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| $200+ Million State Invest in Infrastructure $1.06+ Billion Billerud +"Incalculable" winds of fate |
While I might miss some of the cracks in the sidewalk and chipped paint on a few old stores that haven't been updated in a while. I remember coming back and seeing it about the same, with a little more sadness, then what it looked like when I left (Back then it was too small a place for a young buck. Not a lot of opportunities for college grads so they leave to go to school, the military, or to get married.) Within a year some of the empty store fronts will likely get some new life. While some aspects of our town may change, much of the flavor and life will stay the same.
I'm an old, new guy. My roots in this region run deeper and wider than most of the other families. I have been gone for a while; maybe 20 years. Doing something I thought was very important. Understanding the understandable of human nature and I have found what many people will never see (I could try and explain it but I'm still in the process of sort of formalizing it. I will share someday in my own special way. Promise. Shall we continue?........)
This town has that same spirit living within it. That spark that allows a town on the verge of collapse to become a new, bright, vibrant and living entity that will be around for a long time (Most have no idea how close it came to being a ghost town and ending the connections for many people and their families. I really don't think many have the experience of making difficult decisions that seem like cold numbers on an SEC filing, but yet have the power to impact people's lives on the other page in ways those numbers can't calculate. If you read the SEC filings over the years it will tell you the prospects of future investment. The trend line has changed for the better and may reach synergy at some point if it continues upward. Theoretically anyway.). This town has not only got new life, but perhaps the first of its kind and the first of the digital era (It has almost all the basics it needs.).
As the tourists start coming this spring, as the sounds of infrastructure fill the air with greater sweetness similar to what you might hear at an exquisite performance of something like Cold Song at the Opera . We will see change, we will see new things, and we will be better for it. (The vast majority of change is very valuable and positive.). We are becoming "connected".
As I ponder the history and future of this place and make my way to my favorite gym to get in some early morning cardio I cross paths with a Native American man walking toward me on the sidewalk. Tucked warm in his jacket with long flowing grey white hair reaching out from under his fur lined hood. (You know that type of long shinny hair that is hard for most men to grow. I think the fur was beaver but I was distracted.).
He was looking at me and I nod and say good morning as I fiddle to find my gym keys, "Excuse me sir" the man says just as I pass (He seemed prepared). I stop, turn around, with an inquisitive look I respond in curiosity, "Yes,"
He pauses for a moment thinking about something and watching my face intently.
In a low voice he asks, "Where are you from?"
Thinking my big city gym shoes, slightly smart winter jacket gave me away as a tourist! I respond sheepishly, "I'm an Escanaban".
"No, no I can tell that!" he grumbles waving away my comment as rhetorically useless. Where precisely did you grow up?" (The term precisely sort of caught me off guard. Something said in that manner in a term that is not particularly commonly used around here. I can tell this man has seen a few things. Back when I was a kid I met people who were WWII, even relatives of mine, and I could tell some of these guys had gained some insight beyond the sanctity of our town. They know things that others didn't know, others didn't have experience in, from an angle that allowed them to see things from a higher perspective. Its not something you can explain to someone who doesn't know.)
I respond, "Well, originally I'm from Bark River and then moved into town when I was very young."
He affords me a half smile that we often see in people who have seen a world deeper than our own (For me, that is not common. When I sense it I become instant ears and quickly resort to an inquisitive student perspective made from years of socialization to institutional life. Boarding school, military, higher education, much of a person's life.). You can recognize it because there is just a mannerism about it. Often a few short words and you can tell there is a lot going on up there then what is on the surface.
He says, "I thought so" with a drawn out ooo and a slightly upward linguistic tail. I pause expressionless not really sure I understand the meaning or what is actually being said here. I try for a second to figure out the multiple neural options and in what context they are meant but come up with a blank spot. I just can't put my finger on it! 👆
He could tell I was struggling to make sense of the comment. That is where you know your giving that "deer in headlights" look knowing you noticed something but not sure what exactly that is....you must wait to find out. Anticipation for a punch line I guess. Except I was lucky enough not to have to pay for this entertainment (Like a puzzle).
I begin to read his face as he has already read mine except I have no idea what I'm looking for while I suspect he already knows and has found what he was trying to understand. A much more trained and discerning eye than my own (I'm aware but not aware of what I'm aware.) We are looking at the world from two different stories but very similar tales I guess. I sense no ill intent so I relax and give the man the benefit of doubt.
His wrinkled hands reach into his jacket pocket and I again cringe because experience has taught me that he is about to hand me a donation envelop, a lost item, a pamphlet, give him a ride, or be forced to accept to his religious/philosophical/'world view' guidance (....or cast me out as a cultural heretic!). Having spent some time in the big city as a general rule you don't accept anything from anyone you don't know; let alone talk to them!
I'm cautious of course. Yet this isn't a big city and people here are generally polite. So things should be much more on a personable level. We have a couple knuckleheads but they seem to have grown up over the past few years through exposure to the outside world. This person is out of the ordinary and deserves a little more grace in time before I excuse myself as quickly as politicly practical.
He places a feather in my hand. Not wanting it to be overtaking by the wind I instantaneously and intuitively put my fingers tightly on around the stem to keep the feather secure from being lost.
He looks down at the feather in my hand and back into my face. (The term into is intentional)
"You dropped this" he says as he rather abruptly and quickly turns around and walks back down the street with a snow cloud swirling behind him.
I glance at the feather for a second, its cold, crisp and fresh. I've only see a few, not even sure of the kind of bird. Looks well taken care of and important. I protest raising the feather into the air in the direction of the man! "Its not mine, I didn't drop it!"
"Yes, you did." I hear in a faint voice with the same upward tone that confused me last time. Almost a whisper really.
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