I’ve written before about making Whitewater hip and prosperous. Those sketch-posts were part of an ongoing series about the city.

Today, not a suggestion but an observation: the kind of energetic newcomers that Whitewater needs will be unsettling to many of those longtime residents now looking for newcomers. (Some residents would not like anyone new, of course; I’m writing about those who see the importance of new arrivals to the city’s economy.)

New people, especially successful and energetic ones, will not simply fit into Whitewater; they’ll transform it. Arrival is not a pledge to do what has always been done, although there’s more than one stodgy town father who thinks so. The city is not a hidebound club, with cultural membership rules that must be obeyed, although there’s more than one stodgy town father who thinks so.

Ambitious people who come here will come here to make their marks, not to copy others’ marks as mere scribes.

This is why the stodgiest of residents prefer no new residents, and why some others like idea of newcomers more than they would like the genuine articles. It’s the difference, for them, between wanting and getting new residents.

For those who want the present to continue unaltered into the future, there’s a daunting task: work each day and every day, morning and night, to make certain that ‘everything has a place, and that there’s only one place for everything.’

They’ve sure to contend for their vision of Whitewater, however long ago. For the change-opposed, there’s probably an appeal in Whitewater as a real life version of Pleasantville, while still in black-and-white.

Only two things matter about a vision of Whitewater-as-Pleasantville: the transition to color can’t be stopped, and happily not, as Joan Allen was far lovelier in color

The good work of the city is mostly unseen, and so unrecognized. One finds it in the private, charitable and civic commitments of so many. These civic-minded people do what they do because they believe it’s right, and they do so without expectation that they’ll find their efforts mentioned in newspapers, websites, blogs, or on Facebook.

I went out yesterday, to meet someone like this, and to thank her for her long hours of work on behalf of others.

She was as one would expect her to be – patiently serving the community. We had not met before, although I have known of her work for years. In this (as among other things, surely), I have been remiss.

She was engaging and charming. There was a temptation to talk a bit more, but it would have been an indulgence. She was truly working; I was casually visiting. The fewer her distractions, the better.

I’m out and about often – here and visiting other places across Wisconsin — but it’s rare that I introduce myself, as I did yesterday. The best part of a visit is meeting someone, having a conversation, and hearing what someone has to say. In visits, watching and listening mean more than saying and announcing.

Sometimes, though, simply saying thanks is the order of the day, as it was yesterday.

The pleasure was mine.