Mayer has studied Oregon's Silicon Forest, south of Portland, where a number of small tech start-ups have emerged in the shadows of the local giants, Tektronix and Intel. "Even there," she says, "the start-ups didn't create 5,000 jobs. Youngstown has Turning, yes, but that won't generate 15 spinoffs. If there's two successful ones, that would be good. Perhaps Youngstown needs to lower its goals and go after low-level tech jobs -- the sort of work that often goes to India or China, like customer support."
But Mayer, who is on leave this year in Switzerland, is far removed from the good news that has of late been sweeping Youngstown. In February, a French pipe manufacturer, Vallourec, announced plans to spend $650 million building a Youngstown plant that will make small-diameter pipes for natural gas extraction. That project will create 350 blue-collar jobs. Eight days later, General Motors said it would expand operations at its Lordstown plant, just outside Youngstown, by adding a third shift and 1,200 jobs. The factory now employs 4,500 workers. Meanwhile, Ryan's grant money keeps streaming in. Ned Hill, the dean of Cleveland State University's urban affairs program, feels Youngstown has momentum. "There's unprecedented optimism there," he told me. "The mayor is walk-on-water amazing, and they know what they're doing at the incubator. They realize that incubation isn't just about giving away free space. And because that area is dominated by community, as opposed to national, banks, the tech companies can get good financing. The bankers there are willing to take a little risk to get Youngstown going again."
For Hill, the big question is: Will software companies stay in Youngstown? Tech start-ups are often funded by venture capital -- and VC firms have no qualms about selling a company as soon as it achieves some success and letting it be swept out of town. "Will that happen in Youngstown, or are YBI companies poised to stay and grow?" Hill asks. "The honest answer is, I just don't know. I am not smarter than the market."
Along with Hill, Mayor Williams knows that high tech is a gamble -- and that it can't single-handedly rescue Youngstown. "We're pursuing software," he says, "but not with the notion that it will replace steel. Manufacturing will still play a role here, and the service industry, too. We've got a new call center downtown that's employing 650 people."
Ryan also wants diversity. "We do have a manufacturing base," he says, "and we need to build on that. But computers -- that can change our image. The average salary at the business incubator is $58,000. That's a force multiplier for us. We want those kinds of jobs here. And so we're designing a city that people would want to live in."
Soon, Ryan was talking about a Youngstown entrepreneur who had just spruced up three local golf courses, to host LPGA tournaments. "You want world-class golf here?" he says. "We've got it. You like to ski? It's nearby. You like hunting and fishing? It's here. Music? We've got Elton John coming. Right in downtown Youngstown, at the Covelli Centre. Elton John!"
When I had downtime, I wandered about town in the snow. The lyrics from a famous Bruce Springsteen dirge, "Youngstown," wafted about in my head: "Here in Youngstown/ Here in Youngstown/ My sweet Jenny, I'm sinkin' down." In its direness and gloom, the soundtrack seems to fit, until Youngstown's quiet old splendor sneaks up on you.
Directly across the street from YBI is the Powers Auditorium, built for $1 million in 1931 by three of Hollywood's Warner brothers, who were Youngstown natives. The woodwork is wrought of Carpathian elm. The ceiling is coved and gilded, as in a church, and hung with grand chandeliers.
A few miles away is Kravitz Deli, which has been serving corned beef sandwiches since 1939. Founder Rose Kravitz, now 94, still works six days a week, even though she is nearly blind.
Ethnicity still matters in Youngstown, a city that lured legions of immigrants, mostly Italians and Eastern Europeans, in its steel heyday. Myriad Polish, Slovakian, and Ukrainian churches sell pierogis on Fridays, and on Saturdays at one Croatian eatery, the Dubic Palm Cafe, servers carve up whole smoked lambs on a backroom table, in full view of the diners. There is an old-world charm to Youngstown, a substance and intricacy that you would never find amid the McMansions of Phoenix. The place can pull on a person, and a few years ago, one Youngstown native, John Slanina, missed Youngstown while living in the Netherlands. Slanina, a policy analyst focused on tech-based development, launched a blog titled I Will Shout Youngstown.
The project became a record of one expat's homesickness. Slanina wrote about both ancient Youngstown delights and nouveau tweaks, such as the group Polish Youngstown, which offers Polish-language karaoke at its sprightly ragers. A fondness pervades every word. When Slanina discusses a wedding tradition unique to the rust belt -- the cookie table -- he lambastes a friend's painfully cookieless wedding. "The initial shock of not having a cookie table is difficult for the soul," he says, "but it also shows us how there are some traditions out there that are weaved into the core of our beings, which you can't find everywhere throughout the country."
Cossler is happy to have Slanina in his corner. He dreams of a day when students at Harvard yearn to be sitting on West Federal Street, quaffing Rust Belt beer, which is proudly brewed with Youngstown tap water. But he doesn't want to pinion bright twentysomethings. "We want our best and brightest to leave Youngstown," he says. "We want them to go to Seattle or New York or wherever, and then come back and share everything they learned."
