Your Name Here

I worked for some years in a city that loved to name squares, recreational facilities, and boulevards for locally notable individuals. But it wasn’t much of a deal when the sign came down twenty years later. Then the following week, there was a dedication ceremony for the Lucrezia Borgia Memorial Square. Over the years, I saw this pattern repeated. It was a large city, so unless you were watching, you might not notice the locations dedicated to Civil War vets were rededicated in time to others.
This pattern was strange in a city that claimed a storied history and several nationally prominent colleges. Then I realized that it was happening in the neighborhoods, not the downtown areas or near the universities.
The neighborhood I primarily worked in had been, by turns, working-class, Yankee, working-class Irish, working-class Italian, and Portuguese, with a smattering of other ethnicities thrown in. The sponsors for these dedications tend to be the district city councilors.
I was had lunch one day with a friend. She asked me to come to a local park on Saturday. She didn’t have a camera and wanted me to take pictures of the plaque dedicating the park in honor of her husband. The photos would prove to her great-grandkids the park had once been named for her family. I laughed and thought she was joking, but she pointed out that the municipal building where I had my office had three names in fifty years. Then I noticed the pattern.
I was back in the old neighborhood a few years ago and noted the park still had her family name. But the building where I had my office now sported a new sign. If that city were to ever name something for me, I’d wonder for how long.

Daily writing prompt

If you could have something named after you, what would it be?

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