Rehoboth Beach needs to remember its tolerance

For close to 150 years, Rehoboth Beach has been known as a great place for families seeking a weekend of sunshine and sea. For a long time now, it has held its arms open for all people, from all persuasions. For as long as I can remember, Rehoboth has stood for tolerance, accommodation and acceptance.

Let's hope that never changes.

Let's hope that one day we'll all wake up and realize we're well past the debates over Dogfish Head's planned restaurant expansion, or the the contentious pool proposal, or any of the other issues that have come to dominate this normally tolerant town's agenda, from noise crackdowns to smoking bans.

Let's also hope Rehoboth's leaders will soon find a way to understand that they need to tread very carefully in their efforts to protect their town's quality of life, and that they need to move forward with a clearer understanding that in a resort town, officials should represent more constituencies than the residents alone.

If it wishes to survive and thrive, a resort town – which by definition is a quirky hybrid of "attraction" and "residential area" – cannot ever be an island unto itself. A resort town's success often depends not only on its inherent attractions, but also on its attitudes toward the travelers who visit and the businesses that cater to them. Travelers will flock to where they feel wanted and respected. Businesses will be keen to set up shop where they feel there is official support for their success.

When either stakeholder is repeatedly scorned, or when they feel harassed, they will flee, faster than a sunbather from an incoming storm. And as they do, that giant sucking sound you hear will be millions of dollars, flying out of Delaware and to other towns, other resorts, other residents.

It's especially ironic that the subject of Rehoboth's hyper-vigilance today is Dogfish Head, which perhaps more than any other business in town has enhanced the status of Delaware – and Rehoboth and Lewes and Milton – as a vacation destination. This is a company that has its roots in Rehoboth, its heart in Delaware, and which is led by a man who has become perhaps Delaware's greatest ambassador, and who always has Delaware's interests foremost in his mind.

What Dogfish is asking, and what owner Sam Calagione is seeking, is reasonable, prudent, and yes, entirely appropriate for a town that should be proud to call him one of their own.

As a homeowner in the resort area, I can sympathize with and respect concerns over quality of life. I do believe it is legitimate for residents seek to safeguard Rehoboth's charms as a quiet resort that's not overcommercialized, or overbuilt, or even overly noisy.

And it's also clear that Rehoboth is a victim of its own success in a way and does face some real challenges that it needs help resolving. Traffic in and around the town is at and beyond capacity at times, and safeguards against overdevelopment are not only appropriate, but crucial.

As Rehoboth's own Comprehensive Plan rightfully says: The city should "avoid outsized and inappropriate development that can crush the fine-grained urban fabric that makes downtown Rehoboth attractive in the first place."

But, as with most issues that seem fairly black and white, this one comes in many shades of gray. One person's "outsized and inappropriate development" is another's perfectly executed expansion. And it's useful in this case to also consider something we learned at the Delaware Economic Development Office, especially as the economy has grown more fickle and the American traveler more finicky:

In the tourism business – in any business, for that matter – success requires some measure of growth, some change and revitalization. Businesses and communities that remain static, that spurn all evolutionary forces, will wither. Disney World would be a lonelier place without different rides from time to time. Even McDonald's golden arches might lose some luster without the appearance of an occasional McGriddle to spark the appetite anew.

When a resort town decides that it cannot continue to bear the inevitable compromises to growth that are essential for its status as an evolving, improving destination, businesses will stop trying, travelers will quickly sense the sagging vitality, and the tourism dollars will start to disappear.

Rehoboth and its leaders are at the point where they must decide: Does Rehoboth Beach really want tourists and their money? Or, does Rehoboth Beach want them only on limited terms, subject to a litany of rules, regulations and legal clauses?

If it's the latter, we advise caution, because the signs are becoming clearer that they may soon get just what they're asking for.

Alan Levin is currently the director of the Delaware Economic Development Office and a member of Gov. Jack Markell's Cabinet. On June 30, he will leave DEDO and become senior adviser to SoDel Concepts, based in Rehoboth Beach.