Volume CXXXIII, Number 5 October 12, 2001 f

Fight for the small pleasures
TODD BUELL

September 11 provided one more striking example of the role that cataclysmic events play in unifying a nation and defining the priorities of its citizens. The New York Times recently ran a story describing how New York City residents are using this tragedy as a way to rebuild lost friendships or romances. For them the national need for solace is the best healer. For me the attacks of September 11th were a chance to reaffirm what is important in my life: church, family, friends, and an Edenic setting in which to enjoy them. My feelings toward these priorities have confirmed my belief that the military response this weekend in Afghanistan was an appropriate action.

I live on Mount Desert Island. Historically the island was a vacation area that local Indian tribes used as an escape from the summer heat and humidity of central Maine. By the 1880s Bar Harbor was contesting Newport, Rhode Island, as the most popular seaside getaway for wealthy families from Philadelphia, New York, and Boston. Their impressive summer mansions still dot many island properties. One famous family, the Rockefellers, donated much of their land to the federal government and established the area as Acadia National Park. Today, the park encompasses nearly half of the island's acreage and is one of the ten most often visited National Parks in the country.

Yet it wasn't until last spring that I truly appreciated the island and park's beauty, charm, and mystique. Until then, the startling sunsets, thick forests, and fantastic foliage were just nice to glance at while driving to school or to ballgames. I never had the urge to drive to the top of Cadillac Mountain to see a sunrise or sunset. The thought of actually climbing up some of the smaller mountains or challenging my fear of heights never crossed my mind. Then last spring, accompanied by a number of my Quinby House friends, I "lived" my island. I went to more tourist attractions and did more difficult hikes in a period of twenty-four hours than I had probably done in fifteen years. I discovered that perhaps the most beautiful and meditative place in the world is on top of Bubble Mountain, which is flanked by two larger mountains with the quaint Jordan Pond resting in the valley.

It was while sitting at this summit and reflecting on the tragedies of September 11 that I came to the final determination that the strikes we had begun that morning were the correct course of action. Earlier that morning, we had gone to the top of Cadillac Mountain to view the sunrise. Seeing Bar Harbor, the water, and any spectacular sky show is beautiful from the top of Cadillac, but it also suggests a sobering comparison. It is roughly the same height as the World Trade Towers were. When I stood at its summit, I couldn't help but think of the innocent men and women who were forced to choose whether to fall to their deaths or jump to a hopeless fate. Bubble Mountain was a quiet respite for me to look around at how all sorts of people were appreciating the trees, the sunlight, the foliage, and all of the natural wonders of God's great earth. It was then that I knew that our war is just. Osama Bin Laden and those who planned the September 11th attacks wanted to destroy everything that our country holds dear. This was not just an attack on Christianity, our support for Israel, capitalism, and everything else people have been saying. It was an attack on "our way of life:" the Grand Canyon, the community theater, Little League Baseball, and everything in between.

September 11th was an assault on the small, humble, but deeply meaningful activities that unite us as humans and as Americans. For me and my friends, one of these activities is enjoying the serenity of a national park. An attack on American soil threatens our ability to appreciate this petite bonheure. The Taliban destroyed ancient Buddhist statues, just think what it would do to Mount Rushmore if given the chance. I implore us never to let it get the chance.

I challenge us each to find our own World Trade Tower; something that we would die to save. For me it is the ethereal satisfaction of the light breeze touching my face, the smooth ebb and flow of the ocean, and the camaraderie of my friends and family around me.

I would die before I would let Osama Bin Laden take that away from me.