
By Reno Bailey
What would Cliffside have been like if, instead of a privately owned
enterprise, it had been an incorporated town?
For one thing, the private development of homes, industries, businesses
and institutions would have lent more permanence to the community,
providing many more choices of employment and skill development to
a wider range of people, and a broader basis for individual growth
in wages, lifestyles, tastes and ambition.
Had it been incorporated, Cliffside would have had a municipal
government to build and maintain streets; run and maintain water,
sewer and electrical facilities; enforce zoning standards; promote
expansion; provide many other services such as libraries, schools,
parks, security, etc.; all of which would have required some level
of taxation.
Things would have been better in many ways. Individual home ownership
would have prevented housing standards from languishing for decades
at the levels of the 1920s. (Rows of outdoor toilets would not have
been visible in 1950s photos.) Homes would have appreciated in value,
for they would have been upgraded by individual
owners long before reaching a state of disrepair that, by the 1960s,
offered no alternative to anything but demolition.
In an atmosphere of private development, there would have been a
variety of businesses hiring professionals, tradesmen, craftsmen,
technicians and laborers, whose livelihoods and futures would have
been independent of the fortunes of a single employer like Cliffside
Mills.
There would have been much more than a life in the mill to entice
young people to remain and raise their families.
In this scenario Cliffside would probably still exist—but
as a much larger place populated mostly by strangers, with
homes and businesses intact, with big city problems, with the river
paved over and a shiny big Wal-Mart taking up the top half of what
used to be River Street.
On the other hand…
As it was, people in Cliffside were tenants in housing that
was at least adequate for the time, and practically rent-free. We
were secure in the knowledge we would not face eviction if times
turned bad. We paid no local taxes, for most of our municipal needs
were met by a generous, paternal employer who cared for our
welfare in dozens of ways.
The company made certain, with substantial corporate funding, that
ours was the best run, best equipped school
in the county. For many years, the company
quietly gave quarterly supplements and free housing to our state-paid
teachers. It saw to it that we had convenient and adequate sources
of food, clothing, medical care, and entertainment—so convenient
that many Cliffside families never owned an automobile; they could,
for the most part, walk wherever they needed to go.
In return, the company asked only that we earn our pay, act responsibly
and decently, and show respect for our fellow citizens.
One of the effects of all this, for better or worse, was uniformity.
Most of us were pretty much alike, in income, dress, attitudes, values,
and behavior. To our fellow townspeople, whom we all knew, we were
caring, supportive, compassionate and appreciative.
And we were (and still are) intensely proud of a town that, for
all practical purposes, no longer exists. We couldn’t have
it both ways.