The "dilapidated buildings" might have included reference to the Book-Go-Round, which is part of the Historical Park, but I assume that the real reference was to the Historical Museum and the McWilliams House, both of which are old. The museum is one or two years short of 100 and the McWilliams House is way past that. Both need structural repair, which is in the works.

But I contend that the museum, especially, is anything but dilapidated. The repairs have mainly to do with steps at the entryway, but the overall appearance of the building is sound, and that goes for the interior. It's a good, solid building. Coming soon is an addition at the rear of the museum that will be of the same exterior appearance. I suppose one way of looking at it would be as built-in dilapidation.

The McWilliams House needs some fixing, but I think its appearance, especially the exterior, is good. It simply doesn't look dilapidated (dictionary definition: "reduced to or fallen into ruin or decay"). What really hurts in the park description, though, is the virtual ignoring of the garden at the front of the property, unless this is the "brown vegetation" referred to. There is mention of "adding landscape to the garden," but it doesn't say anything about what that garden is. The garden is an exquisite piece of landscaping accomplished by people from the Saratoga Ward of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It is a credit to the church and its members who do the work in maintaining it, as well as to the community at large.

It's one of those features that identify Saratoga as a town that cares. In an era of faceless suburbia, this idea of community identity takes on an added measure of importance. Where one is from can be a powerful influence on one's attitude. (You say you're going to take out those trees and put in a shopping center? Why, in Saratoga we have a heritage orchard that's like the ones that used to cover this valley. We wouldn't give it up for anything. It's part of what we are.)

Local history can be a major factor in establishing and preserving community identity. In Saratoga, we have two principal agencies for this, the Saratoga Historical Foundation, which goes back more than 40 years, and the city's Heritage Preservation Commission, which adds a municipal imprimatur to decisions on historical issues. The city Planning Commission is also concerned with these matters.

There is a fine line between what represents sentimental nostalgia and what is of genuine historical significance. I think of long-gone buildings, such as the old town jail, that were almost casually disposed of and which today would probably be treasured as artifacts. The jail was at the stub end of Fourth Street, by the tower that held the town fire bell. It was a wooden building that apparently was used mainly for incarcerating drunks. It hadn't been used since about the time of World War I, and in 1937, when a woman—I think she owned the property—wanted to use the lumber to build a garage next to her house on Oak Street, there was no public outcry when the jail was torn down. Today, I'm sure there would be some effort to save it, maybe even put it in the historical park.

A more significant structure of genuine architectural merit that was scrapped was the 1895 Catholic Church at Sixth Street and Big Basin Way.

There is a whole governmental structure now, for the preservation and recognition of historic buildings, with such things as property tax advantage in some cases. I think there is a growing awareness of the need for meaningful historical preservation in terms of community identity, and I'd like to think that Saratoga is taking significant steps to meet that need. The Heritage Orchard and the Historical Park are examples, and the Historical Foundation and the Heritage Commission are there to help those who wish to become better-attuned to their local legacy.