The Ghosts of Recessions Past: Lessons from Somerville’s Front Lines
There’s something eerily familiar about the economic whispers today—the vacant storefronts, the stalled projects, the uneasy sense that the ground beneath us might shift again. It’s enough to make anyone nostalgic for the last time the world seemed to unravel. Personally, I think there’s a peculiar comfort in revisiting the Great Recession, not because it was easy (it wasn’t), but because it reminds us that economies, like people, have survived worse. Still, as I walked through Somerville recently, past empty lab spaces and shuttered shops, I couldn’t shake the feeling that history isn’t just repeating—it’s rhyming.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how local leaders like former Somerville Mayor Joe Curtatone experienced the crisis. Curtatone, who steered the city from 2004 to 2022, wasn’t just a spectator; he was in the trenches. When I spoke to him, one thing immediately stood out: his raw recollection of the human cost. “It was the personal hardship of our constituents,” he said, his voice still carrying the weight of those years. What many people don’t realize is that recessions aren’t just about stock charts or GDP numbers—they’re about people losing their homes, their businesses, their sense of security.
From my perspective, Curtatone’s memories of the Great Recession are a masterclass in how economic shocks ripple through communities. He talked about Assembly Row, a project that nearly collapsed overnight as developers’ portfolios cratered. If you take a step back and think about it, this wasn’t just a financial setback—it was a blow to the city’s future. Economic development projects aren’t just buildings; they’re promises of jobs, growth, and stability. When those promises evaporate, the entire community feels it.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how Curtatone’s team tried to avoid layoffs. They resisted, they maneuvered, but eventually, they had to cut. This raises a deeper question: How much control do local leaders really have in the face of a global crisis? It’s a sobering reminder that even the most creative fiscal strategies can’t always outrun a recession’s gravity.
Fast forward to today, and Curtatone, now an executive at an EV company, sees storm clouds gathering again. Tariffs, rising costs, and a lack of construction cranes in Greater Boston—it’s all eerily familiar. But what this really suggests is that the lessons of the Great Recession haven’t fully sunk in. Federal infrastructure money helped then, but under different leadership, cities like Somerville might not have the same safety net.
One thing that struck me during our conversation was Curtatone’s obsession with CNBC’s Squawk Box during the crisis. He watched it religiously, clinging to the hope that the talking heads might offer a way out. “I hope this freaking guy is right,” he remembered thinking. “Because this sucks.” It’s a human moment that captures the desperation and resilience of those years.
If there’s one takeaway from all this, it’s that recessions aren’t just economic events—they’re cultural and psychological ones too. They test our leadership, our communities, and our ability to bounce back. Personally, I think we’d all do well to remember that the next time we hear doom-and-gloom predictions. Because while the numbers matter, it’s the people behind them who truly define the story.
So, what does this mean for Somerville—or any city, for that matter—today? In my opinion, it’s a call to prepare, not panic. The challenges are real, but so is the capacity for innovation and resilience. As Curtatone put it, “The storm might be a few years on this one.” Let’s hope we’ve learned enough to weather it.
P.S. If you’ve got thoughts on the state of the economy, locally or globally, I’m all ears. Capitalism’s highs and lows are a never-ending story, and I’d love to hear your take.
Reach out at your.email@example.com.
