Only a few days before Christmas, the little town of Lonaconing is not quite as merry as usual. And it’s a lot less bright.
While nearby towns sparkle with lights, this tiny coal-mining community isolated in the mountains of western Maryland lies still and sparsely decorated. Unless you count the blowup Grinch on Main Street.
Some locals put up the Grinch early as a prank–and protest–after a utility pole dispute forced the town to abandon its 68-year tradition of stringing colored bulbs across Main Street.
Now, having canceled its annual lighting ceremony, Lonaconing is celebrating with a nativity scene and storefront garland–but with none of its old-fashioned lights.
“Everyone is disappointed,” said Mayor Jack Coburn. “We feel we’ve been discriminated against. How can you tell one town that you can’t do this when all the surrounding communities have lights on their poles?”
Next to the Grinch, in a park at Main and Union Streets, is a sign that says the entire town knows “who really stole Christmas from Lonaconing.” Indeed, folks here are quick to finger two corporate culprits: Verizon Maryland Inc. and Allegheny Power.
The companies say they had no choice but to warn the town that its planned decorations didn’t meet electrical safety standards and could be dangerous.
Stringing holiday lights from telephone and power poles is a tradition in Maryland and across the country in hundreds of small towns that have few street lamps. It’s no big deal, says Allen Staggers, Allegheny Power’s director of corporate communications, unless a hazard is reported.
“We don’t go around inspecting everyone’s Christmas lights,” Staggers said. Lonaconing’s troubles are “unique,” he said, prompted by the town’s desire to upgrade its display, which led to a lengthy engineering review.
“Had they just put their lights as they did for umpteen years,” he says, “they’d probably be up now.”
Faced with less-than-cheery tidings from Verizon that dressing up its poles “without permission is illegal and can be prosecuted as trespassing”–the town council reluctantly voted Dec. 5 to leave the lights boxed up in the firehouse.
More Top Picks Best Chelsea Boots For Girls
For Lonaconing, lighting Main Street was a cherished ritual, one that survived even as the town’s silk and textile mills went out of business and its population shrank from 2,289 in 1950 to 1,178 today. More than two generations of families were dazzled by the big, shimmering bulbs.
Last summer, a committee began collecting money for new lights and quickly raised $3,000, says Michael Staup, the publicity chairman.
Everyone was getting in the Christmas spirit, though it was barely autumn, when the town called Allegheny Power to inspect pole outlets and install some additional ones. It seemed a simple request, but it triggered extensive inspections and discussions about legal risks.
Coburn, the 41-year-old mayor, splurged on two reindeer to make his hometown look more festive. That’s it for now. But he’s vowed “we’re going to fight until we get our lights.”