Southwest Sierra #118 – Commentary and a Story

This week, I have a little commentary on the Hope Essays, then I’ll share a story to give us all a break from such serious ponderings.

When I decided to share the Hope Essays, I had no idea how difficult it would be to revisit them. It feels like a bit of a quagmire in certain spots as I try to honor the voice of my youth and temper it with my current perspective. Last week’s essay segment drew a parallel between “Doing what is in the best interest of the whole” and “God’s will.” I want to point out that there is inherent danger in humans, organizations or governments claiming to know “God’s will” and/or “What is in the best interest of the whole.” Seeking is very different than claiming to know and from my perspective it is important to acknowledge the difference and to always remain a seeker. To keep our eyes, ears, minds and hearts open.

Now I am going to share something that happened at a Sixteen to One Mine company picnic in 1997. First, a little background: The Sixteen to One Mine is a traditional underground hardrock gold mine started in Alleghany in 1896. A little over a month after Mom died, in December of 1995, I walked to the mine office to ask for a job. Company President Michael Miller and his assistant Elyse Ludian, were talking as I walked in. I asked if they had any job openings and both of their jaws dropped. “We literally were just saying that we needed to find another person for the office! Can you type?” I was hired on the spot. My first day of work was after the 1996 New Year’s Day Holiday.

At that time, the Sixteen to One was doing well and had about 40 employees. Every summer the mine had an employee picnic at Bullard’s Bar Reservoir. A boat, or boats were rented to take us to a remote beach where a barbecue was set up, and games such as volleyball and frisbee were played. On this particular occasion parasailing was on the itinerary. Miner Britt McDaniel brought his motorboat to tow the parasailers. Everyone who wanted to, got a turn harnessed to the parachute, flying high in the air over the water. The rainbow-colored parachute contrasted beautifully with the perfectly clear, deep blue sky.

When my turn came, I ascended into the air like everyone else. I was enjoying the sensation of flying high above the water when suddenly something to my right caught my eye and I found myself face to face with the pilot of an airplane! We looked at each other in profound shock as he banked the plane away from me. We were close enough to clearly see the expression on each other’s faces, less than 20 feet. I didn’t see how close the wing tip came to me as the plane banked away. It was a firefighting plane that had come to scoop water out of the reservoir for a newly confirmed nearby forest fire.

When I landed in the water and climbed into the boat, I was met by an emotional boat crew and when I got to shore everyone seemed shaken. Because the plane came from behind and was banking away in the blink of an eye, I was spared the terror of witnessing its sudden appearance. Whoever that pilot was, I am thankful for his quick reflexes. Evidently we decided that it was safe now that the pilot was aware of us, because the parasailing continued. The plane returned several times, scooping water from a different area of the reservoir. In those days, forest fires were less common and generally less catastrophic. A different time.