Our homes are our most cherished investments.
When we began looking for a community in which to buy our first house and start a family, Cary figured predominately into our decision making. My wife grew up in Barrington and knew the area well. We toured the village, looked into the schools and immediately fell in love with Cary's charm and small town appeal.
We moved here in 2002. Since then, we have started a family and are busily raising two small boys.
And now the idyllic town that we fell in love with may no longer hold the same appeal that brought us here.
We may become neighbors to a large, noisy, dusty gravel pit. An eyesore, much like the one that exists to the south.
Our homes are our most cherished investments. In these troubling economic times our house value has plummeted as homes all over Cary sit vacant or at reduced prices.
A pit will only exacerbate the situation.
Anyone living near the pit will not be able to sell their homes. They can only sit and helplessly watch the value of their investment fall.
In the meantime, Meyer Material will add millions of dollars to their bottom line. Cary will get a kickback.
And the homeowners will suffer.
The suffering will continue when Meyer Material looks to expand further North into Hoffman Park. Greenfields and Cimarron will be next.
And what is the root of this? Plain and simple: greed.
Money talks. And Meyer has plenty of it and can get the best lawyers, bribe village officials with annual payments, produce flashy presentations that magically turn their eyesore into a beautiful park that will "benefit" Cary for years to come.
In the meantime, the citizens of Cary are held hostage. If this truly was a representative government where the will of the people was rooted in all decisions, it would not be the middle of December with this issue still on the table.
The issue would have been decided months ago with a resounding "no!"
As we get ready to celebrate this holiday season, the Village of Cary stands ready to approve a plan that will irrevokably change the entire nature of this village and threaten our most cherished investment.
This isn't Bedford Falls. There isn't a George Bailey to stand up to the sinister Mr. Potter here. This is not the the realm of Mr. Cratchit or Jacob Marley's ghost.
This is Cary, Illinois.
And all we hope in this holiday season is for the happy ending that we have seen over and over again in reruns of Chistmases past.
