Symbolic front facade left unused
Watertown Post Editorial
Take a stroll past Watertown City Hall — our center of civic life, our supposed house of the people — and you’ll notice something that says more about the city’s current direction than any budget meeting or ribbon-cutting ceremony ever could.
The front doors are closed. Locked. Unused. And printed right there on the glass in permanent-looking letters: “Please use side entrance on Sterling Street.”
No temporary sign. No indication this is a short-term inconvenience. Just an institutional shrug — as if the front of the building is no longer meant for the people at all.
This isn’t a grand historic structure with marble steps and towering columns. It’s a modern, accessible building — clean lines, smooth marble, wide walkways. It was designed with openness in mind. But that vision is being quietly erased. The message now? Go around. Don’t bother. We’re not really open for business in the way we once were.
And that, in a nutshell, is Watertown’s problem.
When the public’s front door is permanently sealed, what does that say about how our city operates? When the literal face of city government is reduced to an unused façade, what does that say about transparency, pride, and public service?
City Hall should be open — literally and symbolically. The front doors are not just a means of entry; they are a statement. They are supposed to say, “You’re welcome here.” Right now, they say the opposite.
We are a city of hard-working people who deserve better than side-door politics. If Watertown wants to attract talent, investment, and energy — it should start by acting like it belongs in the conversation. That means turning on the lights, opening the doors, and being proud of who we are and what we stand for.
Open the front doors. Not just for easier access — but to open a new chapter in how we present ourselves to the public we serve.

Yes I noticed this, the feeling in that building is one of untrust and dislike, it feels like the officials working there think there above the ordinary civilians that visit it as if there saying the ordinary people are just peasants and we are not good enough.
The Watertown Post’s editorial paints a dramatic picture of a city that’s supposedly closed off to its people — based on a locked front door.
Let’s be clear: the City of Watertown is not shutting itself off from the public. But it is trying to keep its employees and the public safe.
Not long ago, an individual entered City Hall unchallenged, made his way to the third floor, and confronted the city manager’s secretary. Thankfully, the situation was defused without incident. But it served as a wake-up call.
Unlike the County Office Building or the NYS DMV — which both have state-funded security guards at their front entrances — the City of Watertown has no such personnel stationed at its doors. Our only staffed entrance is on Sterling Street, where New York State provides security for the courts. Until a better long-term solution is developed, it is both practical and necessary to direct visitors through the one entrance that is monitored.
This isn’t about symbolism. It’s about safety. It’s not a permanent statement — it’s a temporary adjustment made with real-world risks in mind. And yes, signage could be clearer, and that’s being addressed. But let’s not confuse an unlocked door with openness and a locked door with secrecy.
City Hall is open. Council meetings are open. Decisions are made in public. And the same doors that lead to those discussions are still available — just around the corner.
If Hans or anyone else wants to talk about what real openness in government looks like, I’m all ears. But let’s not reduce it to a metaphor about a front door when the issue is one of public safety, not public exclusion.
—Cliff Olney
Watertown City Council Member
Cliff, you’re dead wrong about the metaphor — and the logic behind your justification doesn’t hold up.
If the concern is about someone committing violence inside City Hall, locking one door while leaving another one wide open (with no dedicated city security and everyone inside behind plexiglass anyway) doesn’t actually solve anything. A person intent on causing harm isn’t going to pause and say, “Oh, the front door’s locked — guess I’ll rethink everything.” They’ll just use the other door, the one you’re funneling everyone through.
This isn’t about one incident, it’s about the broader message being sent. You can say it’s not symbolic all you want — but that’s exactly what it is. A city that locks its front entrance, prints “use side door” directly on the glass as though the main entrance is permanently out of commission, and doesn’t even bother with an explanatory sign, is making a statement, whether you admit it or not.
The message is: “We don’t really expect the public to come through here anymore.”
We’re not saying safety doesn’t matter. We’re saying leadership should be able to figure out how to keep people safe without giving up on basic civic symbolism. A front door — especially at City Hall — is supposed to represent access, transparency, and public trust. Locking it down, permanently or not, breaks that trust.
Open the front doors. Keep the plexiglass. Put in a door buzzer if you must. But stop pretending this isn’t about the optics of a government that’s become more comfortable managing people than meeting them.
—Hans