You probably haven’t heard of Stockholm, Ala. Yet every tax dollar you spend in this state runs through Stockholm. Your elected officials ostensibly live in Stockholm, and much of your state government works in Stockholm.
You see, Stockholm Syndrome is a recognized psychological condition in which an abused hostage develops feelings of loyalty to their abuser in order to cope with the situation they are dealt in life. I never thought I’d fall victim to Stockholm, but two years after leaving Montgomery, I now have a certain sense of clarity and realize I was indeed captured by it.
I spent my first summer in Montgomery clerking for an old law firm in the summer of 2012. I was excited for my first real job and paycheck but quickly learned there were certain parts of the city one doesn’t venture to after dark. Montgomery didn’t have the most engaging scene for young professionals, but the downtown entertainment district was growing, and Old Cloverdale was anchored by the local gems of Bud’s, Tomatinos and El Rey.
I spent the summer of 2013 clerking for the legal department at Hyundai. Not much had changed in the Montgomery social scene, but Hyundai’s HR department was concerned. The workers they thought would move to Montgomery were instead driving up to 200 miles round trip per day to keep their children in their local school systems. I should have asked myself why, but I was only 25 and kids and schools were the last thing on my mind.
I graduated from Alabama Law in 2014 and started my career at a local law firm. My wife and I bought our first house in Old Cloverdale, shortly before Tomatinos and Café Louisa moved to the A&P Social’s location, leaving a hole in Old Cloverdale that is finally being filled nearly a decade later.
In the summer of 2015, our home was broken into while I was at work. Our back door was kicked in and the thieves made off with our TV. Luckily, I set my alarm system, and our dog was in her kennel, so all was not lost; yet I was shocked that my home would be violated in such a terrible manner. The police showed up, said there wasn’t anything they could do, and wrote me a report to file with insurance.
I remember seeing one of my law partners come into the office in the spring of 2018. His daughter was in middle school at a magnet school, but he was sending her to private school the next day. He never went into detail, but something happened at the school dance that as a father he was not going to allow to continue. He pressed the nuclear option of $25,000 a year in tuition for each of his children to keep them safe. But remember – it’s not that bad. Besides, I reasoned, the private schools are excellent investment in your children’s future!
Throughout our time in Cloverdale, our cameras showed people checking our car doors on an almost weekly basis. “Keep your doors locked, things will be ok,” ran the refrain, but other neighborhood cameras showed kids with guns waiting for someone to interrupt their partners’ escapades. I am thankful I never walked out on them in the middle of the night.
Despite all this, my family loved Montgomery. The people were like an extended family. The Club anchored the neighborhood, and the ball season was unlike anything I grew up with in metro Atlanta. “It’s not that bad,” was a common refrain in my household and amongst friends.
We built what we thought would be our lifelong residence in a gated community in the summer of 2020. Despite the gates, our cars’ windows, along with about 20 other vehicles in the neighborhood, were smashed in spring of 2021. Once again, we were the victim of crime, and the police came and gave us our report for insurance. But it wasn’t that bad – this was just part and parcel of living in a city.
Yet my wife and I noticed a change. We stopped going out after dark. One evening, I asked my wife, “If our daughter came down the stairs and said she forgot she needed a sheet of posterboard for school tomorrow, what would we do?” This was at 7:00 p.m., not 2:00 a.m.. Our decision was ultimately that we would need to get up early, because we can’t go to the Ann Street Walmart because it is not safe. We don’t need to take the 45-minute round trip out East to Target (spend 10 minutes driving in Montgomery, and you will understand, and that goes without mentioning the Amy Dicks tragedy).
Even though we felt trapped in our house after dark, we wanted to believe it wasn’t that bad – that our capital city wasn’t a failed institution. We knew we would have to foot the bill for a private school. Even if we won the lottery for the magnet program, that would only be a temporary reprieve until our kids entered middle school, at which time we would need to send them to a private school.
And then we moved to Baldwin County. And we found that yes, Montgomery really is that bad. The constant feeling of being on alert because a subset of the population is actively looking to hurt you or others that is prevalent in Montgomery doesn’t exist down here in Baldwin County. Here, law enforcement responds with arrests, not reports. Criminals are jailed and sentenced to hard time, not community service and payment plans. There is social responsibility that extends beyond your immediate family. The only gunshots I’ve heard in the last two years down here were at the shooting range. I can go to the store after dark without a second thought.
And that is why we have Stockholm in Alabama. Because Montgomery really is that bad.
I can only pray that Mayor Reed and the current administration can work together to create a path forward. Our state’s future depends on it.
Chris Reader served as deputy general counsel to Gov. Kay Ivey and was the director of governmental affairs at the Alabama Law Enforcement Agency before shifting his practice to private industry in Baldwin County.
The views and opinions expressed here are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the policy or position of 1819 News. To comment, please send an email with your name and contact information to [email protected].
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