Craft Show, Milford. October 2010
[from FB post: June 13, 2010]
I had a late afternoon walk around town. It was so dead for a lovely Saturday afternoon. I don't know how our merchants are going to survive here if they don't make any money this summer. I'm afraid Milford will just become a ghost town...
Ahh idyllic Milford [see: living large in little Milford], how much you and many similar towns and burgs counted on day-trippers and weekenders from New York and Philadelphia for survival. Living in a seasonal town was unusual. From Memorial Day weekend through the fall foliage season, maybe even up through Thanksgiving, Milford was abuzz in activity - especially weekends. After that, little Milford could have been a backdrop for the Walking Dead.
That dead time was December to May. In those months, the residents of Milford reclaimed their town. Every place became "local" and the whole feel of the town was different. Those were the months I got to know the real Milford. With the exception of the diner, most businesses just hung on by a thread during the long, lean months until the tourists again started to drive "up to the Poconos". For this reason, many establishments came and went during my decade in the boro and its environs. It's not easy to have a business model that builds in 4-5 months of near zero income. Even if people said they knew about it and made the appropriate business model, it was difficult.
In the dark times (literally during the season with shortest days), life shifted earlier in the day. It was not weird to go out to the bar at 5pm and greet other friends and residents there. Places were pretty much closed up by 9pm, too. Most patrons were working stiffs, not holiday-makers. The change in Milford was dramatic because all those New Yorkers cocooned in their warm homes in Manhattan and Brooklyn during Pennsylvania's cold. They most likely winterized their Milford houses, locked the doors, and didn't show up again until Memorial Day. Milford even changed politically - tourist season was blue, the winter dark was red.
The problem was not the winter - it was the summer. What if it was a cold, cloudy summer? What if most weekends were rainy? what if? what if? It didn't take much to torpedo a business over the summer if the usual tourist crowds didn't show up. After the real estate correction of 2008 and the subsequent economic downturn, that indeed happened. People were not opening their wallets and the boro fell on hard times. Places went out of business . It was sad, but it helped me to understand more about Milford's economy and mentality. It had lived through this kind of boom and bust from its very inception as a country escape for big city residents.
At the Muir House, only a few of us hardy regulars would sit at the bar off season. We languished on the stools and complained about how dull town felt and that we all became so isolated from the "outside world". Milford in winter was a prison. In those times, anyone who had lived in the City missed it. The Fauchère was even more dire because during the "long dark" they refused to accommodate locals with even a hint of lower prices. The place was literally shunned by the "townies". Only the deep pockets of its owner saw it through the big cold each year. Other businesses limped by without any fallback, often claiming this year "might be their last".
The summer always came, however, and the New Yorkers and Philadelphians arrived in droves with open wallets. Everyone in Milford was again drunk on summer fun and cash. The winter was forgotten. Milford, as I have commented before, became idyllic - a place everyone wanted to live.
As for me, I only did a few full winters in Milford. With no gardening and many renovations not possible in cold weather, I would be cooped up in the big Museum House for weeks on end without much to do. Finally, I ended up wintering in Singapore. Literally, the day after the Thanksgiving travel madness ended, I was on a plane to the Lion City. I stayed till mid-March or sometimes mid-April, but never more. Finding a place for the cats, engaging someone to check in on the house, dealing with mail, and so many other things were occasionally problematic, but overall I made it work. After four months in Singapore, I genuinely missed the cats, the garden, and my friends in Milford. I was happy to come "home".
I cheated, in a way. I was not behaving like a local and suffering through the winter. Few of my friends begrudged me since if they could have escaped, they would have, too. Everyone just suffered through the winter "withdrawal" waiting for that "tourist fix" that would bring people and money back to little Milford. Like all people in the boro, they too were connected to tourism and the summer influx of visitors that made everyone forget the winter ever happened.
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