What We Honor
In the seasonal round of things, this is the time each year we try and honor the memory of those who’ve given their lives to protect this vision of a country we all hold inside and we all as Americans cherish. A few weeks ago, my wife and I took our kids to the bridge at Concord, Mass, where four hundred farmers, tradesmen and indentured servants once stood against the greatest military in the world and chased them 18 miles to the safety of their ships in Boston harbor. No small engagement but a bloody and protracted battle, it was the beginning of a nation based on the idea that people have rights and rights are worth protecting. Our democracy was born in heroism and sacrifice and for much of twelve generations has been sustained by it. This history is a sacred trust that needs to be maintained. This weekend, we hope people will come out for Monday morning’s gatherings of remembrance in Phoenicia, West Shokan and elsewhere in our region.
In 240 years, some things have changed. They’re changing quickly now with winter behind us, and the dandelions sometimes growing five inches in a day. To those who spent previous seasons elsewhere and away from these mountains, welcome back to our community. You’re as much a part of things here as anyone else and most of us understand you’d probably be here far more if you could.
But whether we’ve been right here or somewhere else, we all tend to think of our beloved mountain landscapes as something eternal and unchanging; They are that of course, but most of us are also coming to see that at the same time they’re also surprisingly delicate and fragile. Our major waterway is threatened by a bizarre, invasive algae that can choke out all aquatic life and for which there is no fix, just an unknown time frame. Many of us know places where three and four years ago, the gypsy moths and tent caterpillars left whole standing forests dead and bare. Our single most important tree species, the sugar maples, are dying by the hundreds of thousands from acid rain and from insects marching north on warm winds and shorter winters while other species - black birch, oak, hemlock, even ash trees - aren’t far behind the maples. The great Catskill forest is changing and not just in our lifetime but from one year and even from one season to the next. What’s to follow in time, no one really knows.
We don’t speak of these things to depress people but to remind everyone to look hard and carefully as they take things in. Yes, the magic of the Catskills is still here, but how it will survive future changes and all that comes with them over the coming generations, no one can really say. We share the forest and the waters as part of our collective experience but we also share the human environment, the community we create and recreate every day. Like every community we may be imperfect in our acceptance of one another but on balance we think that our communal life and institutions, and our recognition of the reality of our interdependence with one another are both trending positive. We see this primarily in a growing regional awareness that may hold the key to an increasingly collaborative and regional approach to problem solving here. And while we all still share justified anxieties about our national and regional economic prospects, we also think there are efficiencies and opportunities that our economic challenges may force us to consider that might ultimately serve us well. We need to stay open to such ideas because we can’t afford not to be open to them. And protecting our future isn’t some townwide or local issue, but something only a wider sense of community can accomplish.
In one of these pre-Memorial Day essays a few years back, I proposed we should include amongst those we honor at this time, the veterans of all of our nation’s long struggles for liberty and justice that have made America what it is. Those who fought for these values and our collective civil rights over the past century - from women’s and voting rights to organized labor and for racial justice and economic fairness, they deserve a place and a day of honor. They are patriots as much as those who served at Concord, Normandy, or Khe San, and their love of their country and the sacrifices they made compel us to see them that way.
We wish everyone a great beginning of summer. Let’s take it easy on the roads, slow things down where we can, and keep an eye out for each other.
BP

What We Don’t Honor
A key news story in everyone’s mind these days involves allegations against the county jail and our last two sheriffs, with four correctional facility employees having stepped out into public to charge sexual harassment from their peers and, more troubling, from our county’s chief law enforcement institution for failing to curb a long hstory of bad “jokes,” insulting behavior, and basic intolerance. The first answer from Sheriff Paul Van Blarcum on the issue was that it was warrantless and all charges would be fought. We feel this was wrong, and failed to honor the bravery of those who came forth with their charges. Any time an institution is charged with discriminatory behavior and, worse, sexual harassment and psychological cruelty, those charges must be treated seriously. If there’s any hint of such a culture in our prisons, not the sweetest place to work but one where our ideals have to be at their strongest, those in charge must rise to the occasion and vow to rid their host of such disease. We hope that instead of simply fighting charges brought against them, our county’s peace officers will work full-heartedly to ensure they are not true, and will never come again. Just as we hope the same for our Central Intelligence Agency.
PS