I’ve been a reporter and editor at The Badger Herald for more than two years, and over that time I’ve covered and followed dozens of stories ranging from extraordinary to mundane. If there is one thing I’ve learned, it is that what is breaking news today is old news tomorrow, and events from two months ago are just memories you barely have time to miss.

There is one story I’ve never gotten a chance to miss, however, because it is the only story that has never gone away. The proposed renovation of the Edgewater Hotel has been covered by the Herald and every other newspaper in town since before most of you were students. Earlier this week, the project lost $12.7 million in city funds, rendering the project effectively dead.

It’s a crazy notion that debate over whether or not to renovate a hotel could last almost three full years. But the debate over the Edgewater was so heated because it was about more than just a hotel; it was about the historical character of a neighborhood, the revitalization of a run-down landmark, a shady developer attempting to run over locals who care and so many more things. From my perspective as a local government wonk, the Edgewater debate was a perfect example of the unique and lovable beast that is Madison politics.

There were passionate characters like Fred Mohs, who shelled out thousands of dollars for a scale model to show committees how out of proportion the hotel would be – on a personal note Fred, if you’re not doing anything with the model, we at the Herald would love to preserve it for history – and Eugene Devitt who blasted polka music at an official city meeting to demonstrate how disruptive live bands can be to those in the area.

These people were sometimes causes of exasperation in the newsroom, but we could see how much they cared for their city and their neighborhood, and that is something I have always loved about Madison’s most vocal citizens.

On the other side of the debate, we had “the establishment” – the mayor, the project developer Hammes Co. and several alders. Then-Mayor Dave Cieslewicz was a huge advocate from the start, pushing City Council and its various committees to see his way, a move he was sometimes criticized for. Ultimately, Dave was voted out of office, an event many people partially credit to his pushing so hard for the project.

But even when he lost the election, Dave never apologized or backed off his support. In fact, he told the Herald he wished he had addressed criticisms about his support more directly.

In the same interview he said he was more interested in being mayor of Madison than in being a politician. It is, then, no surprise Dave wanted to do what he thought would be right for the city, even if it was unpopular. In the Edgewater debate, Cieslewicz exemplified a trait that can be seen in many of the city’s officials – Madison comes before politics.

Would the hotel have truly brought in the jobs, tourism and revenue it promised? Would the sacrifice of the historical relevance of the area be worth it? Would the city’s TIF investment have paid off? Maybe. Maybe not. But I can say, with absolute certainty, that the long fought debate was something I always looked forward to – a local matter being passionately argued by people who care about their city. That’s what I loved about the Edgewater debacle, and that’s what I love about Madison.

Who knows what project will be next? It could be the 100 block of State Street renovation, but it has yet to inspire the same fervor in citizens and officials that the hotel did. The project has yet to be revealed, but what is certain is that the same players will be out again, showing their teeth.

Until then, though, I will simply mourn the passing of my oldest news friend – a story I’ve worked with longer than any of my current colleagues here at the Herald.

Goodbye, Edgewater. I’ll miss you.

Carolyn Briggs ([email protected]) is a senior majoring in English.