(UN)RELIABLE SOURCES:

I HAVE JUICE!

by FRANK O'DONNELL
June 29, 2008

It’s official.

After 21 years living in North Providence, I have juice.

You know, clout. Pull. Political muscle. The power to GET THINGS DONE.

Faithful readers of this column know that in recent months, I’ve written about the Islands of Wenscott. Curbed oval patches of earth, really, plopped at either end of Wenscott Drive.

The original concept was for them to provide some traffic relief – especially from the folks who use Wenscott as a cut-through route to Smithfield Road and beyond.

Recently, however, they had become inconvenient eyesores.

In March, I suggested that we needed to make them more eye-catching, by turning them into planter boxes. Planting tomatoes in them would  certainly make cut-throughers stop and take notice – accomplishing the purpose for which the islands were originally intended.

In May, I revisited the islands, with this observation: “… they sit there, unadorned, unused and filled with gravel. In effect, they’ve become little more than rocky speed humps for trucks unable to navigate the turns.”

It looks like someone at the municipal level was paying attention.

Four weeks ago, a crew from the DPW took out both islands. All that remains is a darker-than-its-surroundings asphalt patch which will soon weather into a charcoal gray.

Could it be, I wondered as I drove past the backhoe tearing up the island near Meadowview, that I’d made enough noise to get noticed?

I called my old elementary school buddy, now the head of our local DPW, to find out.

“I got a memo,” he explained. “Maybe they passed a law, maybe it was an executive order. The memo said they had to go, so they went.”

Was it because of me, I wanted to know.

He laughed a little. “I really don’t think so.”

But the laugh was too quick, and a little forced. Maybe he doesn’t think so, but I’m starting to get the picture.

I called one of our councilmen to see if perhaps an ordinance had been passed, calling for the removal of the islands.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “Something like that wouldn’t take an ordinance. But check with the town clerk.”

It’s because of me, isn’t it? The islands are gone because I hit them with my journalistic spotlight.

He too laughed a little, too quick, too forced. “I really don’t think so.”

As good as confirmed.

I called the town clerk. Had an ordinance been passed mandating the removal of the islands, and had anyone mentioned my name?

“I’m sorry, who are you again?”

Too quick, too forced. I was definitely on to something.

With visions of Oliver Stone dancing in my head, I called the mayor’s office, never expecting a call back.

But he did call back.

“Yeah, those traffic islands on Wenscott, sure, what about them?” the mayor asked.

They’re gone, I said.

“Some of the neighbors complained, trucks were driving on lawns because they couldn’t make the corners.”

Which I wrote about. Come on, you can level with me. You read my column, and decided something had to be done.

“I’m pretty sure it was people in the neighborhood…”

Right. And you know who lives in that neighborhood…

“Uh, you don’t really live there, you’re sort of down the hill.”

So you do know who lives in the neighborhood.

I rest my case.

Juice, ladies and gentlemen, juice.

I’ve got it.

And the next time I write about it, it will be even more official than it is right now.

***

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