Mount Vernon, the extraordinary home and gardens of the nation's first president on the banks of the Potomac River, is a remarkable testament to the power of historic preservation. Today, it is perhaps hard to believe this magnificent place where George Washington lived and died fell into disrepair for nearly 60 years after his death in 1799.
A woman passing on a Potomac steamboat in 1853 noticed "the ruin and desolation" of the former president's home and, writing to her daughter, declared that the women of the nation should rescue it if the men couldn't. The daughter, Ann Pamela Cunningham, took up the cause.
What’s the point?
Preservation and private property rights create a tension as residents and community leaders look for ways to save old, sometimes historic, structures from demolition.
Cunningham didn't march to protest the Washington family's inattention to this landmark structure. She formed the Mount Vernon's Ladies Association to raise money for the estate's purchase and operation. Today, 158 years later, her nonprofit association still runs the place, having restored it and the surrounding area to its one-time grandeur.
It's not that Cunningham didn't try to get both the U.S. government and the legislators of Virginia to acquire the property. She did, and they weren't interested. Today, that seems astonishing. The singular example of preservation, in its early days, ran into the same challenges proponents of historic preservation do today: the government's plate is full dealing with modern demands. Preservation of yesterday's treasurers isn't a priority and, except in the rarest of circumstances, can hardly be afforded.
But government nonetheless lands smack in the middle of debates about preserving old structures. The folks in Bentonville are the latest to go through the discomforting challenges presented when demand for new development clashes with preservation of structures that have, over the years, helped give the town some of its character and charm.
Cottage Home XNA, a company owned by members of the Scott family, recently demolished one old home at 701 W. Central Ave. and had planned to demolish a second at 703 W. Central Ave. Lee Scott is a former CEO of Wal-Mart. His son, Eric, has spoken for Cottage Home XNA. The second home was once home to Louise Thaden, a female pilot who was a contemporary of Amelia Earhardt.
Once some area residents became aware of the Scotts' plans, they marched on the homes with signs such as "Shame on them" and "Stop destroying our historic homes."
Unless any of those demonstrators had a deed in his pocket, the personal pronoun used in the latter sign certainly overstated the demonstrators' financial interest in the homes. They weren't "our" homes.
But Bentonville isn't the first place advocates for preservation have presumed some sort of communal ownership on private properties deemed significant to the history or character of a community.
In the 1990s book "Lost Rights: The Destruction of American Liberty," author James Bovard recounts a 1990 situation in Portland, Maine. The town, like so many others, had gotten caught up in a debate over how the community could make sure some of its historic structures didn't disappear. A city council member, Pamela Plumb, captures the essence of what Bovard refers to as a "Manifest Destiny attitude toward other people's property":
"An historic district ordinance acknowledges the community's interest in the history of the city and therefore the community's right to have some control over that," Plumb said.
The debate over preservation is, by necessity, a debate over personal property rights, something traditionally held dear in Arkansas. Almost inevitably, such debates involve people with no financial interest in a property asserting their views on what those who do have a financial interest ought to do.
"They're both jewels," Randy McCrory, a local historian, said of the two Central Avenue properties. "They're things that really should stay as historical monuments to Bentonville's past, and yet they're going to be torn down."
Daphne Smith, who has lived in a West Central Avenue home 15 years ago with the intention to preserve history, explained to City Council members recently that her family put their home on the market for financial reasons. As her family cashes out, she nonetheless implored Bentonville officials to resist a society "of disposal for convenience."
"Without our historic homes, we lose our ties to the past, a sense of home and tradition, as well as an opportunity to learn, grow and create appreciation for those who have gone before us," she explained. Her hope, she said, is that her property can withstand progress as it has withstood the test of time.
Other preservation proponents stood and applauded.
But what is a city like Bentonville supposed to do? Doesn't it seem odd for a property owner who is selling a property to implore the community's leaders to do something that would somehow limit the future owner of that property? If a structure is historic enough, a community might want to buy it so it maintains direct control, but imposing limitations?
It's been tried before. Troy Galloway, community and economic development director, reminded advocates and aldermen an attempt to create a certified local government district to protect historic homes in 1998 failed because property owners didn't want to "further regulate themselves by further eroding their own personal property rights." And that's typically the story: We want to limit other people's property rights, but not our own.
Is Bentonville changing so much that its residents are OK with government-led efforts to put more significant controls on private property?
Alderman told preservation advocates they're willing to help foster collaboration, but they seem to recognize the limitations of the city in dictating the future of property owned by private citizens.
Advocates appear to have helped convince the Scotts to move, rather than destroy, the Thaden house. That appears to be a win-win for everyone. That's progress on the preservation front. But long-term preservation of other properties will be harder and will have more to do with influencing people to choose preservation rather than convincing government to impose it.
Most of all, successful preservation will arise from neighbors working with neighbors to ensure that goal remains a priority, even if other choices might result in more immediate gain.
Commentary on 05/27/2016