Welcome, Bainbridge, to Fortress America.

At least, that’s the meaning some folks ascribe to the appearance of an ominous “security fence” around the back lot of the Winslow post office.

One of our favorite local activists describes it thusly:

“Sacred island ground (has been) blasphemed with a

razor-wired, chain-linked fence that invokes military-industrial violence and fear-mongering.”

It’s not an unreasonable reading, given the post-9/11

zeitgeist of periodic “orange alerts” and Coast Guard ferry escorts. Even the post office’s new general manager feeds the mythology, when he speculates that a terror suspect arrested six years ago at the Canadian border could have planned to steal a Bainbridge Island postal vehicle in which to place explosives, “since they were such easy targets.” In a

culture of national fear, such

random and patently improbable notions seem to hold at least some currency.

More than its defensive connotations in a community that already fancies itself something of a refuge, though, the post office’s decision to barricade itself in is disappointing for its apparent obstinacy in the face of the Winslow Tomorrow planning effort. Our downtown visioning speaks of possibilities; the fence, of limits.

Indeed, the post office property sits at the nexus of any number of visions for the downtown of the future — multi-use redevelopment, plazas, connections from Winslow Way to Waterfront Park, areas to celebrate commerce and exchange and community and beauty. And then up go the rolls of chain and wire — spare, mean, utilitarian. Homely as a mud fence, except homelier.

We appreciate the post office’s desire to protect its facility, and security fencing may well be de rigueur at other locations; it almost certainly is. Too, we’re given to understand that as federal property, the post office is not subject to local land use strictures (including, as the fence would suggest, aesthetic standards). Uncle Sam can do pretty much whatever he wants, even with a mailbag slung over his shoulder. But postal authorities should at the same time acknowledge their particular place in Winslow’s physical environment. Opportunities abound, with several council members suggesting that the branch could decentralize and move functions not related to customer service to some other location.

We don’t know whether that’s practical or not. But doesn’t it behoove local and regional postal authorities to come out from behind the shuttered window long enough to look around? Where are they? Even at this late hour, the post office would be a welcome player in Winslow planning, perhaps to explore how a new building — with, dare we say, secure underground parking — might be incorporated into the downtown fabric. The post office is an integral service for the pedestrian-oriented corridor, and the queues that regularly back up from counter to door, while annoying, are testament to its fine location. Yet it could still benefit from a little “visioning”; what couldn’t?

Lacking such, we fear that as the years pass and our downtown grows up around it, the Winslow post office will look increasingly wan, a barbed-wired bastion of purposeless resolve, a monument to things that just seemed important at the time.