What's good for one little town is good for all the little towns.

In the great cities we see so little of the world, we drift into our minority. In the little towns and villages there are no minorities; people are not numerous enough. You must see the world there, perforce. Every man is himself a class; every hour carries its new challenge. When you pass the inn at the end of the village you leave your favourite whimsy behind you; for you will meet no one who can share it. We listen to eloquent speaking, read books and write them, settle all the affairs of the universe. The dumb village multitudes pass on unchanging; the feel of the spade in the hand is no different for all our talk: good seasons and bad follow each other as of old. The dumb multitudes are no more concerned with us than is the old horse peering through the rusty gate of the village pound. The ancient map-makers wrote across unexplored regions, 'Here are lions.' Across the villages of fishermen and turners of the earth, so different are these from us, we can write but one line that is certain, 'Here are ghosts.' ("Village Ghosts")

The fountain of youth, if you want to coin that phrase, because it sort of gives the entire area a chance for rebirth.

Instead of being now a small, little sleepy town, we have an opportunity to grow real quickly. It's going to take some commitment. It's going to take some out-of-the-box thinking.

This will be a tremendous boost for our area because textile has been king for a hundred years or more. We just happen to all be living in a time when we're seeing, for lack of a better term, the death nail.

We've had examples of this, in our town and in other towns. We started discussing what to do about it several years ago, and the support for it just built during that time.