You could call Midland quirky. Or you could just go with snakebit.

Either way, it is a place that demands its boosters have an edge to them, as well as tenacity.

Midland activist Stacy Emerson has these qualities in spades. She’ll need them to answer the regulators and keep her business alive at a time when her community’s former glory has faded.

In its prime, Midland’s lumber mill, feed depot, rails and light industry connected rural Pierce County to a growing Tacoma. Young people in search of a good time danced at Midland Community Hall on weekends. It was a neighborhood with its sleeves rolled up.

Today the feed depot is closed. Ditto Zook’s deli, once “home of the Midland Monster” sub. The lumber mill is for sale. The dance hall property on East 97th Street is piled with rusty shipping containers.

On the plus side, some light industries and businesses on and along Portland Avenue are complying with building and land-use codes. The vintage bars and restaurants, one with a mini-golf course, thrive on their regulars’ trade. There’s a good day care center, a modest grocery and an attractive building that contains half a dozen small businesses. Dawson Park’s playfields, walking track and picnic shelters are constantly busy.

Dreams of redevelopment and prosperity have been built on less.

Enter Midland stalwarts Stacy Emerson and Cindy Beckett. They have been working with Pierce County Councilwoman Barbara Gelman on the idea of a Midland Main Street. They want development funds to spruce up the infrastructure with, say, sidewalks and streetlights. They think private investment would follow.

Beckett sees a farmers market supplied by locals and fallow land converted to a community garden.

Emerson imagines the grain silo restored as some kind of icon. Then the reality of its condition slaps her dreams down to a more modest scale.

She lives on the second floor of Midland’s oldest remaining commercial building. Built in 1916 at 1809 99th St. E., it was a five and dime, then a shoe repair shop, before Emerson set up a frame shop with a specialty in memorabilia displays. She rented out the building for a few years after she closed the shop, but it sat vacant for 10 months, and she needs income from it.

She has a history in the music business, and thought the space might fill a need.

This spring, she opened it as a music co-op. Members pay $100 a month and book the space for rehearsals, lessons, guitar clinics, even a few small performances.

She built a 4-inch riser. She set out memorabilia for sale. She bought chairs. She rented the 1,000-square-foot space out for two benefits featuring acoustic guitar performers.

And she got busted.

Midland is one of those spots where rural attitudes bruise themselves against regulations.

Pole buildings go up without proper permits. Dump trucks cut through, and cut up, wetlands. Zoning is considered more advisory than mandatory.

The offended report the offenders, and relationships get testy. Emerson has reported several land-use offenders. Now she’s pretty sure one of them returned the favor.

Someone called Pierce County to report that Emerson had built a stage, and that she was changing the use from a shop to an assembly hall.

She is not a woman of means; she’s an activist who fights crime and protects the environment. There’s no pay in that, but she keeps at it. She has earned the respect of many neighbors, as well as county officials whom she has prodded.

To the county’s credit, officials looking into this are treating her with respect, even kindness. Staff at the Building Division will meet with her Wednesday to look at the building, the work she has done on it and the parking situation in the area.

You bet we want them to insist on any changes required for health and safety. Emerson has friends who will help her comply.

As for parking, I hope they realize that, on weekend nights, Midland has it in abundance.

I would hope they consider the music hall in the same class as an art gallery that hosts occasional receptions.

I would hope they look at this small enterprise as a green shoot of hope in quirky, snakebit Midland, and find a way to nurture it.

Kathleen Merryman: 253-597-8677

kathleen.merryman@thenewstribune.com