This won't mean much to many, but the Executive Inn Rivermont in Owensboro shut its doors this past Monday. The "Big E" offered lodging, convention space, dining and entertainment down by the river. As you can tell from the picture above, it's heyday clearly was in a bygone era. Opened in 1977, it was big news for Owensboro - making the town into a city and allowing the wider world into a "know-your-neighbor" town. Johnny Cash played here back when Hee-Haw was still prime viewing for America.
The "Big E" was an investment into what Owensboro might be. "Should be" some said. And, yet, there was never the complete conviction from the whole community. Indeed, for the vast majority of its life, the hotel existed because of the vision of outsiders - entrepreneurs come to town to transform a place. Which is probably why it finds itself out of business. It is also precisely why its closing is now all the talk of the town. A community's identity is on the line again. Questions about purpose and future are subconsciously at play. People at Barney's eating a plate lunch are talking. Coworkers are stopping in hallways to reminisce and bemoan.
A few days ago, the headline in the Messenger-Inquirer (local newspaper) read "Hotel Still Waiting for White-Knight." The hope was for Savior, Messiah. The assumption was that having a hotel, convention center and entertainment location was a good thing - yes - but that in order for the good to survive something outside of the people would have to make it so. But, even if a white knight rode into town, cleared the debts off the books and reopened the hotel, would that really be beneficial to this community? Probably not.
The larger issue at play here, and the very reason that people across Daviess County are talking about the hotel’s closing as if it were a death in the family, is identity. The Executive Inn's closing has the smell of finality, even death to a degree. It’s not that the Executive Inn has been everything for the city recently. There are more promising places and ventures in town, but for pure symbolism the "Big E" held the collective breath of the community. When it was built, the community's chest swelled with pride. Now, deflation is working its way through the people.
This is also precisely why this single event has gripped me. I am captured by the symbolism of the Executive Inn and by the meaning of its demise. I - being called to enter into this community to embrace these people, to find where God is active in this place and to invite people to lift up their eyes to see God at work and to join that work - have to ask the question: what does this say about this community?
I think - for one - it says that a community can only nourish and sustain something it believes. Not what John Bays - recent entrepreneur and owner of the "Big E" - believes. Not in what corporate demographic studies believe. In Owensboro – for better and for worse – success depends not on the value of the initiative but on the support of the community.
The Executive Inn’s closing also says – to me – that this community doesn’t quite know where it is headed, which isn’t either good or bad. It simply is. A crossroad is present. Built upon eras and generations of remaining true to its provincial heritage, Owensboro is once again wondering if it will have a place in the future. Will it be forgotten? Will it be relevant? And is relevancy the single most important quality for a community?
Approximately six years ago, First Presbyterian Church of Owensboro lost its head pastor after a tenuous season, conflicted season. It was a shock to the system – reverberating uncomfortably close to the sound of a death knell. After roughly 150 years of existence as a community, the church was faced with the dramatic reality that life is not a guarantee. The future seemed more like something that would have to be secured through prayer, hard work and commitment.
Since the departure of the pastor in 2002, the church has done much. But I am left to wonder if all that the church has done is change management. The church has called a new head pastor, myself as an associate, a new youth director and a new musician. But, for the most part, these additions have been additions from outside the traditional community (i.e. – not locally grown developments). A few new initiatives have grown from within the community, including a thriving fellowship group for the 50 plus crowd.
But, overall, the church seems at risk of hoping and letting other people create a new life for them. That may get them down the road a bit further, but it won’t save them. Efforts have been made to get conversations going amongst the people about its future, about its hopes. But, largely those deeper questions have been parlayed into talk of building or remodeling the church facility, which may or may not be necessary. Still, the main question is this: where do these people want to go? How are they discerning where God is and where God is leading them? What do they hope?
Just over two years ago, the first building in Owensboro I set foot in was the Executive Inn Rivermont. I was met inside its cavernous, antiquated confines by a sweet woman who would shortly lead me over to First Presbyterian Church – a few miles away from the "Big E." Time will tell how close the two buildings are. Time will tell what the community decides to do with these two establishments. For me, it is my hope that the community will rise up even as the buildings they once honored face uncertain times.
There is a season for everything. I season to pluck up and a season to plant. God knows which is which.
Wes
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