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| Resurrection - Neil McBride |
Recently, Thom and I vacationed in Maine. To just relate the places we visited and beauty we encountered would do this corner of our country a supreme injustice. Maine is to be experienced…savored. Sometimes you just have to put the camera down and take it all in.
We only had a week, but were able to pack in so much; from Thunder Hole and Schoodic Point, from Bass Harbor and Jordan Pond. You find yourself seeking photographic excellence while immersed in lupine fields that arise with untold regularity or surrounded by beach roses that chose this year to blossom in abundance. Beauty is everywhere…in lighthouses, black dikes, tidal pools, pink granite formations, and windswept pines. At every turn you can see the fingerprints of God.
Rising before dawn, we trekked to the top of Cadillac Mountain, where we witnessed the beginning of the day in America. Our vantage point provided the first glimpse of the sun, as it graces the continent. Wind and cold were ignored while pink, mauve, and gold striations rose from the sea.
Fifteen hours a day, the sun graced our presence. Sunglasses at 5am proved a challenge to my nocturnal predilection.
Granted this trip including the familiar, lots of shopping and eating and touristy bits, but more often included encounters with nature, even bouts with the ethereal. In the distance a loon call is heard then you spot it on the water. Elusive as Nessie. Sidle to close and it dives to a farther shore. Get lucky with the telephoto lens and you capture the blood red eyes, revealing a bird from another more primal world.
You may not know this, but Maine eats the most ice cream per capita in the United States. Having sampled a coupled of the home-crafted flavors I can attest to why. Savoring ice cream made with Bailey's was a treat. One flavor I did pass on was Lobster. Sorry folks, but I like my lobster steaming hot from a pot and ready to be cracked open and dipped in buttah.
Most fortunate of all was having Thom as a tour guide. Not only did he own a B & B in Bar Harbor, but also vacationed there for many years. Nearly a quarter century of experience gave me insight to favored places. Of course, knowing the area also came in handy for our selection of when to go for the best in weather and relative lack of tourists.
Will I return?
Most definitely. If times we different, I would move there or to its sister area of the country, the Pacific Northwest. Give me the slower pace of life. Forgo the city. I would gladly trade concrete and glass for trees and topography.
I've heard today that the high school I attended back in Chicago is on the verge of having to close. The school has been in operation for just over 100 years. As distressing as this is to some, I find myself conflicted. More than thirty years have passed since I last walked the hallowed halls, passed the statue of Martin Luther en route to a class, or cheered on the Wildcats at a football or basketball game. For all intents and purposes, this has been a lifetime ago. I'm not an active alumni, having left Chicago for good in 1995. I married my high school sweetheart, got divorced and had no children to carry on the tradition of attending this school nestled into a quiet neighborhood on the north side of Chicago.
Financial difficulties are not uncommon in this day and age. And, I understand that LHSN faces a $1.8 million dollar shortfall with creditors coming due in June.
What does shock me is that once a vibrant parochial school with an average of 1300 students when I attended, now finds itself barely able to foster an enrollment of 300. I can't help but wonder how enrollment could have declined so much; whether it be the rising tuition costs that may have outpriced the common family; a lessening in the quality of education; or losing the support and encouragement of the Lutheran community at large.
It seems that the issues are more than just the amount owed. Without firsthand knowledge I cannot know if the education in this Christian setting is doing its best to prepare students to move forward with their education and be accepted into the best colleges and universities. There is a drive on now from many of those I went to school with to save Luther North. Even though my father went to its predecessor, Luther Institute, and my brothers and I attended four years each, I don't feel an overriding personal connection that would impel me to help save the school; too many unknowns, too many years past.
My memories are alive…making crepe paper flowers to decorate homecoming floats, dissecting frogs in biology, acting on stage for the first time in Moliere's Imaginary Invalid, singing in choirs and traveling around with the elite Luther Singers. I cherish the memories and if Luther High School North should discontinue its existence after the many years, the memories will always be there for me.
