Freighthouse Square recently turned twenty years old, and I feel the need to talk about my feelings. The Square has always occupied a special place in my heart. With its mix of local business and its distance from the hub of the city—it’s literally on the wrong side of the tracks—Freighthouse Square shouldn’t exist. But where else can you go to find bottles of your parents’ jug wine, Legos, slot cars and enough kitsch to fill a Winnebago all under one roof? It reminds me of those mountain flowers that jut out of the rocks above the timberline. A scruffy thing of unexpected, audacious beauty. Let’s keep the flame alive. Put your hands together and give up the love for Freighthouse Square.

Best,

Josh

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