A way of life, they say, is at stake.

01:00 AM EST on Sunday, March 21, 2004

BY ALEX KUFFNER
Journal Staff Writer

BRISTOL -- Linda Arruda stands at the head of the table, flashes a smile and in a sweet voice tells the people sitting around the room about her plan to take down Dunkin' Donuts.

She lists the company's branches in and around Bristol. There's one in the center of Barrington, one on the west side of Warren and two on the east side, another on the east side of Bristol.

And there's one that will soon open in the heart of downtown Bristol's historic district. It's the reason why a dozen people have gathered in a sunlit hall inside the First Congregational Church this recent Thursday morning.

"I want to help the downtown Dunkin' Donuts fail," says Arruda, who wears a button reading "Do Not Donut."

"I'm willing to work on that," she says. "I will do my best to make it go out of business."

The others nod. "It knows no limit," someone says of Dunkin' Donuts. "It's a cancer," another replies.

THIS IS A typical meeting of Preserve Historic Bristol, a group co-chaired by Arruda that formed in January, soon after townspeople learned of a Dunkin' Donuts franchise's plans to move into a storefront at the corner of Hope and State streets.

Though some residents have welcomed the doughnut chain's arrival -- the storefront had been vacant for months -- the members of Preserve Historic Bristol see it as a threat.

They worry that the historic district's antique sellers, gift shops and bakeries will be replaced by The Gap, McDonald's or other mass franchises.

A way of life, they say, is at stake.

They want Bristol to join a small group of villages and towns across the country that have either banned or restricted so-called formula businesses.

The Town Council has shown interest and is looking into the legality of adopting restrictions. If it does, Bristol would be the first community in New England to do so.

"Bristol could lead the way." says Town Solicitor Michael Ursillo

IT WAS mid-December when the local weekly newspaper confirmed rumors that had been around town for months. Joseph Prazeres, an East Providence businessman who owns five Dunkin' Donuts franchises in the East Bay, would open a sixth.

He had struck a deal with Aidan Graham, who owns Aidan's pub, and has been involved in revitalizing parts of Thames Street.

Prazeres approached Graham about a corner storefront in what's known as the Easterbrooks-Paull Block, a building constructed in 1899 that was once home to a grocery store and was last occupied by Duffy's News.

The building sits on Hope Street, the downtown's main drag, opposite a Federal-style mansion and a marble school building. The street, shaded by lindens and horse chestnuts, features a mixture of clapboard houses and shops, including Muzzie's Attic, Bristol Bagel Works and the Sunset Cafe.

Prazeres's was Graham's first serious prospect, according to Robert Leach, an architect working with Graham to restore the building.

Leach, who lives in Bristol, said there was never any question of turning down Prazeres because he wanted to put a Dunkin' Donuts into the building. (Graham didn't respond to requests for an interview.)

"It almost didn't matter to me who was going to be in there," Leach said.

OTHERS SEE THINGS differently.

Almost immediately after hearing about the deal, local shop owners complained that bringing in a multinational chain would drive up rents.

The members of Preserve Historic Bristol started holding weekly meetings. They circulated a petition against Dunkin' Donuts, collected 2,200 signatures, and mailed it to the head of the doughnut chain's parent company, Allied Domecq Quick Service Restaurants, which is based in Randolph, Mass.

And they set their sights on a bigger challenge -- barring all stores, restaurants or hotels that are required by contract to have standardized services, decor, uniforms, menus or other methods of operation.

In the 1980s, Carmel, a city of 5,000 on California's northern coast, became the first community in the United States to restrict these formula businesses.

In the years since, eight other municipalities have followed Carmel's lead. Most are in California, but there are others in Florida, New York and Washington state.

Each, like Bristol, has fewer than 25,000 residents. And some larger communities, including San Francisco and Boulder, Colo., have recently considered regulating formula businesses.

According to Stacy Mitchell, a researcher with the Minneapolis, Minn.-based Institute for Local Self-Reliance, large retailers tend to displace local shops. The author of The Hometown Advantage: How to Defend Your Main Street Against Chain Stores and Why It Matters says losing one locally-owned store can cause a ripple effect.

Further, "You lose the distinctive character of your town," said Mitchell. "You lose your sense of place."

THAT FEAR is driving the effort in Bristol, says Arruda, who has lived in town since 1967 and owns Paper, Packaging and Panache, a gift store located a block away from where the new Dunkin' Donuts would be.

It's not enough, she says, for the town to adopt stricter zoning laws that govern the exterior appearances of shops.

Her group worries that the new Dunkin' Donuts, no matter what it looks like, would aggravate parking problems in the downtown, snarl traffic along narrow Hope Street, generate litter and, in the long run, hurt tourism.

Betty Pleacher, chairwoman of the East Bay Chamber of Commerce said the town has to look at both sides of the issue.

"Downtown Bristol has a certain mystique to it," she said. "I can understand that they want to keep the ambiance, but at the same time you have to think of free enterprise."

Town Solicitor Ursillo says that enacting regulations isn't a simple process. Bristol would first need enabling legislation from the General Assembly, and the town must consider whether restricting formula businesses is constitutional.

"The objection could be that it violates the equal protection clause of the Constitution because it applies to only one class of business," said Ursillo.

The regulations would also need to be strong enough to resist a legal challenge, he said.

IN CORONADO, Calif., restrictions on formula retail stores were recently upheld by a California Appeals Court judge.

"That ordinance isn't discriminatory," Mitchell said. "It doesn't say that Starbucks, for instance, can't come in. It says that if it does, it must create an entirely independent store with a unique menu."

However, advocates in the village of Port Jefferson, N.Y., haven't fared as well. After the trustees of the village banned formula fast-food restaurants from the village center in 2000, McDonald's soon challenged the ordinance.

The prospect of a drawn-out court battle led the trustees to question whether standing by the ordinance was worth it, said Bob Juliano, the administrator of the village on Long Island.

"They [McDonald's] said they'd pour as much money into their case as necessary," he said.

The village relented. Though the ordinance is still in place, a McDonald's franchise is now located on West Broadway, next-door to the Village Hall.

PRAZARES SAYS that he is sensitive to the state's distinctive character. But, he says, Rhode Island probably has the highest concentration of Dunkin' Donuts in the country.

"It seems like there's one on every corner," he said.

Prazeres has worked hard to create the right impression in the East Bay with his five shops. None of them is quite like the one he is planning in downtown Bristol.

The shop will feel more like a cafe, he says, in an effort to make it fit in with the century-old buildings in the historic district. It won't have a drive-through.

Instead of the company's typical orange-and-purple color scheme, the cast-iron front of the store will be painted off-white and light brown to match the rest of the building.

On March 4, the Historic District Commission approved the shop's two signs, which will have gold leaf letters eight inches tall. The gooseneck lights above the signs won't be as bright as other Dunkin' Donuts shops. Prazeres also agreed not to put posters in the windows.

And Leach is working with Prazeres's architect to ensure that historical elements of the brick building are preserved. The beadboard on the interior walls will be restored as will the checkered tiles on the floor. The drop ceiling will be removed.

"We're trying to do the right thing," Leach said.

But Prazeres worries that no matter what he does, he'll be criticized by the members of Preserve Historic Bristol.

"I'm a small businessman," he says. "I carry the Dunkin' Donuts name, but I'm a local guy. I would never do anything to hurt the community."

His attorney, Louis A. Sousa, says the franchise will apply this month for a building permit for the remodeling. Prazeres plans to open the shop in May.

BACK AT THE First Congregational Church, the members of Preserve Historic Bristol talk about why they moved to Bristol.

Michael Rossi moved here from King of Prussia, Penn., where, he says, pastureland has been replaced by a mall.

Carolyn White, a retired schoolteacher, grew up in Freeport, Maine, the home of LL Bean and an outlet shopping center, and remembers when small businesses and houses lined both sides of Main Street.

"But it's gotten so that noone can afford to live there anymore," she says. One large retailer after another has moved in, "and then your grandmother's house becomes Banana Republic."

Arruda asks everyone what they hope to accomplish by keeping formula businesses out of the downtown. Some talk about protecting local stores. Others say the fight in Bristol could spark changes elsewhere, in places like Jamestown, East Greenwich or Wickford village in North Kingstown.

White believes their group is making a statement.

"We want to make it clear," she says. "that this town still belongs to the fishermen, the merchants, the people who live here."