Rediscovering Main Street gems in Harford County

At the dawning of the modern era on Bel Air’s Main Street, we find Mary and Eugene Streett, owners of the Boyd and Fulford drugstore, who carry in their bones the very stuff of history. Their store’s been here 117 years. Gene’s worked here for 64 years, and Mary’s been here for several decades.

But rarely, in all that time, has such optimism arrived at their front door.

The long sweat is finally done. After nearly two years of workers digging into the street to fix water and electrical lines, and dust flying everywhere, and traffic blocked and parking vanished and customers staying away, all repairs and construction are concluded, and the half-mile so-called “heart of Harford County” fully opened for business the other day.

“What a relief,” Gene Streett says.

He and Mary stand on the sidewalk outside their drugstore, and look at flags and flowerpots and café tables and chairs along the street. Then they point to old photos in their window — Main Street in its distant past, when its buildings and dirt road looked like holdovers from frontier towns.

The Streetts’ lives don’t go back that far. But they’re a link to yesteryear, and their store’s the only original business remaining from the very dawning of Main Street.

Its shops and restaurants and sidewalk charms are among the enduring treats of this stretch of Harford County. These aren’t chain stores operating in generic malls; they’re hometown businesses, each with its own unique touches.

Like the Boyd and Fulford drugstore, with its old photos in the front window and its “Images of America” photo books of Bel Air at the front counter. And, in the back, Mary Streett’s showing newspaper clippings from the last time the street had a face-lift, back in 1978.

The cost to the state back then was $623,000, plus about $75,000 in county money. This time? A cool $9 million.

When the presidential candidates talk about help for “Wall Street and Main Street,” they should look hopefully at this Main Street.

“We’re already seeing new people coming in,” says David Micozzi, owner of the Carried Away Gourmet. “And people are coming back who stayed away during the hell that we went through.”

“Hell?”

“Well,” Micozzi says, “imagine not getting 40 percent of your paycheck for almost two years. But the town said we should hang in there. So, here we are.”

Micozzi’s putting out tables and chairs for the lunchtime trade. Across the street sits the red brick county courthouse with a bubbling fountain out front. The courthouse was built in 1791, burned down and was rebuilt in 1858.

That’s the kind of history here. But there’s also Savona Fine Italian Foods and Wine, opened three years ago, where owner Maria Boeri presides over a lush display of food and wine.

“The street’s a great mix,” she says. “All that we need is people to rediscover us.”

As part of that effort, Main Street will hold its regular First Fridays event tomorrow evening — with music and sales and restaurant specials that drew crowds even during the bleak months of construction.

“This really is a great town,” says Chief of Police Leo F. Matrangola, who grew up nearby, served in the Baltimore County Police Department, and has headed the Bel Air police for the past 17 years.

The town itself has about 10,000 people, he says, but the greater Bel Air area has close to 100,000.

“There’s no violent crime to speak of,” he says. “We have maybe 60 burglaries a year. And we’ve held onto that small-town feel.”

As Matrangola strolls along Main Street, he seems to know everybody by first name. There’s an extended-family atmosphere, and genuine optimism now that all street repairs are finished.

But that’s not to say there’s universal exultation. Back at the Carried Away Gourmet, Micozzi says he’s been trying to get a license to sell beer and liquor to his outdoor customers.

“I went to the liquor board,” he says, “and they told me to contact the county government. So I went to them, and they said contact the town of Bel Air’s government. And they told me to contact the chief of police.”

“Yup,” Chief Matrangola says when he hears the story. “And I told him to go back to the liquor board.”

He chuckles slightly as he says it. It’s a chuckle that says, We’ll take care of this. After all the town’s been through, this problem should be an easy one.

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