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To my neighbors on West Street north of Woburn Street,
What happened to clearing the sidewalk in front of your house after it snows? A few of you did this week, but most of you didn’t. Maybe your lives are just too car-centric, but some of us have dogs that need to be walked, and some of us don’t drive. Maybe some of you have gone back to in-person work and were not home all day. I realize that being able to work from home all the time is more convenient in a lot of ways. Maybe because this winter has been so mild, you got lulled into thinking we’d make it through to April without any more storms, and were caught unprepared.
I know this week’s storm was unpredictable, and that by Thursday morning the snow that had fallen overnight was already starting to freeze. I know it was difficult to remove from the sidewalk, because my wife and I were out there doing it. (Maybe you saw us as you drove by?) But that didn’t stop us from doing it, because we understand the element of courtesy to fellow humans inherent in the unwritten, unspoken civil contract.
I also know that most (if not all) of you have access to snow removal equipment, which was somewhat effective even with snow this wet and heavy. I know this because my nephew, who lives in the cottage behind our house, used our blower to clear our driveway.
I’m aware that the town clears the sidewalk on the west (even-numbers) side of our street so kids can walk to school safely, but until this past week we’d had so little snow this winter that I don’t think they’ve had to clear it at all, plus this was vacation week. Will the town show up to clear that sidewalk before Monday? Who knows? But it snowed on Thursday the 23rd and it’s now two days later. “I’m waiting for the town to do it” is a lame excuse.
Some of you are older than me, and walking on our street is very unsafe at the moment regardless of your age—but it’s certainly worse for anyone older. We can’t walk in the street because that isn’t safe either; I don’t have to tell you that the curve of the street and the elevation changes make for some blind spots, and that cars drive too fast through here.
I’ve only lived here for a little over two years. I’ve gotten to know many of you from seeing you when I’m out walking the dog. (A few of you don’t acknowledge me when I wave and say hi, or even look me in the eye. That puzzles me, but I try not to take it personally.) Some I’ve yet to have the opportunity to meet or speak to in person. If we haven’t met, we’re the ones with the black greyhound.
I realize that writing this for publication in the town’s news outlet might be perceived as passive-aggressive. That isn’t my intention at all; because going door to door is unrealistic, I thought that this was the best way to share my feelings with as many of you as possible.
I feel good about living here among you—we were incredibly fortunate to find this place that suits our needs so well at exactly the right time. But I’m surprised and disappointed by what happened this week. And there’s more snow on the way.
Dean Ricciardi
West Street
