With the Army leaving, Fort Monroe offers Hampton Roads enormous recreational, residential, cultural and commercial potential. And for many in Sout Hampton Roads, Fort Monroe is closer than the oceanfront.

 

That potential calls to mind the "creative class" chapter from this year's state-of-the-region report, which emphasizes the competitive importance of "'authenticity' -- the distinctive, special cultural attributes that define a location."

Shore Drive, and soon maybe Ocean View and Hampton's Buckroe Beach, offer bayfront population density. Fort Monroe offers bayfront authenticity.

That's why I protest state and regional leaders' apparent decision simply to donate Fort Monroe to Hampton. That decision defines Fort Monroe as merely a development opportunity for one city, not as a strategic opportunity for the region. It might even risk making Fort Monroe into McFort Monroe.

Yet newspapers from Richmond to Norfolk, usually regionalism-minded, seldom question the decision. On the Peninsula, the Daily Press called for the state to ensure that Hampton can "advance the redevelopment."

But consider Fort Monroe's potential for all of us. At its north end, a Buckroe-size beach could transform regional public access to the bay. Next comes a small commercial area, and then the historic stone fortress, built with a moat after the War of 1812 taught that the Atlantic itself wasn't always a moat protecting America.

A Norman Rockwell might depict the vintage houses on tree-shaded streets around and inside the stone fortress, where the chapel has Tiffany windows. Nearer the Chamberlin, the post resembles a college campus. Beside the Chamberlin, a dignified parade lawn, site of summer evening picnic concerts, overlooks one of the planet's grandest harbors.

For decades -- no, centuries -- to come, Fort Monroe's authenticity could continue to say: "This is how things ought to be."

But if control goes to Hampton, maybe not. As the Pilot reported, Fort Monroe "has developers salivating."

Here's a question that any Hampton-run planning process must inherently exclude: What about making Fort Monroe's recreational assets into a state park? Hampton's Web site asserts that "the commonwealth would prefer to avoid incurring" those costs, and that the "state's preferred focus seems to be economic redevelopment."

I asked Virginia's Department of Conservation and Recreation about that. Spokesman Gary Waugh avoided commenting on Hampton's assertions. But he considers it likely that under the Legacy of Parks program, the department will have to evaluate the state-park possibility.

But then, Hampton -- which once erected a parking garage on prime downtown waterfront -- has evaded other civic discussion about public bayfront property. Last summer, city council dodged discussion about its Buckroe development plan. Later, Hampton muzzled Buckroe dissidents by forcing them to channel comments through a city employee. Even the Daily Press editors, who support the Buckroe plan, criticized that.
 
Those editors have also noted that real estate developers doubled their contributions to statewide elections this time. In that atmosphere, no wonder Hampton mayor Ross Kearney seems to think private condos can enhance any public waterfront. He once remarked that "we might not want condos in both" Buckroe and a redeveloped Fort Monroe.

Now, it's true that some developers can act with real vision, as proven in Newport News by Robert Freeman Jr. in Port Warwick. It's admirable that Hampton seeks energetically to get ahead of a complex political process. No one wants a decade of dithering. And it's important to respect Hampton's unique stake.

Nevertheless, Hampton is just a city that grew over the centuries until it butted up against Fort Monroe. Legally, responsibility for Fort Monroe's future lies mainly with the state. No single city should chart that future alone.

That means the governor and legislature should fully empower an eclectic regional commission. Planning the future of this bayfront national treasure, this authentic regional asset, should involve the full spectrum of Virginians' imaginations, and memories.

In 1977, Corneliussen married the former Sarah Walsh of

Hampton in Fort Monroe's chapel. They live in Poquoson.

E-mail him at Corneliussen@alumni.Duke.edu