The whole time I kept thinking about The Turtle.

You know the building, the one in downtown Niagara Falls that looks like a giant turtle.

I was there way back when the Turtle’s owner, Niagara Falls Redevelopment, invited former Mayor Irene Elia and other local dignitaries to a groundbreaking event at the facility.

It was supposed to be a coming together of sorts for NFR and Elia, a woman who often described the company as nothing more than a bunch of do-nothing land speculators.

It was a rare day. Everyone made nice. They even broke out the shiny ceremonial shovels for effect.

It felt like some life might actually return to one of the most recognizable buildings in the city.

For whatever reason, it didn’t.

The building remains NFR’s property and another on the list of downtown curiosities, the kind tourists approach only to say things to one another like “gee, honey, I guess it’s closed.”

Anyway, that’s what was going through my head as I listened to state Comptroller Thomas DiNapoli last week.

During his press conference at City Hall, DiNapoli talked about all the things the city didn’t do that allowed NFR and Rainbow Mall lease holder Cordish Co. to do what they have been doing in the Falls since 1997 and 1981, respectively. He suggested the city dropped the ball during contract negotiations and did a poor job on the follow-up. He set out a series of recommendations aimed at avoiding making the same mistakes with different developers in the future.

The auditors got it right, of course. The city shares a lot of the blame for the disappointing results of both agreements.

They also offered a pretty one-sided review.

DiNapoli did his best to avoid offering any opinion on what, if any, responsibility rested with either NFR or Cordish.

Mayor Paul Dyster didn’t get into it either. He towed the politically correct line, saying only that the city wants to continue to work with both parties and remains hopeful for the future.

Wisely, politicians normally don’t render judgments on companies like NFR or Cordish. They don’t want to risk irritating a potential business partner or thrusting the community into some ugly legal battle.

There is, however, such a thing as the local court of public opinion and, after years of questionable results, most residents would convict both companies of being big-time disappointments.

Still, in thinking about DiNapoli’s conclusions, I came to one of my own: The city and its residents should just move on.

NFR and Cordish are current on their taxes. They are up to date on other fees. The auditors say they are generally in compliance with the terms of the deals they signed. DiNapoli himself said there few viable options that would allow the city to undo any past disappointments.

Like it or not, NFR and Cordish appear to be here to stay.

Dyster believes both companies truly want to realize return on their investments.

Logic suggests he’s right.

Who in their right mind would want to own an empty building that looks like a giant Turtle in the middle of one of the world’s most recognizable tourist destinations and keep it closed, well, just because? Would a company lease an inactive mall property just to annoy the neighbors? These are still businessmen, aren’t they?

There are other factors, the current state of the economy being just the latest.

The fact remains that downtown Niagara Falls has yet to achieve the gold standard of development, the tipping point where investors are no longer concerned about being the only guy on the block, but are instead trying to figure out how to become one of “the” guys on the block.

Niagara Falls thought the people behind NFR were those guys. David Cordish’s reputation suggested he’d be a bigger player too.

There’s no need to rehash what’s been “accomplished” so far or to continue to point fingers of blame.

The key question now is: Where do things go from here?

Long-suffering Niagara Falls residents can only hope the answer involves something better than just crawling along.

Contact reporter Mark Scheer at 282-2311, ext. 2250.