Newtonville resident Amy Dain wondered whatever happened to an old factory in her neighborhood.
The abandoned factory of my childhood memories was not like nineteenth century riverfront factories, brick splendor punctuated by regular windows. It was also no concrete box of the modern era. It was all murky glass, pre-modern, ghostly. I recall no signs on the building, no indication of what was fabricated within. It was so out of place that I questioned if I had made it up. Google proved useless to answer.
What Dain discovered as she tried to find out what happened unearthed a public debate — and zoning decisions — that sound familiar today.
Newton needed to decide what could replace the factory, on the park, next to an excellent elementary school, and a short walk to CVS and the commuter rail. One suggestion was