times, he had almost no water at all. He had some supplies left, and for a time fried flour in oil to make pancakes. But soon his provisions ran out.
One day, after he put his clothes in the sea to rinse them, he noticed fish following them. He found it easy to scoop them with a hand net. Water temperatures were just above 60 degrees but he was able to hunker down in his cabin when conditions grew too fierce outside.
Over time, he was able to jury rig a mast and sail, but it wasn’t robust enough to power him back to shore. His boat capsized two more times. He drifted north, farther away from South Carolina, farther into the Atlantic.
***
After 10 days, the Coast Guard ended its search.
Several sailors claimed to have spotted Jordan’s sailboat, but there wasn’t enough concrete information to narrow down his whereabouts, the Coast Guard told the AP.
Marilyn Fajardo, a spokeswoman for the Coast Guard’s 7th District, told reporters that officials also searched financial data to determine whether Jordan had come ashore without being noticed, but found no indication that he had.
At the marina, Jordan’s dockmates held a prayer vigil. He has what it takes to survive, they told themselves. But after a few weeks they weren’t hopeful.
Frank Jordan poured out his fears in a post on Feb. 16: “When your son disappears and the weeks wear on, and the weather is cold and the Atlantic is stormy and wild, many horrible thoughts begin to go through your mind, and you begin to unravel,” he wrote later that day. “Your life becomes a muddled jumble of prayers and tears and doubts.”
In early March, Jordan’s thoughts about his son grew darker. “Now it appears that Louis may be gone. God only knows when I will join him and the others, you know, the ones who have left us. The ones who played their parts on this stage of life and then exited to make room for others” Then, three weeks ago: “You don’t know whether to mourn or what. When they’re lost at sea, only God knows where they are.”
***
Wednesday at about 3 a.m., a container ship called the Houston Express left the Wando Welch Terminal in Mount Pleasant. It sailed under the Ravenel Bridge and out of the Port of Charleston, bound for Le Havre, France.
Operated by Hapag-Lloyd, the Houston Express was more than 1,000 feet long and capable of carrying more than 8,000 20-foot shipping containers.
Plowing through the Atlantic, it was about 200 miles off the coast of North Carolina on Thursday when the crew spotted Jordan’s sailboat.
***
At first, Jordan didn’t think the container ship was real, he would later tell reporters. He said the ship’s crew did not see him until he began waving his arms.
“I waved my hands real slowly, and that’s the signal ‘I’m in distress help me,’ ” he told WAVY-TV in Hampton Roads, Va. “I blew my whistles. I had three whistles. They never heard them. I turned my American flag upside down and put that up. That says, ‘rescue me.’” In another interview, he said, “They saw me on front of boat standing up there waving my arms, and they turned that huge skyscraper around.”
Jordan said that he thanked the German crew for saving him and offered to do whatever work they wanted. They told him to rest and take a shower.
Meantime, the Coast Guard had launched a Jayhawk helicopter, which would scoop him up with a cage and take him to a hospital in Norfolk. Before that, however, the Coast Guard connected him by phone to his father, who was driving to Virginia.
“I’m doing fine now,” he told his father. “I couldn’t fix it. I couldn’t sail back with my boat. I’m so sorry. It’s such a big loss …”
“Hey Louis, you’re fine, son. I’m so glad you’re alive. We prayed and prayed and we hoped you were still alive. So that’s all the matters.”
“I was praying about you. I was afraid that you guys were crying and sad that I was dead and wasn’t dead.”
“We were, and I thought I lost you.”
***
Jordan was thinner but looked remarkably good for someone who had been adrift for 66 days. He was able to walk without assistance. His face wasn’t badly sunburned. He was quickly released from the hospital, where reporters gathered to hear more details about his survival.
The wave that capsized his boat hit “all of a sudden with no warning, BOOM!” he told TV reporters.
As the days passed, he told them, he rationed food and also found floating seaweed with little crabs in it. “They tasted dang good.”
His water supplies ran dangerously low.
“I rationed my water to where I had drunk about a pint a day, he told reporters. “For such a long a time I was so thirsty. And I was almost out of water, and every day I was like ‘please God send me some rain, send me some water.’ Begging God, please. And finally right before I ran out of water, finally the conditions were perfect.” He told “The Today Show” that he craved barbecue and organic ice cream, but that the rainwater he captured was sweet, like coconut milk.
His captain’s log was lost in the water, along with his books, rice and most of his supplies. He survived with “lots of prayer” and read the Bible “front to back.”
After 66 days adrift and one day in the limelight, he said, “I feel blessed and full of love. I feel grateful for the chance to produce some sort of fruit in my life. Something valuable. Something to make the world a better place.”
This story is based on reporting by The Post and Courier, The Associated Press, Coast Guard records, TV broadcasts and social media sites.
SALUDA – The train doesn’t run in this small mountain city anymore. But the railroad — the steepest mainline standard gauge railroad ever built in the United States — continues to guide the future of this place more than 135 years after the first passenger train panted up the Saluda Grade on July 4, 1878.
“It’s a small mountain town, where the foothills end and the mountains begin,” said Mayor Fred Baisden. “We’ve got the mountains, the Green River, the Green River Gorge and we have the railroad.”
But the city had no brand and no outward identity to share with the world — something that’s becoming a necessity even for smaller municipalities like Saluda, which in 2010 had a population of 713 people, according to the U.S. Census.
A few weeks ago, Saluda adopted a logo, the first in its history. Previously, all the city had for marketing was its city seal, and that could be used only for official government business.
Inspired by the font found on City Hall and the police station, the word “Saluda” floats above a gray flourish in red lettering. In the center, there’s a loop connected to the flourish with just enough room for a small icon that represents what first put Saluda on the map: a set of railroad tracks.
“You need a unifying element that sort of tells our story. We think the railroad is our past, but that we’re moving in the right direction,” said Lynn Cass, a city commissioner who worked alongside the mayor and two others on the Branding Saluda Committee. “For our economic health, we certainly need lots of visitors and we want them to have a positive take on us.”
Unlike a product at the supermarket, an entire city or town cannot be picked up and held in someone’s hands; there is no detailed list of ingredients to be found on the back of a destination.
Though Virginia and New York made it look easy in the late ’60s and early ’70s with “Virginia Is For Lovers” and “I Love New York,” the process of discovering and marketing the defining qualities of a destination is anything but simple and often goes deeper than a logo or slogan.
Investing in an identity
For more than a decade, cities and towns across Western North Carolina have dedicated serious time and resources to figuring out their identity and, in turn, finding a way to capture it all in a recognizable brand to attract visitors, dollars and future residents.
According to Chris Cavanaugh, president and founder of the Asheville-based Magellan Strategy Group, sometimes this can mean shelling out some serious cash, too.
“There are communities that will spend well in excess of $100,000 to do this, and I’ve certainly seen examples of communities and destinations that have spent far more than that,” he said.
Cavanaugh has worked as a private strategic marketing consultant with numerous cities and towns within and outside of the region. Some of his local civic clients include Rutherford County, Hickory Nut Gorge and Historic Morganton.
He is working with Graham County on its marketing strategy, which he said will inevitably involve discussing the county’s identity.
“About 10 or 15 years ago, communities really began latching onto the idea of branding themselves,” said Cavanaugh. “But it is very difficult to brand an entire community, state or region. I think a lot of the inherent difficulty stems from the fact that it’s very subjective, and there are right and wrong ways to go about it.”
In Saluda, the challenge of finding a new image began almost three years ago when it was selected to participate in the state’s Small Town Main Street program, which is run by the N.C. Department of Commerce.
Created by the National Main Street Center, the program helps municipalities with downtown revitalization efforts by focusing on four elements: organization, promotion, design and economic restructuring.
Sherry Adams, the Western North Carolina coordinator for the Small Town Main Street program, said having the right brand can be the difference between whether a visitor stops and shops, or whether the visitor keeps driving down the interstate.
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“It’s more than a logo — you’re selling yourself,” Adams said. “I often tell (cities and towns) not to start out with a brand. Wait until we’ve had some time to let it percolate a little bit.”
When Adams worked with people in Saluda, community members were asked to give input on what Saluda meant to them. She said a sense of community ownership is pivotal for a municipal branding effort.
“I think branding is important for any town, small or large,” Adams said. “It takes a lot of thought and energy to come up with something, and we always hope it is representative of the community and came out of a process.”
When the Small Town Main Street program ended in Saluda, residents and business owners decided to continue the discussion about what their city needed to become by creating the Saluda Downtown Foundation.
From there, the Branding Saluda Committee — made up of Mayor Baisden, City Commissioner Cass, business owner Cathy Jackson and planning board member James Hrynyshyn — was formed. They set out to take almost three years worth of conversations about the city’s identity and create an identifiable logo in a matter of months.
“Saluda is a community that is evolving. It is not the same community it was when I moved here 10 years ago, and it won’t be the same community in the next 10 years. The population is changing. The philosophical, political and economic underpinnings are evolving,” said Hrynyshyn. “It’s not easy to select a visual message that is going to reflect what everyone in town thinks about Saluda.”
To help turn ideas into images, the committee hired Sarah Thew, who owns Carolina Blue Design Group in nearby Hendersonville. Though Baisden said the committee thought about working with a private company, it just wasn’t economical.
“The professional group that did branding for Travelers Rest, they were asking for $8,500 just to talk. It was pretty expensive,” he said. “We spent some money, but it wasn’t $8,000 worth.”
Limited budgets, Cavanaugh said, are common problems.
“It’s much harder to do this in a smaller community because those communities lack the resources and lack the marketing that these larger destinations can do,” Cavanaugh said. “Small communities are trying to make a message work as hard as possible.”
However, he also said bootstrapping a brand should not discourage smaller towns from going through the process. There is still value to be had just by talking about what characteristics define a community and how those attributes can help chart a path for the future.
Even for larger cities like Asheville, which has appeared on many top 10 lists for its unique attributes, a brand is never truly static.
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In October, Asheville traded the 10-year-old tagline “Asheville: Anyway You Like It” for a newer model, “Asheville: Discovery, inside and out.”
Though both taglines could be contained in five words, the director of marketing for the Asheville Convention and Visitors Bureau said these snappy phrases didn’t just appear after a quick brainstorming session.
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“It’s more research-based than whimsy,” said Marla Tambollini. “The process is much more comprehensive and expansive, and it comes down to understanding how and what your consumers think about you.”
In the mid-2000s, the Asheville CVB embarked on an extensive brand rediscovery process to learn more about what people outside of the region thought about the city. At that time, Asheville’s tagline was “Land of the Sky.”
Tambollini estimates the branding process that led to the development and adoption of “Asheville: Anyway You Like It” was the result of more than 18 months of research.
That research, Tambollini said, was the foundation for today’s tagline of “Asheville: Discovery Inside and Out.”
“There are different philosophies about changing taglines. There are some taglines that have an incredibly long lifespan, and there are some that have a long lifespan even if they are not used as much. It’s probably wiser to do a gut-check over time, ” Tambollini said.
One of the first things Tambollini said the Asheville CVB had to do, though, was identify who the brand and tagline was targeted toward.
“You have to understand the audience you’re going after. Is it about appealing to all constituents, economic development, visitors or residents?” she said, noting this tagline was geared more to visitors and tourists. “Evaluating your brand and your visual identity surrounding the brand is not the same thing as developing new creative campaigns or ads.”
Though it wasn’t as sophisticated, the Saluda Branding Committee did its own form of market research. While working with Adams on the Small Town Main Street program, the public was invited to share its thoughts on what Saluda represented and where it was headed.
Using flip-charts set up around a room, Adams said 20 or 30 people attended and wrote down pages and pages of ideas. One of the common identities involved the city’s growing reputation as an outdoors destination, thanks in large part to Green River Adventures, an outdoors business that opened in downtown Saluda almost a decade ago.
Sara Bell, who founded Green River Adventures, said the city’s logo and newfound identity is coming at the right time.
“I think that in the past Saluda and other mountain towns have been known as retirement destinations, and that’s great. Retirees bring a ton of experience and knowledge, and still bring serious spending power. But every community needs to be thinking about how can we support the next generation and how can we attract the next generation,” she said. “When you’re driving through downtown Saluda, it’s not Buicks anymore. It’s Subarus and sprinter vans. It feels like a small Colorado town where there are racks on the top of every car.”
Bell said she sees the new logo as an opportunity to help Saluda start a dialogue with the world about what it has to offer.
“Now people are discovering that Saluda is such an eclectic community. We have such a strong art community, a really cool downtown and world-class athletes,” she said. “The foundation of Saluda has been built by families who have been here for generations — that have helped the community be what it has been for so many generations. What makes us really strong today is that all of those groups realize how the other groups benefit the community as a whole.”
Franklin finds its image, sees results
More than 90 miles west of Saluda, the town of Franklin has been settling into its new image.
Like Saluda, the bygone fame that once put the municipality on the map no longer attracts the volume of visitors it once did. Though it has been a place for Appalachian Trail hikers to visit during their journey, Franklin was most famously known as the “Gem Capital of the World” due to its ties to commercial gem and mineral mining in the late 1800s.
However, Franklin Mayor Bob Scott said most of the town’s visitors arrive with backpacks not suitcases. That’s why seven months ago, Franklin adopted its first logo in an attempt to rebrand itself as an outdoors destination.
“Right now, I can walk up on Main Street and see three or four hikers in town who are doing the Appalachian Trail. It is a big business here,” Scott said. “A lot of people do still come gem mining, but we’re sort of a gateway to the great outdoors.”
Finding a way to stand out can be particularly challenging for Western North Carolina cities and towns because almost all of them can lay claim to having sweeping mountain views. However, as any local can attest, there are differences.
“One of the interesting things about our region is that you do have people who move here for a variety of different reasons,” said Cavanaugh, an Asheville resident for 20 years. “It’s always true that within a community people tend to be harder on themselves than the rest of the world. We see our flaws much more close up than do outsiders.”
That’s why Cavanaugh recommends that, depending on the marketing objective, communities talk with visitors, people who have invested in the community from the outside and potential visitors.
For Franklin, the new logo, which features an image of a man hiking with waterfalls in the background, represents a new reality for the town.
Earlier this year, Caterpillar announced it would be closing its Franklin plant by the end of 2016, leaving 150 people without jobs. Scott said going forward tourism will be vital for the town’s future.
“I think the days of us luring big industry into Macon County are probably gone. So what do we have? We have the service industry and we have tourism,” Scott said. “You have got to capitalize on what you have at the moment.”
Since adopting the logo, which features a ruby as the dot on the “i” in Franklin to give a nod to its gem-mining past, the mayor said he has noticed a shift not only in visitors but in locals, too.
“I have noticed a huge amount of change and attitude about the town,” Scott said. “I think that what we have now is we seem to have a sense of direction. I think we know where we’re going and I think we’re beginning to realize how we’re going to get there.”
In Saluda, the new logo is just the beginning of the rebranding process and charting the future of the city. As local business owner and Branding Saluda Committee member Cathy Jackson said, the key now will be to capitalize on the momentum.
“We don’t have a tagline yet because we can’t agree on one. Saluda means something different to all of us, so we’ve just put that on the back burner for now,” Jackson said. “But we all understand that Saluda is like a little small business. We have to all work together and be pulling in the same direction. When the tide rises, all boats float.”
Broadkill Beach north of Lewes is about to get an estimated $30 million gift from federal taxpayers that leaders of the sleepy bayside community have sought for decades: a massive infusion of sand creating a beach in places six times as wide as it is now.
Federal contractors working for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers will use giant pumps on dredges to scoop up sand from the Delaware River Channel and pump it onto Broadkill, where earthmovers will smooth it to perfection.
Using historic photographs, property records and corps surveys as guides, The News Journal estimates the dredging operation will turn back the clock on storm erosion and sea level rise 60 years or more.
While there are no public bathrooms and scant public parking at Broadkill, the work will give Delawareans a new public venue to enjoy the water – without navigating the crushing traffic of Del. 1 south of Del. 16.
Today, saltwater laps at the pilings of homes along the 3-mile-long strip of sand that in some places is barely wide enough to lay a towel for sunbathing.
But over the next year, 1.9 million cubic yards of sand will be pushed into the shallow water off shore, extending the beach another 50 yards into Delaware Bay.
The sand represents a pile equivalent to a football field 89 stories high. It will give the 600 homeowners along storm-battered Broadkill a beach rivaling the width of shores along Delaware’s ocean resorts – without spending a penny out of their own pockets.
The Corps’ 50-year project calls for ongoing dredging of the 103-mile channel between Philadelphia and the sea, increasing the depth from 40 feet to 45 feet to accommodate the ocean-going tankers that ply the Delaware River.
Sand, silt, muck and rock will be scooped up, most winding up in federal disposal sites. Under the current Corps’ plan, the best sand will go to Broadkill for the next 50 years.
This multiyear dredging project will cost federal taxpayers $63 million – an estimated $30 million of which will pay for the work at Broadkill.
“The contractor told me it’s going to be a mega-beach,” said James Bailey, a 35-year Broadkill Beach property owner and president of the community’s civic organization. He believes property values will rise after the work is done.
“I think it’s going to be very effective,” Bailey said, “and should last quite some time.”
Don’t count on it, said Orrin Pilkey, James B. Duke professor emeritus of the Geology Division of Earth and Ocean Sciences at Duke University.
“You can expect for sure that your new beach will erode at least twice as rapidly as the natural beach that preceded it,” Pilkey said.
Under normal weather conditions, Broadkill and its neighbors to the north lose between 2 and 10 feet of beach annually. Using that calculus, the replenishment project will extend the life of Broadkill Beach by 60 years.
But a big storm such as Superstorm Sandy, or even a powerful nor’easter, could wash it all away in one season, Pilkey pointed out.
“There’s no guarantee it will stay long,” said Pilkey, who has long argued that taxpayer money should not be used to hold back the sea.
After decades of struggling to get a steady stream of funding for beach replenishment like other Delaware beaches along the Atlantic Ocean, Broadkill finally secured a deal to combat erosion into at least another 50 years – so long as Congress continues to fund the work.
There is an annual debate among lawmakers about whether money is well spent to constantly repair sea level rise erosion on America’s shores.
According to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, Delaware’s beaches and others along the Mid-Atlantic are in a “hot zone,” where seas are expected to rise at twice the rate of most places on the planet.
Rising greenhouse gas levels – most from burning fossil fuels – will raise global air and sea-surface temperatures by 3.5 degrees Fahrenheit or more by the end of the century, multiple scientific studies predict.
Higher temperatures are expected to raise sea levels at an accelerating rate, with a global average rise of as much as 6.6 feet in fewer than 90 years – forcing retreat or rebuilding on a massive scale.
Bulldozers have already arrived at Broadkill. A tug tested the waters in recent days, and pipe that will be used to pump sand ashore is now staged at Lewes.
The beach at Broadkill will be wider than at any point since 1954, affording protection for the homes and building lots. And a protective dune will be created as tall as the one fronting the Rehoboth Beach boardwalk.
Repurposing the channel sand will leave no doubt that Broadkill is a public-access beach. It’s currently reachable only by one narrow two-lane road – and without public amenities for anyone who doesn’t live there.
Along the beach is a stand of telephone pole-sized pilings that rise up from the sand, remnants of homes that once stood there. Water from Delaware Bay swirls around the pilings at a normal high tide.
A mobile home, repeatedly damaged during storms, used to sit on top of the pilings. It was torn down, said the owner, Paul Hanneman, of Stevensville, Maryland.
Erosion has been so bad, he added, “I don’t have any land to speak of now, and I don’t know how I could build there.”
Hanneman had not seen detailed maps of the Corps’ plan to create a wide beach in front of his family’s storm-battered vacation property, but he remains optimistic about rebuilding.
Bailey believes Broadkill still has room to grow, and a significant number of undeveloped lots.
“Because it will be a rather large beach, we’ll see more day traffic, I’m sure,” he said. “Our closest neighbor, Milton, is growing, and with all the traffic going south and the development around Rehoboth and so forth, I assume some will decide to come here.”
Work will extend from beyond Arizona Avenue in the north to a direct connection with the 2-mile, state-owned Plum Island Preserve in the south.
Robert W. Parks, of Fairfax Station, Virginia, who owns a 11/2-story bungalow on pilings along the narrowest and most storm-battered stretch of Broadkill, said he was unaware that the Corps planned so wide a beach in front of his home, damaged by an intense storm as recently as November.
“I’ve had nothing but annual damage, so any help is appreciated,” said Parks, who recalled summering annually as a child with his family at Bethany Beach. He would later continue the tradition, first at Lewes and then buying a home in north Broadkill Beach, followed by a move to the southern end.
Parks’ home stands next to a new 21/2-story house literally built above rushing high-tide waters. Milford resident Wyatt Hammond’s family put up the new house to replace a small, damaged structure, without being sure that the Corps would repair the beach before the next big storm blew through.
The state owns four bayfront lots in this area, too. They were donated in July 2013 when the state was seeking easements to proceed with the Broadkill Beach project.
Parks and his immediate neighbors, however, will keep their homes, some with prohibitions on using portions of their lots covered by the Corps’ work.
“We don’t have the use of 50 feet of our lot now because of the agreement we had to sign with the federal government and Delaware,” Parks said. “It won’t affect the ability to build or improve because they’ve taken that away from us. The price of that replenishment for us is the use of the land.”
Parks, who founded and directs a nonprofit in Virginia called the Smart Outdoor Lighting Alliance, listed his three-bedroom home on pilings for $550,000 one year ago. Other houses along the same stretch can range higher, with one at the southern edge of the planned new dune currently listed at just under $1 million.
Beth and Wyatt Hammond rebuild their bayfront home at Broadkill Beach even as high tides wash up beneath the house. The Army Corps of Engineers plans to put in 3 miles of new coastline.
For decades, Broadkill Beach was in the running for a federal beach renourishment project, but wasn’t successful.
To put this project in perspective, Ed Voigt, spokesman for the Corps’ Philadelphia District office, said that widening Broadkill as a traditional, separate beach could have cost $30 million – obligating Delaware to pay as much as a third of the total expense.
Broadkill’s link to the channel deepening project has its roots in a 1997 public hearing, when the Corps planned to dispose of the sediments just offshore.
The late charter boat captain Jerry Blakeslee arrived at a meeting pushed by the late Sen. William V. Roth. Charter boat captains and fishermen were worried about the impact the sand dumping would have on important fishing areas.
Earlier in the day, Blakeslee took his charter boat Grizzly out to the dump site and collected some bottom samples. He came to the meeting at the University of Delaware’s Lewes campus armed with a small, white cooler.
When it was his turn to speak, Blakeslee opened the cooler and started pulling out samples – a big chunk of mud squirming with worms and a chunk of sand reef built by Sabellaria worms. Fisherman called the area “the Coral Beds.”
State and federal officials started talking about other options for the sand disposal, including pumping it on to Broadkill Beach.
Even now, all those years later, the project is not without controversy.
David Carter, conservation chair with the Delaware Audubon Society, said he is concerned that the timing of sand pumping should be managed to avoid the peak spawning period for horseshoe crabs and the lack of state and federal oversight.
Carter said there is “no meaningful data or analysis of the cumulative impacts” and state and federal officials are taking the position that this is a short-term problem that will lead to long-term improvements.
“My response remains … show me the data,” he said.
The project has been delayed multiple times. Now it is expected to stage at the terminus point of Del. 16 and the beach, where there is expected to be less impact on spawning horseshoe crabs, and then shift to the south end of the beach once the spawning season concludes, Bailey said.
Pilkey also sees environmental issues.
“This beach [sand] will kill everything on the beach and will change the ecosystem for a few years, including the end of the [food] chain offshore,” he said. “Grain size [of sand] is a problem. Some channels have mud in them.”
Broadkill will be the longest continuous beach renourishment project tackled in Delaware so far, including the Corps-maintained Atlantic oceanfront at Rehoboth Beach and Dewey Beach.
New Jersey-based Weeks Marine, which won the Corps dredging and beach-fill contract, recently posted a sign at Broadkill’s entrance declaring, “Coming in March: Weeks Marine” to advertise the planned start of work.
Schedules have since slipped, however, partly because of ice buildups on the Delaware River and Bay that froze some of the 20,000 feet of pipeline needed to connect the main channel-deepening area with the shoreline.
Dredging is now expected to start in the second week of April.
A company hopper dredge capable of taking on 4,000 cubic yards at a time will work sections of the channel deepening, then move to a point offshore of Broadkill to pump sand onto the beach before returning to the channel.
Anthony Pratt, shoreline manager for Delaware’s Department of Natural Resources and Environmental Control, said once that work is done, Broadkill will in some places be wider than the “phenomenally wide” beach that emerged from a shoreline restoration at Rehoboth Beach and Dewey Beach in 2005.
Volumes required per foot of beach gained at Broadkill, Pratt said, will be more than 28 percent greater than the 2005 effort in places.
In 1921, when he purchased 7 miles of land along Delaware Bay, people thought H.P. Layton was nuts.
His father almost disowned him. Naysayers asked: “What can you do with a beach?”
Turns out Layton was far from being nuts. He and the next two generations of Layton family heirs developed Broadkill into hundreds of building lots, selling 50-feet-by-100-feet patches of paradise, a place along the shore with a million-dollar view and soft, sun-bleached sand.
Now, with federal taxpayers paying for a bigger beach, “it’s going to be unbelievable,” said H.P. Layton’s great-grandson, Laurence Burke.
The family, like the state of Delaware, has spent decades fighting sea level rise.
Delaware has been adding sand at Broadkill since 1957. In all, state officials have trucked or pumped in 1.15 million cubic yards of sand over the past 58 years.
Countless studies looked at possible ways to save the sand, including jetties, groins, bulkheads, geotextiles, tire breakwaters.
H.P. Layton built his field of groins – long structures built out into the water to trap and accumulate sand that would otherwise drift along the beach under the water – in the 1950s. By 1964, concrete rubble was trucked in to strengthen the groins from North Carolina Avenue to Alabama Avenue.
But erosion was unstoppable. In fact, it always has been.
The shoreline off Rehoboth Beach used to be 80 to 100 miles to the east. At Dewey Beach, during extreme low tides, one can see the remnants of an old cedar forest dating back to Colonial times.
Broadkill – like the stretch of beach from Bowers to Lewes – is especially vulnerable to 12 miles of open water, where waves grow large during big storms.
Coastal geologists believe sand flows north from Lewes to Broadkill, up to about Del. 16. From there, sand flows south from Prime Hook, Fowler Beach and Slaughter Beach.
All of these beaches sit atop an old marsh, and sand deposited there is shallow, ranging from 5 to 10 feet deep. Erosion washes away sand, exposing a layer of peat and mud.
Greg and Bonnie Miller are familiar with this world. Their beach home at Broadkill is the iconic A-frame with pillars now literally in the water – a survivor of hurricanes, nor’easters and routine high tides.
“We’ve been waiting for 25 years,” Greg Miller said. “We’re really excited.”
Since buying the home in 1989, the Millers have replaced the electric to it – most recently after Superstorm Sandy. They’ve twice lost use of the house.
While they always leave before big storms, once they were in the house thinking a hurricane would pass well off the coast, only to find waves slapping against the pilings, the house shaking.
They stayed five minutes and left.
When the Corps’ project is complete, the Millers will have a beach that is 100 to 150 feet wide in front of the A-frame, with a protective dune standing between house and shore.
These days, the house is so often surrounded by water at high tide that the Millers can cast a fishing line right into Delaware Bay.
“I’ll gladly give that up,” Greg Miller said.
Federal officials plan to retsore the storm-ravaged Broadkill Beach by pumping in sand to create a 3-mile beach with protective dunes. Broadkill will be an idyllic spot especially for families with young children looking for a gentle surf.
One of the biggest problems with a renourished beach is that it tends to promote development, Pilkey said.
“After all, you now have a safe beach in front of you,” he said.
Yet with higher-density development, there is less flexibility in responding to future sea level rise.
“And there is a larger population to holler at the Corps for more sand,” he said.
State officials acknowledge that they are unsure how much attention the new beach will attract, or how quickly it will become a destination.
“We’ll see what we have to adjust to,” Pratt said. “That’s part of the growing pains of doing these big coastal projects, the change in demands from tourism.
“That’s a good thing, as opposed to worrying about houses falling into the bay.”
Yet even some of those who live at Broadkill understand the full scope of change coming.
Although Broadkill is the largest and most affluent of Delaware’s bay settlements north of Lewes, with many houses serving as vacation homes, it stands well off the beaten path.
The community’s main entrance sign stands about 4 miles east of Del. 1 in the Milton area, a bayward jog off the main highway about 7 miles before southbound motorists reach the Five Points intersection near Lewes that serves as a kind of ocean resort gateway.
Once visitors arrive, they find that Broadkill is an idyllic spot for young families with children who appreciate gentle surf and seashore treasures such as baby horseshoe crabs, mermaid’s purses and fossilized rocks.
Marshland straddles the wide-open eastern edge of the only public-road bay approach, subject to flooding and erosion. Delaware Department of Transportation repair crews were working to restore and stabilize portions of the road as recently as last week.
No clearly designated public parking lot is available for visitors, and car intrusions on private lots along narrow roads are a regular source of friction.
“There’s only one store at Broadkill, only one commercial venture, no restroom facilities,” Pratt said. “There’s no place to change clothes, no lifeguards – most of the amenities that folks are looking for.”
The rustic Broadkill Store opens seasonally and sells necessities such as bait and tackle, bug spray and chilled soft drinks.
It used to be that Broadkill residents marked the season by the insects pestering them, and the store had an enormous fly swatter on display. There was deer fly season, mosquito season, greenhead fly season.
Still, it is increasingly popular.
On July 5, Bailey said, there were so many people in the community, he was out directing traffic for one of the highlights of the summer season: a folksy Independence Day weekend parade.
The worrisome side of that equation: There were so many cars it would have been very difficult for an emergency vehicle to pass through.
Bailey said he has already warned people that visitors who come must be allowed to park on the streets. Access to the beach is a given. Property owners already have signed easements.
“It gets into accommodating the public,” Pratt said. “Do you anticipate? Is it, ‘Build it and they will come,’ or do you wait and see?”
The Burke family, anticipating the influx of new visitors, already approached the state with the offer to sell two blocks of land just north of where Del. 16 dead-ends at the dune.
The land is one of the last, centrally located, undeveloped, large parcels left in Broadkill.
Laurence Burke’s father, Sam, said it is plotted for 24 building lots.
Sam Burke said state officials weren’t interested in buying the land, although the offer is still out there – at least until the beach renourishment project is underway.
“The time frame is getting short,” Laurence Burke said. Throughout the community, “the property value will increase dramatically.”
Townsend-area resident Susan Sodor, whose family has had a home at Broadkill for more than three decades, said she was happy about new protection for her home.
“I can understand why it’s going to be a public beach. There’s public money going into it,” Sodor said. “Parking is always the concern most residents have. Facilities are really not available, restrooms and things, and that has to be understood. It’s carry in, carry out.”
Broadkill property owners such as David L. Rehkamp, who with his wife’s family have operated the Broadkill Store for 25 years, said the project is needed.
“I have no doubt anything they do will be better than what they have out there now,” Rehkamp said. “I’ve been flooded three times since I’ve been here. The last time was Sandy.”
Last week Sam Burke stood at the edge of the family property at Broadkill and envisioned a boom.
“We’re going to have some growing pains,” Bailey said. “No ifs, ands or buts. … We’ll see a major influx of people. It’s a great family beach. There’s going to be some help required.”
Contact Molly Murray at (302) 463-3334 or mmurray@delawareonline.com. Follow her on Twitter @MollyMurraytnj. Contact Jeff Montgomery at (302) 463-3344 or jmontgomery@delawareonline.com. Follow him on Twitter @JMontgomery_TNJ.
Broadkill Beach residents assess damage from Superstorm Sandy. (10/30/12)
Although Broadkill Beach will get sand indirectly, as part of a Delaware River shipping channel deepening, other recent projects hint at the potential value of the 100 percent federally funded work to Delaware.
Broadkill Beach: 3 miles, 1.9 million cubic yards
Oakwood Beach, N.J. (Delaware Bay, opposite Chesapeake Delaware Canal): $9.9 million, 2 miles, 346,000 cubic yards, $28.6 per cubic yard
Ocean City, N.J.: $57 million, 2.6 miles, 1.6 million cubic yards, $35.63 cubic yard
Long Beach Island, N.J., and nearby: $128 million, 12.2 miles, 8 million cubic yards, $16 per cubic yard
One year after Superstorm Sandy, Delawareans struggle to adapt. This Sunday The News Journal begins a three-day series on the lasting impact of Hurricane Sandy. (10/23/13)
Owner Dave Tomasello, of Hammonton, explains that the customer counter is made from reclaimed wood at his Hammonton brewery called 3 Threes Brewery, Tuesday March 31, 2015. He plans to open in late summer or fall of 2015.
Michael Ein
DRINKING TOURISM
Owner Dave Tomasello, of Hammonton, plans to open his 3 Threes Brewery in Hammonton, in late summer or fall, Tuesday March 31, 2015.
Michael Ein
DRINKING TOURISM
Owner Dave Tomasello, of Hammonton, explains that the name of his 3 Threes Brewery in Hammonton, comes from the address, Tuesday March 31, 2015. He plans to open in late summer or fall of 2015.
Mike Manger
DRINKING TOURISM
Lou Giansante and his brother Joe show off the build they are trying to lease for their distillery on March 25, 2015 in Hammonton NJ.
Mike Manger
DRINKING TOURISM
Lou Giansante and his brother Joe show off the build they are trying to lease for their distillery on March 25, 2015 in Hammonton NJ.
Mike Manger
DRINKING TOURISM
Lou Giansante and his brother Joe show off the build they are trying to lease for their distillery on March 25, 2015 in Hammonton NJ.
Mike Manger
DRINKING TOURISM
Lou Giansante and his brother Joe show off the build they are trying to lease for their distillery on March 25, 2015 in Hammonton NJ.
Craft breweries and the 2012 N.J. law change:
Microbreweries
Produce small batches of beer for sale to wholesalers and retailers.
2012 law change allowed microbreweries to sell up to a half-keg (about 6 cases) of beer for consumption off premises and allowed consumers to buy beer to drink on premises as part of a brewery tour.
Breweries are not allowed to operate a restaurant or sell food.
Brewpubs
Are restaurants that produce small batches of craft beer brewed on site and may sell their own beer by the glass for consumption on the premises.
May also sell their beer for carry out in bottles, jugs known as growlers and in kegs.
2012 law allows brewpubs to sell their beer off the premises to licensed retailers throughout the state through a New Jersey beer wholesaler.
Source: New Jersey Division of Alcoholic Beverage Control
Bourbon
Kentucky is the birthplace of bourbon, producing 95 percent of the world’s supply. Bourbon is America’s only native spirit, as declared by Congress in 1964. It must be made in the United States, with a minimum of 51 percent corn, aged in charred new oak barrels and stored at no more than 125 proof, in order to be called bourbon.
Bourbon production increased more than 150 percent from 1999 to 2013, going from 485,020 barrels to 1,210,207, with premium small-batch and single-barrel brands rising at the highest rate.
U.S. distilled spirits exports topped $1.5 billion in 2013. Kentucky bourbon and Tennessee whiskey made up more than $1 billion of that amount, making it the largest export category among all U.S. distilled spirits.
Source: Kentucky Distillers Association
2014 Best Beer Town winners
1. Grand Rapids, Michigan
2. Tampa, Florida
3. Asheville, North Carolina
4. Bend, Oregon
5. Fort Collins, Colorado
6. San Diego, California
7. Portland, Maine
8. Portland, Oregon
9. Denver, Colorado
10. Burlington, Vermont
Source: USA TODAY and 10Best Readers’ Choice
Posted: Saturday, April 4, 2015 6:00 am
Drink in South Jersey: Breweries, distilleries on the rise
By MICHELLE BRUNETTI POST, Staff Writer
The Press of Atlantic City
HAMMONTON — Bourbon is one of the hottest distilled spirits right now, with sales so strong fans worry about a potential shortage of the American corn whiskey.
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I first visited Singapore in 1955 and found it to be a vibrant city beginning its climb toward prosperity. This is not to take away from Lee Kuan Yew’s accomplishments, but he didn’t start with a backwater of the British Empire (“The Man Who Remade Asia,” Review, March 28). In 1955, while the British were still in charge, Singapore was one of the few places in Asia where you could drink tap water and sleep without a mosquito net.
I saw the infusion of new ideas and technologies from people who had escaped from Communist…
Fuquay-Varina certainly has a distinctive name, and some might say it has distinctive charm as well.
But its motto of “Distinctive Name, Distinctive Charm” could see a change soon, along with its boxy “FV” logo and strategies for tourism, economic development and greater name recognition.
The town is officially rebranding itself, and is spending $95,000 to do so. The town is now a month into the process being led by Raleigh-based Clean Design Inc.
The town’s growth, and the inexorable march of time, are the main reasons for the rebranding, not any specific complaint or shortcoming, said Mayor John Byrne.
“Fuquay-Varina has grown a lot in the last, well, I could say 20 years, or even 40 years,” Byrne said. “It’s changed. The whole complexion of the region has changed.”
The town commissioners voted last month to hire Clean Design for the project. A team from the firm is now interviewing residents and will report back to the town commissioners in a month or two, Byrne said. Public meetings will be scheduled this spring.
When officials talk about brand, they mean a new logo and motto as well as putting together outreach strategies, advertising campaigns, talking points and messaging themes.
Jim Seymour, the town’s economic development director, said the competition for large job-creating businesses is so fierce that towns must figure out how to shine in a crowded national, and sometimes international, field.
“Everyone’s got a great quality of life, and everyone’s got those amenities, whether it’s town sponsored – like parks – to retail or whatever,” he said.
The challenge beyond providing those amenities, Seymour said, is to ask, “So how do we separate or differentiate ourselves from our competitors?”
The branding campaign won’t just focus on business growth, however. Byrne said one goal is to bring the town further into the modern age, including with websites and mobile apps that can help residents and visitors alike.
“There’s a lot of apps and things like that you could probably see come out of this,” he said.
He said he recently attended the North Carolina Main Street conference in Morganton. The town has an app to show users parking spaces, restaurant locations and public buildings.
“Visitors can download this app even before they get there,” Byrne said. “So when they get there, it’s almost second nature to them.”
Seeking public input
Employees at Clean Design told the town commissioners in March the most important part of their work is to talk with residents and analyze both the present and the future of the town.
“The key is not to just understand what’s happening now, but to understand what’s happening tomorrow,” CEO Natalie Perkins said.
At the meeting a month ago, Town Manager Adam Mitchell said Clean Design is known for doing in-depth work at the front end, so there are fewer arguments and uncertainties when the big decisions are being made.
“We want to hear your opinions early on,” Perkins said.
Clean Design previously has worked with cities such as Boone and Wilmington, as well as the Carolina Ballet, Lenovo, Red Hat and Lonerider Brewing Company.
Commissioner Ed Ridpath, before voting on the company’s contract, said he thought the work would signal the first step toward improving Fuquay-Varina’s brand.
“Brands aren’t something you invent, (and) poof, they’re there,” Ridpath said. “They’re something that you build over a long period of time.”
Seymour said where economic development is concerned, it’s especially important to have more than a brand and a message, but to have everyone from town staff to politicians and business leaders on the same page.
“You’ve got to have an attractive message, but it’s also got to be consistent.”
