The natural gas industry has created jobs in central Pennsylvania, but residents say there are economic consequences as well. Photo by Eric Zerkel

WILLIAMSPORT, Pa. — Just over the Susquehanna River, along freshly paved streets, the taupe stucco facades of hotels jut out in rows, blotting out the old church steeples and glass storefronts of small-town Pennsylvania.

This is the new Williamsport, a city transformed from a quaint logging town into a bustling corporate hub by the natural gas-rich Marcellus Shale formation below ground.

“It has truly been an amazing renaissance,” said Vince Matteo, president of the Williamsport/Lycoming Chamber of Commerce.

Over the past four years, Matteo said he has seen more than 100 new businesses sprout up in the county, leading Williamsport to be named the seventh fastest growing metropolitan area in the country.

“I’ve been involved in economic development chamber work for 31 years and have seen good times and bad times, and from an economic development standpoint I’ve never seen something this good before,” said Matteo.

But outside of Williamsport, on the stretches of farmland and rolling hills, locals see little of the “boom” of the natural gas industry. Leading some to question whether the industry will have a real and lasting impact on local rural communities.

“The natural gas industry is extractive by nature,” said John Trallo, 60, of Sonestown, Pa. “There is a short-term boost for the area when they have to set up the wells, but once the wells are in the ground, the jobs move on.”

Trallo lives 45 minutes outside of Williamsport, in neighboring Sullivan County, where he said he sees little evidence of the positive economic impacts that Matteo and Williamsport experience.

Instead, Trallo said he has witnessed the slow decay of many staple businesses of the area as the demand for business follows “frackers” to Williamsport.

“The mom and pop stores, the campgrounds, the farming supply stores, we’re just watching them disappear,” said Trallo, who runs his own small business – a music lessons and instrument repair shop – out of his home. “The jobs that we’re losing, once they’re gone, are not coming back.”

While drill sites are located hours outside of Williamsport, workers use the city as an industrial hub, booking up hotels, and shipping out in company provided econo-vans to areas in Bradford, Sullivan and Susquehanna Counties.

With so many new temporary residents, Matteo said that jobs are not only created within gas companies, but also are taking hold within Williamsport.

“There is a trickle down effect,” Matteo said. “You have all these companies that are doing work on the Marcellus Shale, but they are spending money in our hotels, in our restaurants, and in our stores.”

Twenty miles east, in Moreland Township, Drake Saxton sees little of the trickle-down. Saxton said that the high presence of out-of-state workers was a clear sign that the gas industry wasn’t concerned about the local economy.

“Take a look at the license plates on the cars around here – Texas, Alabama, Oklahoma – if they (the gas industry) are so good at picking up the local economy then why are they all still here?” said Saxton, 64.

Saxton runs a bed and breakfast and said the negatives of workers coming in and out of town drowned out any small economic impact felt locally.

“Let’s talk about the rest of what the frackers are bringing us – an increase in crime, ruts in the road a foot deep, blocked off roads, increased rent – it’s like they are saying get a job with the oil/gas industry or die off,” said Saxton.

Saxton’s business was recently put on hold, when massive ruts created by the trucks carrying water to and from drill sites kept him from being able to drive on and off his property for weeks.

“I couldn’t get out, the ruts were this deep,” Saxton said, as he stretched his hands apart the length of his torso.

Though the business has slowed the past few months, as gas prices have risen, trucks still drive through the streets of Williamsport on their way to drill sites. Something Matteo said he has no problem dealing with.

“There are impacts (from this industry) that aren’t positive, but overall if you asked me if I want them to be here with the additional problems and issues, or not be here, I’d say I’d want them to be here, and have people have these additional jobs,” Matteo said.

But for Trallo, jobs are the last thing on his mind.

“This is just another boom, and once they (the gas companies) are gone, what do we have left?” Trallo said. “This area is going to lose its charm.”

It was 10 p.m. on a recent Friday night and business was booming at The Experience Unisex Salon in Crown Heights. An interracial couple held an intimate conversation in French while they sat in the waiting area. A stylist tightly sewed wavy blonde extensions into her African-American customer’s hair. VH1 Soul played on the two large flat screen televisions filling the spacious salon with R & B.

Black-owned businesses like The Experience Unisex Salon are all over this working class neighborhood, which, according to the 2010 Census, is 72 percent black. But as gentrification seeps into the neighborhood, diversity has brought hope and new clients to this busy salon.

“We have clients of all backgrounds, Indian, White, Latinos, and Blacks,” said Khalil Wright, 37, the salon’s co-owner.

Wright and his partner Zakeyah Ryan, 32, opened the salon in 2006 and within three years noticed a change in clientele.

Blue-eyed and blond-haired, Nate Olson,29, has been a client of the Experience Unisex Salon since he moved to Crown Heights from Iowa three years ago.

“You can come here and talk to anyone about anything,” Olson said. “It’s definitely a place where all types of people catch up to talk about things going on in the community.”

The number of white residents in Crown Heights has increased 20 percent, according to the census data. For many of the black salon customers, this was their first time sharing a salon with white neighbors.

“I grew up in Crown Heights and before this shop, I’ve never been to a barbershop and a white man was in the chair,” said Amaechi Aneke, 30, as he watched his barber cutting a white customer’s hair.

On a recent visit, every customer was greeted with a hearty welcome from the staff and then waited patiently for a free stylist in one of the red, blue or yellow chairs.

“We are a black-owned business, but we don’t focus on the color of people, we see hair,” Ryan said.

Jordan Velazquez, 20, stands behind the front counter at La Carreta Market in Detroit's Mexicantown. Velazquez said more aggressive border patrol enforcement has led to a decrease in business at the store. Photo by Kathryn Kattalia

At La Carreta Market on Bagley Street, it’s not uncommon to see border patrol officials navigating their way through narrow aisles brimming with dried chilies, piñatas and imported Mexican candy.

“There have been times where I’ve had border patrol outside the store,” said Jordan Velazquez, 20, an employee at the Mexicantown market. “They’ve never grabbed anyone from here, but if people see border patrol outside or around here, they immediately get scared.”

For residents living in Detroit’s Mexicantown, stories of border patrol officers picking up illegal immigrants from stores and restaurants have become increasingly common—and businesses are starting to feel the impact.

Small storeowners, who are already struggling to keep up in a crippling economy, say they now face another challenge: they’re losing customers as more aggressive immigration law enforcement has scared many residents away from the neighborhood.

Employees at La Carreta Market on Bagley Street said more aggressive border patrol enforcement has led to a decline in business. Photo by Kathryn Kattalia

“People have a sense of fear like, I can walk out of my house today and maybe I might not be able to come back to my house tonight,” Velazquez said. “It has gotten worse.”

The Federation for American Immigrant Reform estimates there are nearly 200,000 illegal immigrants living in the state of Michigan. While experts say it is impossible to peg down the number of undocumented people in Detroit, the number of foreign-born residents has grown significantly in the last decade, from 137,769 in 2000 to 162,550 in 2008.

Over the last 10 years, more relaxed immigration policies have lured many undocumented Latinos to Mexicantown, a neighborhood that has been a regular magnet for immigrants since the 1950s.

But Angela Reyes, founder and executive director of the Detroit Hispanic Development Corporation, said that’s all starting to change. Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers in Michigan have become more zealous when it comes to sweeping the city for illegal immigrants, she said. Some people are moving to the suburbs where they feel safer. Others simply aren’t leaving their homes.

“It has been really oppressive to the point where they follow people to schools and churches, they’re waiting outside our organizations, raiding homes,” Reyes said. “It has had quite a big impact. Business owners notice because people are afraid of leaving their house.”

A bill proposed by state congressman Dave Agema to the Michigan House of Representatives in February would make it legal for law enforcement officers to demand documentation from anyone they approach for an offense or believe might be here illegally.

Agema said the bill, currently still in committee, would make it harder for illegal immigrants to stay in Michigan.

“Detroit and Ann Arbor have been a sanctuary in the state of Michigan which means if they get somebody that is illegal, they don’t turn them over to I.C.E.,” Agema said. “Basically they’re harboring criminals which is against the law and against the constitution.”

However, business owners say the increased law enforcement is having a negative effect when it comes to bringing in customers. Gloria Rosas, owner of Xochi’s Mexican Imports, said sales have dropped 50 percent since she first opened her colorful store on Bagley Street in the 1970s.

“Of course it’s the economy, but it’s also that people are leaving and are scared to come,” Rosas said. “You see people in churches and schools and supermarkets—they are scared of border patrol.”

On an overcast Saturday morning, Maribel Enriquez is one of the few people who can be seen out running errands on Bagley Street.

Enriquez, 26, who has lived in Southwest Detroit for most of her life, said she hasn’t just heard stories of people disappearing—she’s experienced it first-hand. Ten months ago, her stepfather was deported after being pulled over by police on Interstate 75.

“They’re deporting like crazy,” Enriquez said. “They’re getting people on the street.”

The result has had a paralyzing effect on everyone, she said.

“For a little while, I don’t think anyone went out anymore,” Enriquez said.

A spokesperson for the I.C.E Michigan office did not return phone calls for comment. However, officials have said that the push to crack down on illegal immigration in the state has focused on mostly on undocumented immigrants with criminal records.

In September, a nationwide crosscheck enforcement operation by ICE resulted in 58 arrests of undocumented people with felony convictions in Michigan, 18 from Detroit.

Velazquez said the tougher law enforcement has also made it harder for people without papers to find employment, and spending is coming to a standstill.

“If people don’t have that many job opportunities any more like they used to, they don’t come here and cash their checks,” Velazquez said. “They don’t go to any restaurants, they don’t go to stores to shop, they don’t go anywhere.”

And in a neighborhood that’s already struggling to stay afloat, even legal residents are on edge, Reyes said.

“You just never know where (border patrol officers) are going to be,” she said. “Many people that I know of who are second, third generation, have been stopped and interrogated. I carry my passport with me everywhere I go because of that.”

At TechTown, Wayne State University's 100,000 square foot research park and business incubator, Detroit is transforming from a single-industry economy to a dynamic haven for creativity. Photo by Nick DeSantis.

At the corner of Cass Avenue and Burroughs Street in midtown Detroit, two opposing symbols of explosive growth compete to catch a visitor’s eye.

On one side looms the American Beauty Electric Iron building, an industrial relic neglected for so long that leafy trees have burst through the roof. Across the street, an engine of more practical growth – economic, rather than botanical – stands shoulder to shoulder with its blighted neighbor.

The new building houses some of the booming entrepreneurial spirit that is transforming Detroit from a one-industry city into a haven of creative energy.

Inside Wayne State University’s TechTown – a 100,000 square foot technology park and business incubator – entrepreneurs from across southeast Michigan are finding ways to bring new jobs to a city that lost a quarter of its population in the last decade. As the economy soured, Detroit’s frozen investment climate made it difficult to attract businesses. But thanks to TechTown and other local innovators, a diverse range of companies is beginning to repair the tattered social fabric that drove jobs away.

Randal Charlton, TechTown’s executive director, knows firsthand the risk involved in trying to jump-start economic growth in a declining city. His company, Asterand, was TechTown’s first tenant in 2005. Today, Asterand is the world’s largest supplier of human tissue samples and is a publicly traded company on the London Stock Exchange.

Charlton said he picked Detroit because he could see the city was starved for investment.

“I knew that if I took the company to Boston, the only people who would care about me would be my landlord and the local Starbucks,” he said. “Because there are too many good companies walking up and down the street, so who cares? Even go to Ann Arbor – you set up a new company there – so what? It’s like a little Disney World all on its own. But you come here, and you start creating jobs, and people rush to help you.”

Since opening in 2004, TechTown has grown to house 250 companies and has helped thousands of other entrepreneurs realize their visions for a new Detroit. Sixty percent of TechTown’s business portfolio is women-owned, and 47% of the companies are run by people over the age of 45. Despite its name, TechTown doesn’t just provide assistance to biomedical companies and other high-tech businesses. Eighty-five percent of TechTown companies are what management calls “lifestyle companies,” which provide basic services for residents right in their neighborhood. They include printers, art magazine publishers and cafes.

“We don’t have the luxury that Silicon Valley has of just focusing on figuring out where the next Google is,” said Charlton. “It doesn’t matter whether it’s dry cleaning, or a corner deli store, snow removal service, or a taxi service for senior folks, we’ve got to support a broad range of entrepreneurial activity.”

TechTown’s programming attracts a wide variety of locals. The Shifting Gears initiative provides business training and mentorship opportunities for older Detroiters – many who are looking for second acts in their careers after being laid off from jobs in the auto industry.

“On one level, Detroit suffered by having a generation of great entrepreneurs in the 1910s, ‘20s and ‘30s who created so many jobs that the rest of us just needed to figure out who we were going to work for,” Charlton said.

Detroit’s main pillar of economic stability, which provided generations with stable jobs and good benefits, eventually became a liability when it disappeared and workers were unprepared to adapt their skills for different businesses. Shifting Gears trains late-career employees for new jobs with small businesses instead of large companies.

THRIVE, TechTown’s entrepreneurial coaching program, helps new ventures develop business plans and strategies to access funding – all for a nominal cost of $10 per month. Independent entrepreneurs can also use TechTown’s meeting spaces free of charge.

Jacob Raymond came to TechTown this year after founding Rep Your City, a local news website that recognizes and rates readers based on their participation in community events. Raymond, 27, grew up in Detroit and is trying to use his site to keep young people from fleeing the city at their first chance.

“I talk to kids in school, for example, middle school – I went to go talk to them for career day – and you have kids talking about, ‘the first thing I want to do is get out of here. There aren’t opportunities here.’”

TechTown is changing that dearth of opportunities, but businesses still face challenges that are unique to Detroit’s fragile recovery. Matt Clayson, director of the Detroit Creative Corridor Center, or DC3 – a business development group separate from TechTown that caters to Detroit’s creative professionals – said sustainable growth will come slowly in a city still plagued by quality-of-life problems that can chase away well-intentioned entrepreneurs.

“Detroit’s an easy place to come to with an idea,” he said. “It’s a hard place to execute that idea.”

An entrepreneur might come to Detroit with a plan to open a yoga studio and soon find their ambitions bumping up against the day-to-day challenges of operating in the city.

“When you open up your business, let’s say your storefront studio, and someone moves into a vacant house a block away and starts dealing drugs, you’re going to have to put the business on the back burner to deal with that drug dealing or else one of your clients is going to be mugged by a user,” said Clayson. “In Grand Rapids, where I grew up, you’re going to get a five-minute police response time for that. Here, it’s not going to happen.”

Clayson isn’t deterred by those potential setbacks, but he said some Detroiters view starry-eyed outsiders with skepticism. DC3’s inaugural Creative Ventures Acceleration Program supports 17 firms with mentoring and resources to turn early-stage creative businesses into the stable, job-producing companies the city needs.

Tunde Wey is the founder of Detroit Big F Deal, one of the companies participating in the DC3 Creative Ventures program. This year, he launched his crowd-funding website that features Detroit-based projects and rewards donors with gift certificates and other incentives from local businesses. By keeping his projects local and using fellow businesses to reward contributors, Wey is able to keep money flowing inside the community.

He said that unlike some other cities where he’s tried to start businesses, Detroit’s community of entrepreneurs always opens its doors to people with good ideas and gives them the encouragement they need to get their ideas off the ground.

“Detroit is the most accessible place you’ll ever go to,” said Wey. “People are willing to share their time with you.”

As enthusiastic as those entrepreneurs may be to rebuild Detroit, TechTown is not without its problems. Funding remains a challenge.

In 2007, TechTown management found itself in trouble when 35% of the building was completed and tenants had filled the incomplete space to capacity. The cost of running the space exceeded the building’s rental income – primarily because TechTown, as a nonprofit, was not charging its start-up businesses market-rate rents. Charlton said they don’t raise their rents because start-ups don’t always have the resources to pay high rents.

Without more space to take in new tenants, TechTown could not gather the funds necessary to complete construction. Charlton compared the situation to a motel trying to make money with only one third of the rooms containing beds.

Several large foundation grants eventually solidified TechTown’s footing, and now the main building is almost finished. And management has plans to expand the campus’ footprint – including the dilapidated American Beauty Electric Iron building across the street, which Wayne State owns.

Both Charlton and Clayson agree that for the city’s recovery to continue, local entrepreneurs must develop a diverse range of businesses that will foster sustainable growth and create viable residential communities. The energy in Detroit’s business incubators has given the business community cautious optimism for the future.

“Collectively, people have said, ‘look, we’ve got to get behind Detroit,’” said Charlton. “If Detroit starts recovering, the rest of the state will recover.”

Two empty storefronts line West Vernor Highway in Detroit's Mexicantown neighborhood. Despite a growing Hispanic population, many small businesses are struggling to stay open. Photo by Kathryn Kattalia

A lot has changed along the stretch of West Vernor where Jorge De Luna’s father opened his family’s bakery almost 40 years ago.

His pumpkin empanadas have not.

The smell of cinnamon filled Luna’s Bakery II near Junction Street as De Luna, 54, emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray filled with the pastries that have always been a best seller at the Mexicantown panaderia.

But these days, business is slow, the street outside empty. Few people have reason to come down this way anymore, De Luna said.

For some living in Detroit, Mexicantown has been seen as a glimmer of hope for a declining city. In the southwest corner of the city, the largely Hispanic neighborhood has grown at the same time Detroit’s population has plummeted—down nearly 200,000 in the last 10 years. Today, Hispanics make up nearly 7% of the city’s population, up from 5% in 2000.

And yet, the increase in people hasn’t translated into more business for mom and pop stores. Small business owners say they are fighting a crippling economy while competing against larger chain stores that have moved into the area to capitalize on the population boom.

“We’re struggling,” De Luna said. “A lot of small businesses are struggling. Even in Mexicantown.”

It’s a reality that seems to go against everything some economists have predicted. Lyke Thompson, director of the Center for Urban Studies at Wayne State University, said that more people should mean more spending.

With its growing population, Mexicantown should have an advantage, Thompson said.

“People keep flowing in there,” he said. “They make a lot of small investments, which add up and produce a community that’s not upper class, you don’t see wealth oozing out, but it’s a community that is functioning. Stores are doing well.”

But the mom and pop businesses that call Mexicantown home tell a different story.

The Southwest Detroit Business Association estimates that there are more than 170 small businesses operating along the 2.5 mile strip of West Vernon stretching through Mexicantown. Ten have opened in the past year. Five have closed.

Walking down West Vernor, it’s easy to see how the community might have once been a vibrant area. Painted store windows still advertise businesses that have since moved out, boarded up liquor stores and food markets wedged between quiet bakeries and discount shops.

Bigger retail stores and restaurants like CVS, Payless and McDonald’s are common. Other stores, like Sam’s Supermercado on West Vernor near Lansing Street, come from outside Detroit, pushing out local markets, small business owners say.

“Small businesses are disappearing,” said De Luna. “It’s too hard to keep up.”

Some small business owners point fingers at larger stores coming into Southwest Detroit to capitalize on a growing population.

Tammy Alfonso-Koehler, owner of Honey Bee Market Colmena on Bagley and 23rd Street, said a loyal customer base has helped her keep her business running, but it’s been difficult.

Tammy Alfaro-Koehler, owner of Honey Bee Market La Colmena, stands outside her business. Her grandfather opened the Hispanic market in 1956. Photo by Kathryn Kattalia

One of the first Hispanic markets to pop up in Detroit, the Honey Bee Market has been in Alfonso-Koehler’s family since 1956. Alfonso-Koehler, 43, said her family has had to deal with an influx of new grocery stores.

“It’s on the news Southwest Detroit is doing well, Mexicantown is doing well,” Alfonso-Koehler said. “We have an overflow of supermarkets all of the sudden, when there are other areas of the city that need supermarkets. All of a sudden we have 12.”

Alfonso-Koehler said she has had to pay closer attention to the kinds of products she buys for the store, straying away from more traditional products like dried chilies and tortillas to include more recognized food items.

In one aisle, packages of Chips Ahoy are stacked next to Roscas, cinnamon flavored cookies.

“We have to be more cautious of what we’re buying,” she said. “Because of marketing, you find a lot of our types of products at Meijers and Wal-Mart, because once they get on to something, they want to make money too.”

Other local businesses say they have had to find more creative ways to fight back.

At La Jalisciense Tortilla Factory, a neighborhood staple that has churned out traditional corn tortillas on Bagley Street since 1946, owner Myrna Abundis said customers used to flock to the family-owned factory to take home freshly made tortillas. Today, she said they’ve had to look for customers elsewhere.

The majority of La Jalisciense’s business comes from area restaurants and local food markets, Abundis said. But the factory has also started selling its products in bulk to larger stores, like Ryan’s Foods and Whole Foods in Ann Arbor.

They’ve also been hurt by increased competition.

Myrna Abundis, owner of La Jalisciense Tortilla Factory, explains how corn tortillas are made from scratch. The family-owned tortilla factory, which opened in 1946, has been a Mexicantown staple for decades. Photo by Kathryn Kattalia

“Before, there used to be just two tortilla factories here,” Abundis said. “Now, there are tortilla factories everywhere.”

She said outside businesses, like the Chicago-based manufacturing company El Milagro Tortillas, have become increasingly prominent in the area, catering to a growing demand for traditional products.

“There’s an opportunity here and they just grabbed it,” she said.

Alfonso-Koehler said the biggest challenge facing Mexicantown is holding on to a slipping identity outside businesses are trying to take advantage of.

Still, she said she remains optimistic.

“We have been part of the city when everyone thought it was hopeless,” she said. “People around us want the city to grow and change. It’s our citizens who have to take initiative and know what’s going on and be involved. I really do think it’s possible. I really do.”

Pilar Cuban Eatery’s owner Ricardo Barreras understands his Clinton Hill, Brooklyn, restaurant is part of a dying breed in the city. It is one of the last places serving authentic food and operated by the child of Cuban immigrants.

“I want to serve the best Cuban food in the city, which isn’t a big chore because the standard is pretty low,” Barreras said. “I knew there was a need for it.”

Maricel Presilla, the chief and owner of the pan-Latin Zafra restaurant in Hoboken, N.J., said genuine Cuban restaurants are rare and have been closing because there is no heir, in these mostly family businesses, willing to continue the tradition.

“There were a lot of people here that opened businesses and their children are not following,” said Presilla, who moved to the U.S. from Cuban in 1970. “There kids are going to school and moving up in the world.”

Presilla said the lack of authentic cuisine correlates with the lack of Cubans in the kitchen. She said most Cubans have relocated to Miami to be closer to family.

“It’s an endangered thing and its probably going to die out,” Presilla said. “It’s not a happy story, but it’s the reality of it.”

Some of the popular and traditional meals include ropa viega, a shredded skirt steak dish; arroz con pollo, a combination of rice and saffron chicken; and picadillo, a rice and bean plate with season ground beef.

Chinese-Cuban restaurants, once thrived in New York City, but have also seen a surge of closings. La Nueva Rampa on West 14th Street was the most recent one to close several months ago.

Mike Yip, the manager of La Candida 78 Restaurant on the Upper West Side, said his is the last Chinese-Cuban restaurant in the New York City area.

“They are closing because we don’t have a new generation coming over here from Cuba,” said Yip, 56, who moved to the U.S. in 1970. “After me, that’s it, and I’m old already.”

Kathleen Lopez, an associate professor in the department of history and Latino, Hispanic and Caribbean Studies at Rutgers University, said Chinese-Cuban restaurants suffer because there hasn’t been another flood of immigrants from the island in decades.

“They have been cut off since the last wave of migration,” said Lopez, who has a special interest in Chinese-Cuban history and Chinese migration to Cuba. “And the second and third generations don’t want to take over the restaurants.”

Lopez said the last wave of Chinese immigrants from Cuba arrived in the U.S. after 1959 when small businesses were nationalized. She said most owned bodegas and laundromats and settled in Miami, New York City and Union City.

Yip agreed that the menial number of Cubans coming to the U.S. has stunted the growth of authentic Cuban and Chinese-Cuban restaurants in New York City.

“We keep doing it the same way, like my grandfather did in Cuba,” Yip said. “But one of these days I think it will be gone.”

The recently closed Guss' Pickles storefront. Photo by Alexandra DiPalma

In the span of a few blocks of Manhattan’s Lower East Side, residents and visitors can find themselves sipping wine at a gallery opening, shopping for knockoff purses, touring historic tenement apartments, and ending up at high-end boutique or $3 dumpling shop.

More than any other neighborhood in New York City, the Lower East Side is known for it’s remarkable diversity and rich artistic culture. But now more than ever, store owners and residents fear that growing numbers of affluent middle-class transplants are threatening the area’s unique character.

“When I moved to the Lower East Side 20 years ago, it was the ruckus neighborhood,” said Steven “Sunshine” Potter, longtime resident and manager of the recently opened neighborhood joint Mikey’s Burgers. “Now it’s only a bland, watered-down version of what it used to be.”

Mikey's Burger on the Lower East Side. Photo by Alexandra DiPalma

Just as the Lower East Side was transformed from immigrant neighborhood to counter-culture capital in the 1960s, the area has been going through another massive shift. Middle-class residential upgrades have pushed out artists and longtime businesses, such as Guss’ Pickles on Orchard Street near Delancey Street. The pickle shop has sold some of the city’s most renowned pickles for more than 89 years, when Polish immigrant Isidor Guss began selling his products out of a pushcart on the Lower East Side.

But in the beginning of this year, Guss’ finally buckled under the pressure of increasing rent prices. Owner Patricia Fairhurst decided to move from Orchard Street to Borough Park in Brooklyn.

“It’s gotten too expensive here,” said Fairhurst. “And we only have an outdoor storefront — we freeze standing out here in the winter.”

Steve Liebowitz, owner of United Pickle Enterprises based in the Bronx, is also sole owner of the Guss’ trademark and name. In a contentious court battle, Fairhurst lost all rights to use the name when she relocated. He believes that the Orchard Street Guss’ is moving to Brooklyn for another reason.

“They didn’t move to Brooklyn because of the rent prices or because of the neighborhood,” Liebowitz said. “When they stopped buying from us five years ago, the pickle quality slipped. That was the problem — they weren’t getting as much business.”

Whether the rent or the quality of their pickles drove them out of the Lower East Side, Guss’ did manage to hold on long enough to see the block change completely. Now, the neighborhood institution seems out of place.

Upscale boutiques and specialty shops — a spa frequented by celebs, a coffee shop that roasts its own beans, a shoe store that only sells items made from organic materials — have overshadowed the red pickle barrels that once crowded the narrow sidewalk.

Even though the pickle shop is moving to Brooklyn, 88 Orchard, the expensive café directly across from the old location, includes Guss’ famous half-sours with their $11 gourmet sandwiches.

“It’s really too bad that they’ve been pushed out,” said Soo Chin Han, 22, who has recently moved to Orchard Street from the Upper West Side. “Especially since yet another trendy hipster boutique will probably go in its place.”

While some residents are angered by the displacement of shops like Guss’, others are resigned to the fact that the neighborhood’s shifting landscape is inevitable.

“The Lower East Side might have held on to its identity for longer than other places, but everything is becoming gentrified in a sense,” Potter said. “People move down here and want to change it instead of embracing it.”

Potter, whose burger spot opened only a few months ago, is pleased with some of the changes.

“In the ’80s, there would be people partying and doing drugs and getting food at diners at 9 in the morning, not looking for the newest restaurants,” Potter said. “Now the Lower East Side food scene is a destination, which is great for us.”

The same influx of affluence that fuels the success of upscale restaurants is helping business for small boutiques in the area. While it’s still possible to buy a fake-leather coat off the street, the ‘bargain district’ title is becoming less and less appropriate as fashionable clothing stores displace old discount emporiums.

Isidoro A. Francisco, 29, is also happy with the way business is being affected. An employee at Yumi Kim, a designer boutique opened in 2008, he is still concerned that his clientele, among others, are taking away from the neighborhood’s distinct identity.

“People from the Upper East and Upper West Sides are moving down here and spending money because they think it’s the place to be,” Francisco said. “But now everyone who made the LES cool is moving out to Brooklyn.”
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Isidoro A. Francisco on the changing Lower East Side

Francisco noted the arrested development of several hotels in the area, such as Hotel Ludlow and developer Morris Platt’s plan to build it at 180 Orchard St. Once these developments gather momentum, he said, Lower East Side culture will face a serious blow.

“The Lower East Side still has its edge, but it’s only a matter of time until it loses it,” he said.

Members of the LGBT community explore their future career options at the third annual Out to Work job fair. Photo by Sarah Tung.

LGBT job fair draws thousands

Like so many other Americans in today’s economic downturn, Candy Ramos is having a hard time finding a job that will help her pay the bills.

“I could sell drugs, and I could sell sex, but I don’t want to go to jail,” she said. Instead, Ramos waited in long lines with hundreds of other people to meet representatives from companies with open positions.

Ramos, a transgendered woman from Queens, joined nearly 3,000 members of the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered community at the third annual Out to Work event on Sept. 17. Sponsored by the LGBT Community Center and the Greenwich Village-Chelsea Chamber of Commerce, it is the largest LGBT job fair in the Northeast.

Out to Work hosted 41 companies that advocate equality for LGBT employees in the workplace. With regards to sexual identity and orientation, companies generally employ a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy. However, this option does not apply as easily to transgendered men and women.

“I can’t hide anything,” Ramos, 45, said about the prejudice she has faced as a transgendered woman. “On the résumé and on the phone, I’m fine, but when I go to the interview, suddenly the position is filled.”

Based on her past experiences, Ramos believes transgendered and transsexual teenagers do not often graduate from high school. She is proud of her high-school diploma, but in a room full of attendees with college degrees and other qualifications, she worries no one will give her a job offer.

“As a transgendered, it’s difficult normally to get a job,” Ramos said. “But it’s extremely hard right now because of the economy.”

Greg Weachock, 38, has faced discrimination in the workplace for being gay. He tried to hide his sexuality at previous jobs but was unhappy.

“It’s exhausting trying to live two lives,” Weachock said. “No one should have to do that.”

Weachock also knows firsthand how important it is to work for a company that supports members of his community. During the seven years he worked at Merrill Lynch, Weachock was encouraged to be himself, which allowed him to finally reconcile his work life with his personal life, he said. Coming out at work enabled him to tell his parents, who are conservative Ukranian Catholics, that he is gay.

“With all these companies supporting LGBT as a part of society, it helps family members also accept it,” Weachock said.

Douglas Frimmet, 47, traveled an hour from New Jersey to attend the job fair in Chelsea. Frimmet appreciated the efforts companies made to show their support for the LGBT community.

“I think it’s the start of LGBT recognition, but it will take time for the general public to recognize and accept us,” he said.

Organizers of the event believed it was a success. Although recent figures revealed New York City’s unemployment rate was at 9.6 percent, the highest it has been since 1997, the job fair hosted the same number of companies as the previous year.

“This event is a beacon of hope for the community,” said Lauren Danziger, the executive director of the GVCCC. “People are out there, hiring.”

Small Business owners weigh in on health debate

Frank Macchio’s 2-year-old son tripped and busted his chin open last Friday night. He was bleeding, and Macchio had to take him to get stitches.

Macchio had a decision to make.

Should he take his son to the emergency room, pass off the $1,500 medical bill to his insurance company, but wait hours to been seen? Or should he take him to the doctor’s office down the street, pay $300 upfront, and be in and out in 40 minutes?

Macchio chose the latter option in the interest of time. He didn’t want his son to be in pain any longer than necessary. But, to Macchio, it was a lose-lose situation. He would either be wasting time or money.

“That’s broken,” Macchio said. “This mentality, this system is broken.”

He is referring to the health-insurance industry.

Macchio told the story to a room full of small-business owners during an emergency town hall meeting on health reform at the Bulova Corporate Center in Jackson Heights on Sept. 16.

The meeting was designed to let members of the Queens Chamber of Commerce listen to local medical experts and voice their own opinions about the raging health-care debate.

Macchio, a father and also the owner of Construction Services Company in Whitestone, can’t afford to provide health insurance to his 15 employees. He believes the health-insurance system needs to be revamped, but he doesn’t exactly know how.

“This issue is so huge you can’t ask me that and get one simple answer,” the Queens native said.

Others, such as businessman Joshua Bienstock, who owns Resolve It Inc., said reform has to happen, but not at the expense of small businesses.

“Every time someone is granted a (health-care) right, someone pays for it,” Bienstock said.

Bienstock worries businesses such as his will have to fork over more tax money to help fund a government-run plan.

“I’m a small business, a two-person business,” Bienstock said. “The money is going to come from small businesses that can barely survive in this economy.”

In his speech to Congress a week ago, President Obama promised he would keep costs down for small-business owners who are already paying up to 20 percent more than large companies are paying to insure their employees.

Kenneth Buettner, owner of York Scaffold Equipment Corporation, pays $20,000 per employee for health care each year. He has a staff of 85.

While Buettner, also the vice president of the Queens Chamber of Commerce, believes health insurance is a social obligation, he doesn’t know how much longer he can afford to provide coverage to his workers.

“I’m scared to death,” he said.

Business owners in the audience argued both sides of the debate and even offered solutions, though the diversity of opinions given at Wednesday’s chamber meeting in Queens is as diverse as the borough itself. The debate over health reform will likely continue in Queens as more details emerge.

An hour after the town hall meeting ended, Sen. Max Baucus, D-Lobtana, unveiled the Senate Finance Committee’s version of the health-reform package in Washington.

It has a price tag of nearly $860 billion and would require all Americans to buy health care or pay a fine.

Chamber president Albert Pennisi said the organization will hold more forums so members can praise or condemn new subsequent versions of the government’s health-care plan.

“The more people who discuss these issues, the better we are,” Pennisi said.

But for eco-cleaners it takes some green to go green. All-purpose cleaners at six dollars and $12 a pop for laundry detergent means consumers are paying more for products that experts say may not be that different from their Clorox counterparts.

“I just bit the bullet and bought my very first bottle of $12 eco-friendly laundry detergent,” said Sarah Drew, 25, an anthropology major at the University of Georgia.

Like many college students, Drew lives on a tight budget.  She has to balance her eco-conscience with limited finances.  Her $12 bottle of Seventh Generation laundry detergent promises to be non-toxic and biodegradable.  But the Environmental Protection Agency says these terms are vague and unregulated by the government.  In fact non-toxic has no official definition or third party verification.  Biodegradable can be just as unclear.

Mark Chapman, 30, a professor of plant biology at the University of Georgia, said anything organic – that is anything made up of carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen – will break down over time.

“Usually ‘biodegradable’ means it will degrade over a much shorter time than, say a regular plastic bottle,” he said.  “So if I bought something made of biodegradable plastic I’d expect it not to be in a landfill for a gazillion years.”

Currently, even if a product and it’s packaging take a gazillion years to break down it can still be labeled biodegradable.

Wary of the chemical quagmire in most cleaning products, Americans are turning to eco-cleaners.  Most household cleaners contain harmful volatile organic compounds (VOC’s) that vaporize into the air and can pollute the soil and water as well as cause serious respiratory problems, according to the EPA.

But Chapman, originally from England, said that there are even more natural alternatives to commercial eco-cleaners.

“The best way to clean windows is scrunched up newspaper and vinegar,” he said.

“You can have it on your fish and chips too – double the fun.”

Vinegar is an earth-friendly and inexpensive household item that can be used for most cleaning tasks; and, as Chapman noted, it is not harmful if swallowed.

With vinegar, baking soda, lemon juice, and some warm water you can tackle just about any household chore:

• Distilled white vinegar can clean and deodorize any surface including, refrigerators and microwaves.

• A mix of vinegar and baking soda unclogs drains and garbage disposals.

• Baking soda adds the benefit of grit for surfaces that need extra scrubbing.

• Baking soda also lifts stains out of carpets and many fabrics.

• Lemon dissolves soap scum and hard water deposits in the bathroom and eliminates odors; and it great for dishes too.

These three products provide an excellent alternative to expensive commercial cleaners.  Ben Garland, 31, a graduate student at North Carolina State University uses the trio regularly for his cleaning needs.  He and his fiancée, Laura Bentz, make a conscious effort to limit their use of harsh chemicals.

“Basically, we try to cut out any of the conventional cleaning products that have ingredients that you can’t pronounce,” he said. “We’re transitioning to stuff we make on our own.”

Garland said his concerns are for his personal health and for the environment.

“I want to know when I put something down the drain that if it does end up in a river that it’s not going to be very harmful,” he said.

Garland said the biggest disadvantage to their homemade cleaning concoctions is that it may take a little extra elbow grease to remove tough stains; but sometimes the homemade stuff works better than the commercial product.

The couple has been on a mission for nearly two years to live a more sustainable lifestyle- that means cutting back on all the products they consume.  Their mission so far has proved easy on the earth and easy on their wallets.

Garland also made his own laundry detergent from Ivory soap, Borax, and washing soda.

“I didn’t like detergents because I would get itchy from the detergent residue left on my clothes after washing them,” he said “And they are more expensive than making it myself.”

His homemade detergent only costs two cents per load.  By his estimates, over the course of a year he will spend only 75 cents to a dollar on laundry.

Garland and Bentz also stopped using paper towels and have had the same roll of paper towels sitting around for eight months. They replaced them with dishrags and cloth napkins to save money and help ease deforestation.

Recycled paper products are another sustainable option.  According to the National Resources Defense Council, if every household replaced just one roll of regular paper towels with a roll of recycled paper towels, we could save 544,000 trees.

“The point of what we’re doing is ‘getting back to the land’ and looking at what our grandparents did that we are no longer doing as a society,” said Garland’s fiancée, Bentz.