A tale of 2 Realities,and an unexpected source of trauma

The other day I visited our town hall, after many years with a long history of meetings, and activities there. But now it was no longer freely accessed, now it is gated and controlled by a locked door and a gate keeper. The symbol of that alone took my mind back to the 90's and the life we led in the forgotten side of town. The rallies, the organizational meetings, the good and the bad held at this public facility. But after leaving the town hall it hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt an overwhelming cluster of emotion for the last 30 years and how this town expected us to survive not thrive in a toxic environment they let fester for longer than we were there. It felt like trauma looking back, an unlikely source of trauma until you know the full story and see the photos, less than desirable events and understand the source and the resistance for years to make change. For some it's just another day in felt like inner city mayhem, however we were raised in the quiet parts of town not knowing what this village was allowed to become.

In the 90's, I was introduced to a part of town I did not know very well, except by a movie theater where my father brought us to see 2 Disney movies at the old Strand Theater as children. Later it became an x rated theater and more recently it was torn down like so many other classic buildings after years of fumbled attempts to save it. In 1992 I entered a logo contest and won, for a Revitalization effort in that old part of town called Thompsonville in Connecticut. In this writing I am not going to focus on the history of it's creation --you can find that online, but rather it's destruction and how for over thirty years how this village and her residents have suffered immeasurable damage and intended secrecy to deter more bad press. Today with the sum of events lived and the the recent interest in change, it sparked some old wounds. The Revitalization effort died as soon as the town official left two years later leaving a trail of community trauma, and prejudice it didn't create--the town did.

How it got it got ruined: Urban Renewal in the late 60's and 70's swept across the country gutting older main street areas and successful "live where you work" communities that produced an organically "connected community" from old industry that actually contributed more economically to a township than large corporations (MainStreet report) . Instead some ill minded leaders nationally, decided malls would be better, encourage growth and take these people out of their perfectly functioning bubbles and force them to shop elsewhere. So they bulldozed irreplaceable architecture, ripping out the heart of the village piece by piece, building by beautiful building. With the logo win, I entered this Revitalization effort to try and help those to rebuild the broken community and learn about the folks here. Then I began to learn the truth about politics and it's hold on this town. I was told many things -one of those things was how politicians made money by participating in the urban renewal destruction. The precious architecture, lost for future generations, it's history and a way of life that was permanently damaged seemingly beyond repair. Fear forced many to sell their homes and the shift towards rentals began. I learned too that this town was once coined "the All American City " in the 50's, and John F Kennedy drove through it. Oh what hell would ensue years later, shamefully and harmfully to those that stayed and new residents entering..

in 1994, after many business losses my partner would turn to rental properties now prevalent here and try to build some kind of retirement plan as we had none to lean on later. So he bought his first two family home with a VA loan and $100. down and he would be the third owner, the house belonged to a foreman who worked at the carpet mill. This was exciting at first as I had begun meeting with people, learning what I could.

In 1995, and watching an error at the closing table in 1994 for his first sale, I earned my real estate license and began a new career. In 1996, he had purchased 6 houses in two years on a shoestring budget, borrowing money from my parents. That same year we were told about a beautiful Queen Ann house listed for a steal, vacant for months. I sold it to us, moved in from my moderate income apartment, and beginning a long rental and real estate career, and within months-- an advocacy and action career here. What we did not know was what had happened from the urban renewal fallout and we lived in a town that refused to take responsibility for the pain they inflicted on the original close knit community. They send the longterm residents packing in fear. And true to form the free fall brought in vagrants, drug dealers, gun runners, prostitutes, and bred fear for those who stayed. One councilman filled me in on the parts from the 80's before we arrived.

The 90's unbeknownst to us held the continued residue of crime and drug territories, gangs, and their activities. People on the other side of town developed a hatred for this area yet we were the same zip code. We learned no one wanted to live here as I sought tenants to fill the units and all we got were evicted, low or no credit ill qualified would be residents who had no interest in staying. Rents were $600, and most didn't fulfill a year lease. Six months in our new home, one morning at 5:45am we heard what sounded like firecrackers. Later we would see dozens of police officers in front of our home and intersection. Only then did we learn why our house was vacant so long and so cheap, because we moved in next to three crack houses with massive drug traffic daily, gang visits and gun episodes. Momma bear woke up and joined every council, group, organization I could find, even becoming VP and editor of our local landlord group, later co-founding a grassroots group but later went political and controversial within two years. The Politics of this town seemed to infect people's lives and it was always the undercurrent topic of this town, like a dirty secret you didn't talk about yet everyone was disgusted about, locally.

This is where the trauma began for us, me, for other small landlords, for my real estate career, and the good people stuck in the crossfire of what the town allowed to happen. Though I wasn't the first activist trying to seek quality of life issues here, but we are still here, for me, I got a little but now with some breathing space. That visit to the town hall, that day i was symbolically realizing for me the battle is over after thirty years of literal trauma from fighting drug users, guns, destructive tenants, the town politics, the other side of Enfield . We suffered massive tenant damages and economic losses

. Worst of all for me--was the day our group met with Governor Roland in Hartford to share these issues, by evening I was in an ambulance bleeding from a tenant that smashed me in my face with my 12 year old daughter present trying to collect a rent he neglected to pay for months. I had no idea what his true lifestyle was like, as I was literally still learning how to read people and stay fair housing compliant.

The first ptsd trauma moment began that morning we heard gun shots. From there it was a daily battle of financial, emotional and mental and physical health preservation. The daily stress from unexpected events and judgement exhausted our nervous systems. I was again in survival mode trying to provide a safe haven for my children in defensive and creative modes once again. I only realized days ago by going to the town hall brought back how much we suffered being here with a town that perhaps doesn't know or care how it's own community was damaged. For example family would not visit, temporary tenants created huge economic losses, we suffered from being badmouthed from all over town and how they allowed this community to be hated, ignored, and denied the same quality of life issues they enjoyed in other parts of town. They would try to locate "recovery agencies and non profits " here because "not in my backyard" was the mantra for the entire town. We had fight to level off any more group homes, drug rehab housing, etc we were full and it wasn't in these clients best interest to be in the current environment. That was a sad reality we all had to endure.

I had a big aha moment that day seeing the "gated" town hall and it felt off and unexplained . Why are they gate keeping this public building? Do they fear something? In contrast, there was no support or protection for us families in our own town. Traumatized people often have to hide or lie about what is happening to them in order not to be targeted. And that is what it felt like, I said nothing publicly about how the town made us live and be responsible for when it should have been their job to improve their own town and reflect equal services and safety for a this community paying a higher tax base.

In the 90's to survive I had to promote the village in order to get viable long term tenants to rent and help the pay multiple mortgages, we had on only one income while buying up slumlord issues inadvertently. I had to promote the dream reality, possibilities, and that I was raising my children here and we needed families and less transient folks.

The contrast in reality for us and the parts of town we grew up in, was day and night and just like my childhood trauma or distress I turned to creating yet again. I organized positive events, art, art pieces on my lawn, illustrated suggestions for the town. It was like the two realities like when I was a kid--I had to hold the dark secrets I could never tell or you suddenly become "crazy" or become the "problem" when people can't handle the truth. I used my advocacy skills once again for others, I used my art to survive which you will see on this website. The themes just seemed parallel to past cptsd.

I recently I got wind of a new logo, they wanted to replace mine from 1992, a hand drawn image of a former streetscape depicted on town signage and older materials. Although I "retired" from the fight --beat up and broken from the losses, assault, damages, the insults of living here, I never stopped loving this village, and our beloved antique home (also to be on the website) We knew the potential of this community but we had no support in getting there.

At first I was glad they were finally getting people in the town to do what should have been done for over 40 years. The advocate spark in me ignited if but for a moment. Then I was flooded with the human emotions of being abandoned, ignored, called over emotional or too intensity at meetings trying to protect my children from the drugs, etc, and my kids feeling the discrimination from parents not allowing their friends to visit. The very program they finally want to implement I spent years trying to show the council how much we needed it. I guess you can say that was the "needs unmet" and " being ignored " as part of my childhood trauma recirculating to heal. The Mainstreet Program was finally now being adopted. Yay..good for the future of Tville. But that day I learned about it in 1998, as I sat alone in that auditorium, as a concerned citizen who learned what happened to us matched exactly and described what happened around the country destroying perfectly organic communities. I recapped it and packaged it to bring to the town council and committees on my own time. Years later a council person brought it up too but rejected then too. The truth was they were not going to spend any money to properly manage the problems urban renewal created--as it wasn't "fair" to other parts of town, which was repeated mindset of the town for as long as we have been there. Other parts of town did not get with the same bulldozers and uncertainty that had affected this area especially. I guess that scenario relating to trauma reminds me of being the child scapegoat, blamed for the family problems that I never created, --they did. I understood the dynamics of, but could never fix--It wasn't up to me, it was the parents dysfunction that bled into us kids and moreover me. I see the town as he parent of the small areas of town that have names as subsections of town, like children. They blamed our village for the problems when it superseded us and other families or residents trying to live here. Many left when they saw their energy and safety could be better spent elsewhere. How did I think I could have any impact when so many others were driven out. We had too much invested to run. So I guess more wounds to heal, circles to close.

I'm sure AI could better phrase what I am trying to say here, but me saying it is therapeutic, maybe later I can be more effective with translating through AI. I struggle with writing.

I know on a soul level this too has been another opportunity for me to close another circle of wounding. The big question for me is how do I move forward and process some of the hurt, and stay positive should I decide today to share some of the highlights of my creative ambitions that could actually live on. I do know that GetSoul'd was created for me to get through all of the difficult stuff I didn't know how to process then, and provide a voice and maybe some inspiration from this journey. Tville was a huge layer of lessons, karma, advocacy, and

layers of emotional, mental, physical effects. I am a little resentful that so many great people before me were pushed out, exhausted and having lost valuable energy on a town that lost it's identity, which that too I definitely can relate to. It's time to work on me fully.

s