"If you write it, they will understand."
I looked up, trying to comprehend the words. And a vision appeared before my eyes. Well, not really a vision. An angel.
"Hi there," the hovering angel said. "I'm Bruce. Bruce the Angel."
I stared at this image, this mirage dressed in pseudo-Victorian clothes. Then I rubbed my eyes. Man, this is one bad dream. Maybe it's Heritage Days II. Maybe I was being zoned into by Sam as part of a Quantum Leap episode.
No such luck.
What do you want? Is my time up? Am I going ... well, wherever I'm supposed to go in the afterworld?
"No, no." Bruce smiled. "Nothing like that. I'm not that kind of angel."
Something about his smile made me trust him.
So tell me, Bruce. What's up?
"I'm here to advise you. To give you a message for West Branch merchants."
Come on, Bruce. I don't own a store. What makes you think business owners in West Branch will listen to me?
"I'm willing to give it a shot. Do you think they'll listen to me? Get real."
Great. A psycho angel.
"I'm not psycho ... can I have a seat? My wings are getting pretty tired up here."
Sure.
"How about a smoke?"
I stared at him. Sorry, no smoking allowed. Now tell me. What are you talking about?
"It's the strip, Paul. Businesses. Downtown. Victorian theme. The works. And the traffic problem, too. West Branch is at a turning point, and it's up to you to help them out."
Right. What do I look like, the messiah?
"I'm serious, you geek. Hear me out. You've go this new mall, the Tanger Center. Right? And now this amphitheater, this Palace of Auburn Hills ..."
Garden of Ogemaw Hills.
"Whatever. This summer concert thing, it's a go. The city is growing. The area is expanding. And now, West Branch is stuck in the middle. Caught in a vortex of changes and transformation."
Will you stop babbling! What do you mean? And can you take your feet off the coffee table?
"Oh. Sorry. What do I mean? West Branch wants to keep this small-town, Victorian-era theme. But it also wants to be one of the 'big boys.' Well, it can't work both ways. Not without some changes."
He leaned back. "First thing businesses here gotta learn is, get some reasonable hours."
I know what you mean, Bruce. I'm working when all the downtown stores are open. By the time I get off work, they're closed. And I can't go shopping.
"And you're not alone, Paul. If stores were open till, say, 9 p.m., you'd have the chance to do some shopping. If the stores would stay open later, they'd make a killing!"
OK. What else?
"Well, they're putting in a turn lane by the Tanger Center, but I doubt it will be enough. Even if they put in one traffic light, it wouldn't really help out the stores up there. Or the traffic problems. The only thing it would do is keep most cars from darting onto the business loop.
"But cars, trucks and the like will be backed up beyond I-75, maybe even worse than right now, because Cook Road traffic will have to stop for a while."
So, what's the answer?
"I think a service drive would solve all the problems. Set up two traffic lights - in front of Tanger's and out by Arby's - and have that one drive go behind all the businesses on the north side. Connect all the parking lots to that loop, and close the current drives onto the business loop. Voila! You've got less congestion and a safer situation."
I still can't believe no one saw all this coming down when Tanger was proposed in the first place, Bruce. It would have made life on the Hill a lot easier for everyone. There must have been someone at Tanger who knew there would be this huge traffic influx. After all, West Branch isn't the first complex they've built.
"True."
You'd think someone in charge - whether in the county's zoning department, or the Tanger architects, or MDOT or whomever - would have said, when this project was first conceived, "Hey - why don't we make a service drive part of the deal?"
"You'd think so."
Why don't you send a zoning angel down to talk to the county boys about planning? Maybe when Tanger expands, the officials will require them to handle the traffic problems before issuing a building permit.
"Sorry, Paul, the zoning angels are all busy with that Tiger Stadium project in Detroit."
So what you're saying is we're stuck with this traffic problem which is causing thousands of drivers havoc on the road.
"Now you're getting it ... it is your job to show business owners the light. Let them know how important it is to have a service drive down there."
We've been through this already, Bruce ... these business people ain't gonna listen to me - not when it means spending money.
"If you write it, they will understand. They are not going to let the bottom line be that they're willing to live with dangerous situations along Hamburger Hill."
You know, Bruce, you could be right. I'll write it ... they will understand. Thanks.
"Hey, no problem." He glanced at his watch. "I'm running late. Sorry, Paul. That's all I got time for now. Good luck with it."
Thanks, Bruce. Fly safely out there.
"No problem."
And he left, ascending into the heavens, that stupid smile still on his face.
I wonder if anyone will take his words seriously.
This article originally appeared in the Ogemaw County Herald.
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