In 1962, one hundred eleven Atlanta art patrons died in a plane crash in Paris. The victims were members of the Atlanta Art Association who had chartered a plane to hear the Atlanta orchestra play in Paris.  They were Atlanta’s leaders - judges and executives and wealthy folks from long lineages of money.  They were the Establishment.  The Blue Bloods.  And then one day, they were all dead.

Last year, someone asked me, “what would have happened to Atlanta if those folks hadn’t died?”  I wonder, would the city have grown to its current status as one of America’s best, most diverse cities, or would it have languished beneath the weight of large egos, fortunes and notions of grandeur?

I do not know the answer, nor can I speculate.  But as we work in cities across North America, I often get a birds-eye view of leadership structures that would benefit if a few people died.  Let’s call these places “Old Town.”  In Old Town, YP’s (young professionals) feel disenfranchised because the “good old boys network” is still operative.  In these communities, who’s-your-daddy may be more important than what’s-your-idea.  And that’s a darn shame.

Old Town power-brokers cling tightly to their past - to the ideas, people and institutions that delivered them to power.  They cannot for a moment bring their sights to rest on the present.  The present is frightening.  It operates at a speed which blows their hair back. The present clouds the distinctions between their enemies and their allies.  My dad, a WWII vet, commented on this last point: “World War Two was easier than the War on Terror because the enemy wore a different uniform.  We knew who to shoot.”

In Old Town, who’s-right and who’s-wrong is easy to discern because there are only two sides to every story: the side of the power-brokers (the correct side of the argument) and the side of everyone else (the wrong side.)  There is little honest intellectual debate in Old Town because new ideas are a threat to the systems which put and keep the Establishment in power.  In Old Town, YP’s often wonder, “Who has to die in this community before we can have a voice in our future?”

But there is a measure of revenge.  Today, YP’s don’t have to stay in Old Town.  They can move to “New Town,” where ideas have value, where energy - not age - is a measure of your capacity to contribute.  New Town has a vibe that asks for the best from all people, and gives people a sense that their brightest days are ahead of them, not behind them.

“What would happen if all of your community leaders were killed in a plane crash?” Your answer might tell you a lot about whether you live in Old Town or New Town.