One Mother Will Not Give Up: Maira Fights to Save Bridgeport

The old neighborhood sat quiet under the summer heat. Bridgeport had known hard times before. Men worked the stockyards and the steel mills and the river. Families stayed close. The ballpark stood at the edge of it all and drew the people in on game days.

Now the plans for the Amtrak maintenance facility would come and the White Sox would leave. The tracks would spread. The noise of engines and the smell of diesel would settle over the streets. Houses that had stood for a century would face the yards. The corner bars and restaurants would empty. The kids would have nowhere to go on summer nights.

It would be the worst thing that had happened here. Worse than the floods or the fires or the slow closing of the plants. The place would lose what held it together. Families who had walked to the park would drive past a rail maintenance facility. The talk on the porches would turn thin. Nothing would replace what was taken. The neighborhood would keep going but it would not be the same. It would be poorer for it and the people would know.

But there is a woman named Maira. A mother. She lives there and loves the place. She will not give up. Day after day she works tirelessly, walks door to door, pulling the people together. She calls the meetings. She stands in the heat and the rain and speaks plain words. She holds the neighbors close when the plans press in. The yards might come and the team might leave, but not if it is up to her.