Flowers Instead of Grates at the Library
Sometimes progress in Streator doesn’t come with a groundbreaking or a big check from Springfield. Sometimes it comes with a trowel, a watering can, and someone who decides that bare dirt doesn’t belong at the front door of our public library.
That’s what happened this week when Nina Vaughn planted perennials at the base of a tree in front of the Streator Public Library. The tree has been sitting without a grate for years, just a dusty patch where nothing much happened. Now, with a few flowers tucked in, the corner suddenly feels cared for. It’s the kind of simple gesture that makes downtown look less forgotten and more loved.
Brett Baumrucker, never shy about praising the small wins, shared Nina’s work online and used it to make a larger point. Tree grates might serve some purpose in theory, but in practice they mostly collect cigarette butts and weeds. A bed of flowers, by contrast, actually invites people to stop and notice. It softens the concrete, adds color, and reminds us that downtown doesn’t have to be all pavement and planters.
The Practical Questions
Of course, Streatorites are nothing if not practical. “Who’s going to water them?” came the immediate question. As it turns out, Public Works already waters the planters and coal carts downtown three times a week with a dedicated water truck. Nina is committed to care too. So, no, these flowers won’t be left to wilt.
Others pointed to Ottawa, where downtown plantings have long been part of the landscape. Ottawa’s look good, though some say they’re a bit overgrown, a reminder that plantings have to be scaled to fit the space. Still, the comparison is useful. Ottawa leans on volunteers. Streator could do the same, without overcomplicating things. A simple “adopt-a-tree bed” list could be enough to keep the watering and weeding going.
A Tradition of Planting
Planting trees and flowers downtown is not a new idea in Streator. From the earliest days, when Unionville was transforming into Streator, planting shade trees was considered part of building a real town. Later, our industrial wealth brought civic projects like the library itself. The coal carts and planters we see today are echoes of that same impulse—to make the public realm a little better than bare concrete.
The trouble is, we sometimes talk ourselves out of the simple fixes. We wait for the big plan, the streetscape project, the once-in-a-generation investment. Meanwhile, the little things—like planting flowers where there’s an empty patch of dirt—get ignored.
What It Could Mean
Imagine, for a moment, if each block had just a few of these plantings. Not wild jungles spilling into the sidewalk, but neat perennial beds at the bases of trees. Suddenly Main Street doesn’t look like a stretch of hot pavement and empty tree grates. It looks tended, softened, alive.
Will flowers alone turn around downtown? Of course not. But they will make it easier for someone walking past to feel proud instead of indifferent. They’ll give visitors a reason to say, “It looks nice down here.” And that matters more than we admit.
A Modest Beginning
So let’s thank Nina Vaughn for setting an example, and Brett Baumrucker for reminding us to notice. Downtown doesn’t need another rusty grate to catch gum and ashes. It needs more people willing to plant something, even if it’s just a few flowers by the library.
That’s how progress happens here—not all at once, not with fanfare, but one small patch at a time.
