Businesses die; it’s a fact of capitalist life. But when a business is the cornerstone of a neighborhood—even named after it, displaying it proudly in bold red letters—its death stings a little more.

Seventy-four years after first opening its doors, the Squirrel Hill Theater on Forward Avenue has closed, the Post-Gazette announced yesterday. Although Squirrel Hill is no stranger to businesses coming and going, saying good-bye last year to both Panera Bread and Barnes & Noble as it said hello to Dunkin Donuts, this is different. Those other stores are chains that breed across the country; Squirrel Hill Theater was a unique symbol in its community.

This closing is sad for a neighborhood already spotted by empty storefronts, plagued by nearby commercial competitors at the Waterfront, but it actually seems to conflict with a larger positive trend in the city. Pittsburgh’s commercial real estate scene is the healthiest in the nation, according to a rankings released by Moody’s Investors Services in July. Oakland even  registered a zero-vacancy rate last quarter, something that is “almost impossible to achieve,” according to a realtor interviewed by the P-G.

This Wednesday the New York Times also published a story about East Liberty and the revitalization promised by two major developments: a two-story Target set to open next year and Bakery Square, a commercial center on the spot of the defunct Nabisco factory. The office spaces of Bakery Square, anchored by Google, have already opened, but its fitness center, hotel, and retail spaces (including Anthropologie, William Sonoma, West Elm, and Pottery Barn) are scheduled to open in May.

These developments are all exciting for the city’s financial prosperity, but what will they mean for local small businesses? Will Bakery Square, like the Waterfront, become a suck on entrepreneurship, causing more small businesses to close? Who knows. I’m about as far away from a finance major as you can get, so am hardly qualified to guess. (However, given what I do know about economics, I'd venture to ask: is anyone?)

But from what I, an average citizen, can tell, it's a big sticky process: big corporations provide lots of jobs and investments, which is good, but they also provide stiff and often unmatchable competition, which is bad. It’s the ol’ Wal-Mart conundrum—whether the big-box behemoth has helped or hindered our nation’s economy.

Personally, I’m a huge fan of locally owned businesses, and avoid chains like the plague, even if it means going out of my way or paying a little more. This is not just because I like to support the little man, which I do, but also because quality is often much better. (Take restaurants, for example; it’s not that hard to beat out the processed fried crap at Applebees.) And even if the quality isn’t great, say at a shoddy second-hand clothes shop, it’s the individuality that pulls me in.

While Squirrel Hill Theater was unique, I don’t know how much aesthetic appeal it had going for it anymore. Almost every comment I ran across online or heard in conversation was some version of this: “It was run-down, the picture wasn’t great quality, and the sound was a little fuzzy. But that sucks that it closed.”

And I have to agree. Symbolically, it is sad to see it go. But I admit that after I saw Pirate Radio there last fall, I left secretly wishing I had gone to the South Side Works instead. Part of the screen had been blurry and the sound went in and out, making me feel as if I were going deaf and blind, an experience one does not wish to have while trying to enjoy a flick. Plus, the tickets weren’t much (if any) cheaper than those at fancy-shmancy theaters, a factor that could have made me forgive the lack of quality. 

But I know--competition's tough; how could they have charged any less and still survived? Well, it doesn't matter, because they didn't survive anyway. Apparently too many people--many of whom, I'm sure, loved Squirrel Hill--just couldn’t see the logic in paying for a not-so-cheap ticket at a sort-of-crummy theater to see the same movies they could enjoy at fancy stadium-style Loews. Altruism and community loyalty only go so far when hard-earned cash is involved. 

So I think what might have been part of the Squirrel Hill Theater’s downfall was, ironically, that it showed mainstream movies, meaning it then had to compete with bigger theaters who have bigger budgets. What could it do that they couldn't? Well, consider Manor Theater over on Murray Avenue, which is owned by the same people as Squirrel Hill Theater and is similarly modest and low-tech, but shows hard-to-find indie and artsy films. It's still open. 

Considering this, perhaps local businesses, bracing themselves for Bakery Square’s opening, trying to figure out how to stay afloat, would do best not to compete. Instead, they should fill the gap that chains inevitably leave: provide quality and/or unconventional products/services, things we can’t get from bland mass-produced stores.

Maybe this is harder than it sounds, but I don't know if they have a choice. Because in this economic climate, it's harder for consumers to justify getting less for their dollar, no matter what community ties or emotions are involved. So give us something different, something more, and we’ll keep coming back. I promise.