Article from the Arlington Journal
 by Karen Murray
April 17, 1996
Up Here in North Barcroft,
we're going around in circles
We have been having this thing here in
Barcroft and I love it, I really love it, if
only as a signpost to a future when
something like this should be every
neighborhood's biggest worry.
We have one of those intersections that
make Arlington famous, where streets
come in at odd angles and undergo
transmutation into entirely other streets
somewhere in the middle of the asphalt.
The intersection also seems to be on the
Via Reggia between the two major arteries
that enclose Barcroft on the north and
south.
Locals were beefing about the hell-bound
traffic that barreled through, with mighty
debates about how best to stem the tide
before something nasty happened, as
reported monthly in the neighborhood
circular.
Ideas got kicked around at Civic League
meetings, the county was consulted, and ,
what we ended up with was this traffic
circle. Experimental, you understand, just
a hoop of asphalt filled in with mulch.
There was all manner of comment, from
contentions that the circle was worse than
the traffic to enormous cheers that the
speeders were slowing down. One grumpy
resident complained publicly that the
traffic problem would go away if "illegal
immigrants in their beat-up cars¯ quit
driving through Barcroft. ("Hello, INS?
We've found a point of entry!")
So the circle stayed there for a while,
and then one morning at the end of my
racewalk I chugged through the
intersection to find a county truck with
guys peeling that sucker right up off the
asphalt.
Now for a confession from a sincere
believer in civic involvement: Every time
one of these neighborhood meetings took
place I'd swear I'd go and then find out I had
to work that evening. So I just assumed the
circle was bye-bye. Nah. After a brief
interval, another circle appeared. Tidge
smaller than the last. On three sides the
circle sports identical signs-no words (is
this a concession to the assumed
immigrants?), only some symbols with
dots, circles and arrows that suggest the
message "Flying Saucer Crossing," or
perhaps the logos on athletic gear.
Not long after-slightly before crocuses
began to poke through for real-someone
slipped out under cover of night and
landscaped the entire damn thing in silk
flowers. Pansies, mostly.
No one would admit to it. Not in public,
anyhow. I had a chat with one of the Civic
League yeomen but he claimed to know
nothing. Meanwhile the landscaping
became more lavish and decorative. (There
is something to be said for flowers that can
be moved around like pushpins.)
I missed another meeting, and out came
another newsletter. The traffic circle was
voted down. (As of that newsletter. This
may not mean anything.)
The next Sunday was Easter. Brightly
colored eggs, the plastic kind you can open
up and fill with party favors, nestled under
the floral rows adorning the circle. On
Easter Monday, there were a teddy bear, a
stuffed toy puppy and a woolly baa-lamb.
I can't decide if someone who likes that
circle is trying to make it too cute to
destroy, or whether it's taken on a life of its
own. I mean, I may even be accused of
being the Phantom Gardener, on account I
straightened out the teddy bear when it got
blown too close to the road. You can't just
leave a teddy bear nose down on the
pavement.
I say, spare the traffic circle. Some
places have a cannon in the town square.
We have Easter eggs and-think of the
possibilities. Maypoles? What about
Halloween? I think it's achieved its
purpose. Even the most undesirable
alien-don't forget those flying
saucers-in the most deplorable vehicle
would slow down to enjoy it.
And I will get to one of those meetings. I
promise.
Karen Murray lives in Arlington. Her
column appears Wednesdays.
Copyright 1995 Journal Newspapers, Inc. - - Used with permission.
This page was last revised on: September 13, 2000.
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