A Vision Of Quaint Divides East Boston

[Erik Sine]

By Russell Nichols, Globe Staff | January 23, 2006

In the early evening, as the sun slips below the skyline, Carlos Posada walks to his East Boston store window and flips a switch. Outside, the sign comes to life.

You can see it from the other side of Central Square: a white rectangular beacon with bright logos and words hailing deals on cellphones and cable TV. Posada, 36, the owner of Aries Communication, said he knows a basic principle of business.

''A good sign will bring people in," he said. ''That's why people go to Las Vegas."

With new residents and increased prosperity arriving in East Boston, Posada and other business owners are feeling pressure from the city, neighborhood groups, and business organizations to replace their luminous signs with historical-looking wooden ones, to evoke an old-fashioned New England feel.

The effort has pitted the neighborhood groups against some business owners who say they need the bright signs to attract customers and who want the areas to remain as they are.

''That's how we made the sign when we opened the store. That's how it has always been, and that's how it's going to stay," said a man who gave his name only as Enrique at his father's El Poder Musical record store on Meridian Street.

East Boston Main Streets, a nonprofit community group that works to revitalize neighborhoods, has been working with the East Boston Chamber of Commerce, the neighborhood's largest business organization, taking pictures of signs in East Boston's Central and Maverick squares. They plan to make a presentation to business owners comparing what they consider good and bad signs. They are also offering money through a storefront improvement program that would help defray some of the costs to replace signs, said Ernest Torgersen, the executive director of East Boston Main Streets.

City inspectors, meanwhile, are checking permits and scouring the area for signs that are too large or otherwise violate city codes, said Sal LaMattina, chairman of the city's Neighborhood Response Team in East Boston, composed of officials who address neighborhood concerns.

The goal is to transform the gritty, neon-splashed business districts of Maverick and Central Square into quaint, old-town areas that neighborhood and city officials say will be more inviting and have a stronger connection to the surrounding community. Officials said that the squares once had fewer big, lighted signs, and that the effort is, in part, an attempt to return to an earlier era.

Some business owners have embraced the plan. Fifty-year-old Sonny Noto's Restaurant in Central Square has a burgundy wooden sign with gold letters. Robert Noto, 33, a manager at the restaurant, said that flashy signs might attract people but that wooden signs give a better, warmer feeling.

''In the square, there's a certain amount of charm with the old-fashioned street lights," he said. ''It shows that it's a nice neighborhood to be in. It makes it look like people care."

In all, about a half-dozen businesses have agreed to switch to lower-key signs, said Main Streets officials, who add that they are also targeting some signs that don't light up but, in their view, are simply too busy, with too many colors, too many phone numbers, and unnecessary business descriptions.

But the groups attempting to reform the area have encountered resistance.

''I would never change my business for anyone, said Enrique, at El Poder. ''That's how it is."

Posada said that eight years ago, at another store in Maverick Square, he replaced his bright sign with a wooden green sign to make it look like others in the area. There, he said, his store seemed lost in the crowd. This time, he said, he would not surrender his $5,000 sign. ''I put up this one that lights up 10 times brighter than that one," he said, ''and they can't do anything about it."

On a recent evening, Posada stood in his store in Central Square, looking out the window. Many other stores have signs that light up, he said, as he pointed to a Walgreens across the street with its bright red sign.

''That's where it counts. It shows them who you are," he said.

Russell Nichols can be reached at rnichols@globe.com.