Put $1M to work for housing affordability
If I had $1 million to improve housing affordability in Litchfield County, I would create a revolving Housing Opportunity Fund. Instead of spending the entire amount on one or two homes, I would use it to help local housing trusts acquire land or properties, provide down-payment assistance for qualified buyers, convert appropriate existing buildings into housing, and help cover some of the upfront costs that can prevent good housing projects from ever getting started.
The goal would be simple: make that $1 million work more than once. Whenever possible, money would return to the fund through resale provisions, shared-equity programs and other partnerships so it could be used to help the next household.
I would also love to see some of that investment go toward smaller homes on smaller lots throughout our towns. Affordable housing does not always have to mean a large development. Thoughtfully placed homes can preserve the character of our small towns while creating real opportunities for people to live here.
Because affordable housing is about so much more than housing. It helps keep families in our communities, children in our schools, local employees close to their jobs, and seniors in the towns they have called home for years.
One million dollars won’t solve Litchfield County’s housing crisis. But if we use it as seed money to attract additional grants, private donations and matching funds, that $1 million could become several million dollars in housing investment and create opportunities for generations instead of funding just one project.
Karen Rios
Sharon
Thank you for reminder of how friends should treat each other
The Sharon Playhouse production of Come From Away is timely not only for the 25th anniversary of September 11 but also as a reminder of the special relationship between Canadians and Americans. When Newfoundlanders welcomed thousands of stranded Americans and others headed to the United States in 2001, they were not just acting as gracious small town folk living their Rock values; they were also enacting the relationship that Canadians and Americans have built by crossing our shared border — the longest undefended border in the world. The heart of the U.S.-Canada relationship is, as the historians Marcus Lee Hansen and John Bartlet Brebner put it in 1941, the mingling of the Canadian and American peoples.
It is that relationship — not to mention the story of Gander or the shared sacrifices made by Canadian and American soldiers in both World Wars and Afghanistan — that Donald Trump is now tearing asunder. He tosses out random national insults on social media and purports to rename Great Lakes. Worse, in the name of a quixotic and pointless trade war, Trump is attacking Canadian sovereignty. He and his negotiators attempted to strong arm Canada into sacrificing its language policy, forego its sovereign right to make trade pacts with third countries without American approval, and dismantle its unionized automobile industry. Meanwhile, he leaves the very Canadians celebrated in Come From Away wondering how literally to take his repeated threats to annex their country.
Leaving the theater, I could not help but feel ashamed and embarrassed that my country is repaying the kindness of our neighbors with such ugly attacks. Thank you to the Sharon Playhouse for the reminder of how friends and neighbors should treat each other — and for a reminder of how Canadians and Americans acted before Donald Trump.
Jacob Remes
Sharon
Demand private capital with public for housing
If I had $1 million to make a meaningful difference in housing affordability in Salisbury and across Litchfield County, I would not build anything. I’d put the million on the table and ask: Who will match it?
Banks benefit from our deposits. The state collects our taxes at 4.5% even for income levels below the ALICE line. Half a dozen under the radar but flush foundations exist in and around the NW Corner and Litchfield Hills to solve problems individual philanthropy alone does not. Private wealth in this corner of Connecticut is extraordinary — both collective and individual. Additionally, talent--planning, engineering, building and sourcing experts abound here in the hills. We only must unlock the talent, take the time, and marry the money and resources to build velocity.
For every public dollar, let’s demand private capital beside it. Use town surplus to de-risk bank investment. Use philanthropy to unlock state dollars. Use state dollars to make private development possible. Turn $1 million into $5 million, then $10 million—and create a revolving fund that keeps doing it again.
Deploy it surgically: incentivize the owner of the old barn, the dated garage apartment, and empty cottage, the donated acre, tired duplex. Septic. Surveys. Acquisition. Construction. Use a portion of the initial million dollar investment to eliminate the obstacles between possible and occupied.
Allocate a third of the dollars to secure and hire one extraordinary, extremely well-paid person for a three year term whose entire job is to connect the money to the opportunity—and let that person move like the same machine that helped create this region’s wealth to begin with. Litchfield County does not suffer scarcity. We suffer from a failure to mobilize our resources for fear of change. But change is the law and it can be managed effectively to maintain aesthetics, which I have come to understand, for better or worse, is a most unvirtuous but voracious value of this region. By creating housing options rather than housing developments, NIMBY becomes IMBY, incentivized by tax credits and attractive buildouts to house the people--landscapers, teachers, nurses, bank tellers, baristas, bar tenders, housekeepers, domestic and custodial engineers and caretakers who also constitute the majority “working class’ volunteers who make life and comparatively low mill rates possible for the ultra rich.
If we simply become willing to first acknowledge, without shame, our region’s enormous public and private wealth, then we can leverage it to ensure that the people who make this place work can actually afford to live here. A million dollars compounds through interest and ingenuity. The wealthy know exactly how this works and many would be thrilled to devote our talent and time to a plan that works for others.
Theodora Jones
The sound of life
‘Hwack!’ That’s the sound of competition, of going at it full-bore, no holding back. Way back when, that sound -‘Hwack!’, generated a shiny trophy, a signpost of achievement in time. However, in that instance, among others to come, I learned quickly that it was the ‘Hwack!’ that was the truth of that moment — not the trophy. The ‘Hwack!’was a sound of life.
Fifty nine years ago I was twelve, and an all-star infielder (short-stop) finishing up my little-league baseball career. At the end of the season our town’s collection of all-stars played a neighboring town’s. My whole family was at the game watching. My best friend and classmate played 2nd base on our team. We were both good hitters. Neither he nor I had personally created a ‘Hwack!’ in a game.
That day it all changed. He batted 2nd and I batted cleanup-4th. The second time through the batting order my friend hit his first home run.
A real ‘Hwack!’. I instantly had two competing feelings well-up inside. I was both proud of him — and real jealous. Three minutes later I came to bat. I hustled into the batters box. I was so darn hungry for the opposing pitcher to throw the ball — ’cause I had to keep up. [I had an older brother. I always had to keep up.] Sure enough, all the pent up emotion - happiness, jealousy, challenge, hunger, grit -welled up inside me, and. I got a pitch to hit -a fastball. I jumped on it.
The ‘HeWaaack!!’ sounded and felt like an explosion. The kind of wondrously mysterious explosion that could just take you to the moon. Just for that instant the 32” solid hickory bat - felt liquid. It pulsed with a thick as molasses sound-barrier breaking transfer of energy - from the ball, to every muscle and bone in my body, to my heart, to my brain - finally reversing field travelling back to the bat - where it ‘sweet-spotted’ that ball, arcing it up and up, and over that homerun fence. All of it in slow motion, landing poetically right where my family stood watching the game.
“Whoee! Whoee! Whoee!” were the words I heard coming out of my mouth as I bounced ‘round the bases, ending up where I started, at home plate -with all of our teammates gathered to celebrate. My best friend and I shook hands congratulating each other. We both felt on top of the world because we had done something (finally) that was difficult to do, felt stupendous doing it, and helped our team win. The togetherness we felt and shared with all of our teammates and coaches was the icing on the cake.
The competion within the competition, between two good friends, enabled me to make the earnest and ultimately successful attempt to go beyond what I had, up to that point been able to achieve. He showed me the way.
I hope the 16 year-olds ‘Hwack’-ing away creating AI can hear their own sounds of life.
Michael Moschen
Cornwall Bridge
Dick Hermans in the Oblong Bookstore on Millerton’s Main Street in 1985.Provided
