Photos by STEPHANIE KLEIN-DAVIS The Roanoke Times

Bedford is a draw for folks such as motorcyclists Judy and Dennis Robbins of Midlothian who were at the nearby Peaks of Otter.

Eileen Pickett (from left), Anne Bond and Lizbeth Laurrell, all Bedford-area residents, are part of a group that helps local charities.

BEDFORD -- Residents and shopkeepers here agree the place has the trimmings of an all-American town: a slumberous tempo, little brick buildings shoulder to shoulder on a lamp-lined Main Street, and friendly police officers who'll nod and sympathize if you stop to grumble about the weather.

Yes, a picture-perfect little town.

But the reality is -- Bedford isn't a town. It's a city. And it's been a city since 1968.

Now, as city leaders labor to turn the city back into a town -- a complicated governmental process known as reversion -- some folks here have the feeling that, in the ways that count, Bedford already is a town; that for the most part it's a city in name only.

If cities are about inhuman hustle-bustle, Bedford is about local churches working together to stock the food bank, Christmas lights at the Elks National Home and homemade pies on sale during the summer street festival in a community where the interests of Norman Rockwell and Frank Capra intersect. Even a sign along the road into Bedford proclaims, "World's Best Little Town."

"This is not a city to me," says Jennifer Thomson, a longtime employee of the Bedford Museum at 201 E. Main St. "I've lived an hour north of L.A., near Richmond and Munich. They're cities. This is not a city.

"Anywhere in Bedford is five minutes away."

Bedford, which sits on less than seven square miles in the midst of Bedford County, has a population of 6,356, according to 2008 estimates from the Weldon Cooper Center for Public Service. As a city, it's the fourth smallest in the state, one-ninth the size of the average Virginia city and smaller than sundry other communities that call themselves towns.

But beyond the numbers, Bedford simply has the feel of a town, City Manager Charles Kolakowski said. "I think it's the compact nature, the fact that it's a close-knit community where you have a center town that's really a center town. There's a real sense of community."

City and county officials have been in discussions since last year, meeting privately -- as the law allows -- to look over the pros and cons of reversion, an act that would give the county responsibility for providing some services to city residents and allow the consolidation of other services. Under state rules, once a city becomes a town, it can never go back to being a city, but it would have the power to attempt to annex county land. (There's a statewide moratorium on city annexations.)

Because the talks have taken place behind closed doors, the consequences of Bedford's reversion aren't publicly known and the subject has generated little public discussion. County spokesman Bill Hoy, though, says county officials are proceeding cautiously in order to protect the county's interests. City officials also have to be wary: Police Capt. Jim Bennett says Bedford does experience some city-type crime -- partly the result of Bedford's location between Lynchburg and Roanoke -- and becoming a town could make the police department less eligible for federal grant money.

History, meanwhile, offers little in the way of understanding how residents would ultimately feel about once again calling Bedford a town. In 1995, city voters rejected a plan to turn Bedford into a "shire."

Though the rustic-sounding moniker "Bedfordshire" might have been too new and strange for folks to embrace, they're used to hearing the city called a town.

For instance, Bob Layman, owner of Bob's Antiques on East Main Street, says customers from outside Bedford don't generally think of the place as a city: "They talk about 'town.' And most everybody comments on how nice it is."

Bedford began humbly enough when it incorporated as the town of Liberty in 1839. It changed its name to Bedford City in 1890, then back to plain old Bedford in 1912. It incorporated as the City of Bedford in 1968.

Since then, the community, centered on the sunlit portico of the county courthouse, has changed, but not dramatically. The downtown still retains its hardware store, antique shops, jewelry and furniture stores, banks and little restaurants. Large trees shade neighborhoods of modest homes on narrow streets. There are no surprises around any corner.

If anything, says 73-year-old Louise Bonds, every year Bedford seems to become more of a town instead of growing into a big city. Bonds said she remembers when downtown Bedford had two theaters, which is two more than it has today. "And," she adds, "it keeps a'dwindlin'."

Whatever deal city and county officials strike on reversion, the final say goes to a panel of judges appointed by the Virginia Supreme Court.

Resident Ruby Smith, who was born in Bedford 76 years ago and has lived on Bondurants Alley since 1955, says whether officials declare Bedford a town probably won't matter much to average citizens who spend little time fretting about the intricacies of local government. But on a personal note, she says calling it a town seems more accurate. "And seems to me it was better back when it was a town. We had theaters and buses running. It was just a better place to be."