Three tales of two cities.

• Author: Nelson, Luann
• Position: Includes related article

Pulled by the past, pushed into the future, these six towns struggle to keep pace with change without stumbling.

They survive and thrive under the giant's shadow, their destinies, to a large degree, determined by that of their neighbor. But Matthews and Mooresville, two towns that grew up on the right side of the tracks to Charlotte, have managed to maintain their identities and independence in the Queen City's realm.

When he was a boy in Charlotte, Barry Webb's family would drive out to Matthews. "They had a public swimming pool," recalls Webb, 46, now Matthews' town manager. "Coming out here was like coming into the country."

Now Matthews and Charlotte share a common boundary, the only delineation a few small, green signs that read: "Matthews City Limits." Otherwise, the strip shopping centers, condo developments and fast-food chains suggest big-city sprawl far more than small-town charm. Once a fiercely independent town that possessed everything needed to serve its 1,200 residents, Matthews has had to move aggressively the past 15 years to avoid being engulfed by the state's biggest city.

Emboldened by North Carolina's liberal annexation laws and a 1984 truce with Charlotte that defined each community's "sphere of influence," Matthews survived by growing. In doing so, it lost something of its identity as a small town whose citizens act and think differently than their urban counterparts. That difference has become as blurred as its city limits.

First known as Stumptown because most of its trees had been cut down for lumber, Matthews was little more than a stagecoach stop until 1874, when the railroad connecting Charlotte to Monroe came through. The town, renamed for Watson Matthews, one of the railroad's directors, had grown to 191 residents by 1880.

With two cotton gins, a hardware store and a grocer, Matthews' economy depended largely on farm trade. But in the 1950s and '60s, Charlotte grew toward Matthews, and Matthews grew toward Charlotte. "There are probably 500 old families out of the 15,000 people in Matthews that have really been here for generations," says state Rep. Shawn Lemmond, Matthews' mayor from 1987 to 1991. "We don't have a geographic buffer like most other small towns."

Between 1980 and 1992, the population grew tenfold to more than 15,000, earning it a place among the nation's fastest-growing suburban communities. In fact, it is just a little too large to qualify for BUSINESS NORTH CAROLINA's ranking of small towns with populations between 2,500 and 15,000. Most of those moving to Matthews were Charlotteans looking for larger quarters or transferees from other cities going to work in Charlotte. Median household income reached $50,980 in 1990.

But Matthews isn't just a bedroom community. Its tax base includes the headquarters and warehouses of several major companies, including Harris Teeter, Pic 'N Pay Shoes, PCA International and Family Dollar Stores. Most of them established operations here in the 1970s, before the residential influx. Unemployment consistently has been less than 3%.

As the commercial and residential base grew, retailers were sure to follow, particularly along Independence Boulevard, Charlotte's longest, ugliest commercial strip, which runs through part of Matthews. The amount of retail space approved grew by more than 25% in the past five years with such national merchandisers as Home Depot opening stores. Another major retailer, Target, plans to begin construction on a new store later this year.

The opening this summer of a $43.6 million hospital and $11 million medical office by Presbyterian Health Services is another demographic stamp of approval. Plans for a regional mall at Independence Boulevard and N.C. 51 are on hold pending the completion of road construction.

Matthews' downtown has struggled as local merchants try to compete with the chain stores a couple of miles away. "A little hardware store can't compete with Lowe's. They've got to be unique," says Lemmond, whose family once owned a hardware store and remains one of downtown's largest property owners. "So we moved to put in decorative lighting and bury the power lines and add flower beds and other things that should help make it a little special, something more than a deserted area."

The grasp of the past remains strong. Projects of the Matthews Historical Society and Downtown Revitalization Committee include restoration of Matthews Grist Mill, an old blacksmith shop and the Nancy Reed Home, one of the town's oldest houses. "There's a very strong tie to the history of the town," says Suzanne Gulley, editor of the weekly Matthews News. "People seem to want to retain the small-town atmosphere here."

To control growth, town officials are selective about the building plans they will approve. "We're in a position many towns would be envious of," says Mayor Lee Myers, who practices law in Charlotte. "We don't have to take anything that comes down the pike." Nearly all potential development sites have been zoned as conditional district zones, meaning building permits can only be issued after the Town Council has approved site plans. "I would say we turn down about 80% of the proposed projects the first time," Webb says.

The restrictions are especially stringent downtown. "We want to expand, but we also want to do it in a way that complements the structures that are already there," Webb says. City officials are cracking down on the placement and size of billboards and signs and exercising tighter control over architecture of proposed buildings."

But whether Matthews can retain some of the amenities of a small town while avoiding the big-city problems Charlotte faces is up to its citizens, Lemmond says. "You can control growth all day long and have the prettiest buildings around, but if you don't have volunteer organizations to network people together, you can't maintain a community spirit in the face of such high transition."

In 1917 as a train pulled into Mooresville, a passenger asked the conductor what the population was. "I don't know," the conductor replied. "But when we arrive, look out the window and count 'em. They'll all be at the depot."

When the Atlantic, Tennessee and Ohio Railroad completed the 40-mile stretch that connected Charlotte to Statesville in 1856, the land that John Franklin Moore donated to the railroad company for a cotton depot became the center of Moore's Siding, which quickly turned into a town.

Sitting out in the country, the terminal regularly sent out railway cars filled with cotton, butter, eggs, chickens and lumber. By 1873, when Mooresville incorporated, the village had turned into a prosperous and progressive little place. Mooresville Telephone Service, one of the few city-owned telephone companies remaining in North Carolina, listed 98 phone lines in 1904. In 1914, the town was installing underground utilities. Cotton mills have been in operation since the 1890s, and textiles is still a mainstay. Burlington Industries is the town's largest employer with 1,200 workers.

The citizens of Mooresville take great pride in where they've come from and where they are," Mayor Joe Knox says. "Their concern now is, 'Where are we going?'"

Today, Interstate 77 has replaced the railroad as the pathway to prosperity. The highway runs straight to Charlotte, 30 miles -- a half-hour's commute -- south. There Interstate 77 connects with I-85, and I-40 is only about 15 miles north at Statesville. Until the past five years or so, the town progressed at its own speed with limited impact from Charlotte's growth. But with land for residential subdivisions and commercial sites in northern Mecklenburg County filling up and demand for Lake Norman living skyrocketing, that's rapidly changing.

In the past six years, Mooresville has landed more than 30 new plants and between 3,000 and 4,000 jobs, according to Dan Wallace, executive director of the Mooresville/South Iredell Chamber of Commerce. Among the new employers: Atlas Corp., Matsushita (the parent company of Panasonic) and Beacon Sweets. The new 500-acre Mooresville...