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The older gentleman I spotted earlier approaches Gerry from a seat behind him. “Folks, I am getting carried away. I’ve been planning what to say for weeks, but after seeing how many of you turned out today, I got a little ahead of myself. My apologies, Mike. This is my good friend, Mike Kelley. You old-timers like me will remember the days people feared this shark in a courtroom. Well, word traveled about Green Breeze and what they are trying to do to Meriden, and he wants to help. He’s lived here his whole life, and, well, let me allow him to speak for himself.” Gerry gestures toward the podium, backing up as Mike steps forward.
“Thanks, old buddy. Hello, everyone. Gerry is correct. There isn’t anything I thought could drag me out of retirement until I heard this windblown bullshit.”
“Hell yeah!” a younger resident yells.
“That’s right, my friend. Roots run deep in these parts, and we don’t want our land turned into a metal-monster factory. To my knowledge, six property owners were mailed letters from this green energy company. It’s the company’s understanding these key properties are the most advantageous for them to buy or lease to generate the electricity they are seeking. I’m going to assume many of you attended the town hall meeting where they listed the benefits of green energy and wind turbines. Regardless of how strongly you oppose this project, it’ll be a fight.
“As of today, it’s my understanding we have four property owners in obvious objection to the project, one very much undecided, and one, unfortunately, is leaning toward accepting the Green Breeze deal as it will be in the best interests of their family. What we will not do, folks, is turn on each other. This will not become a battle of property owners. I’ll support those four owners and their commitment to save their land. I cannot represent the owners who are considering the deal, but I ask you to respect your fellow neighbors and trust they’re doing what they believe is right for their families. We’ll work together with what we can control.
“After speaking with Gerry, most of us aren’t interested in hearing any more about this deal. You all just want them to keep their hands off your land. And it’s also my understanding you want Meriden to stay untouched and beautiful. I’m with you on that, and I’m here to help make that happen.”
The room erupts with applause.
Mike waits, hands raised to quiet the crowd. “So, here is what I need you to do.” He clears his throat, and the room seems to sit on the edge of their seats. “I need everyone willing to speak during the public comment section to write up a few talking points beforehand and be confident with what you’re going to say. We don’t want yelling or obscenities—we want to be professional, to make it clear why we don’t want this company coming into Meriden. Also, there is strength in numbers. Talk to your family, your friends, your neighbors, anyone who will listen and see if they will come to support us at the town council meeting on Tuesday at four p.m.
“I’ll be working on the legal side of things in the meantime. For those of you who received the first round of letters, I’ll be in contact in the coming weeks. If there is anything I should be informed of regarding your property specifically, please contact me. I’ll run a property search on each parcel, but the more information I have collected, the better. We want to find as many reasons as possible to send this company packing.
“When Gerry wraps up today, I’ll walk around with my card for those who received the letter and anyone else who has questions for me. Be sure you don’t leave without it. Let’s stay positive, folks. We are stronger together than we would ever be apart.”
“Right on!” says a man from somewhere in the crowd.
The energy in the room shifts from angry to hopeful. Mr. Kelley seems to be the real deal, a guy we can depend on. I’m so thankful Gerry was able to organize this.
Gerry is back behind the podium. “Thanks, Mike. I can speak for all of us when I say we are extremely grateful for your time and expertise. While many of us love Meriden, we don’t have a clue how to interpret the legality or the land rights involved in these types of situations. So, thank you for being here.” He turns around and gives Mike a nod. It’s clear they have years of memories and experiences between them from growing up on the land.
“Besides giving Mike anything and everything you find or learn relevant to your property in the coming weeks, I hope you’ll stay and make signs to post around town and outside the meeting. Everyone should arrive around five to protest outside next week’s meeting. Nothing crazy, totally civil, a show of support for the landowners who oppose the proposed wind project. We can hold signs and people may stop and ask questions, but the point is to state our presence and make it clear that we will not let this company come here and ruin our small town. So, let’s make some signs and get the word out, folks.” Applause, hooting, and hollering follow as Gerry steps away.
I stand a little taller, clap feverishly, and eat up the enthusiasm Gerry conjures from the crowd. I’m so thankful for Mike’s time and talent, and most of all for the community support. Tears sting the corner of my eyes. I grab a tissue from my pocket and spot a pair of work boots I wouldn’t forget anywhere.
I look and find myself in a soundproof space. I’m not sure how long we stand frozen, but our trance is broken when I hear footsteps walking up behind Jackson. Having no luck locating a tissue, I quickly wipe my face with my palms. I sense the worry in Jackson’s expression and try to reassure him with a smile and a slight tilt of my head.
“Guys, that was amazing. I can’t believe how many people are here!” I say to Gerry and Mr. Kelley, sneaking another glance at Jackson. “Hi, Gerry. Mr. Kelley, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Solia Anderson.”
“Ah, Ms. Anderson of the Anderson cabin. The pleasure is mine. I hear you returned to the family cabin with the intent to make this your permanent home.”
“Yes, sir, I sure have. I never would’ve imagined this as one of the hurdles I’d have to jump, though.”
“We can agree on that. I’ll do my best to help Meriden stay as it should. I’m going to bet no one ever told you this, but I was a friend of your grandparents some time ago. They were good people, but I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that.”
“No, sir, you don’t. No one better than them. It would devastate them to know that a wind farm might surround the cabin, so whatever you can do to help eliminate that threat, I am so thankful.”
“You bet, Solia. Here’s my card. Call me if you need or think of anything.” He and Gerry turn to walk away, leaving Jackson and me alone.
Just as Jackson and I look at each other, Gerry turns back around and says, “Sorry, Solia—any luck with that showerhead?” He winks and off he goes.
Are you serious, Gerry? This guy doesn’t miss a beat.
I can’t help but laugh and smile in response. This old man knows exactly what he’s doing.
Jackson leans toward me, so close I inhale his intoxicating scent. As the noise seems to grow louder, he leans in. “Do you need help with something?”
“The outdoor showerhead is acting up. Nothing urgent. I’m sure I can figure it out. That’s what Google is for.” I am breathless trying to articulate a complete sentence while standing next to Jackson.
“Let me help, seriously. It’ll take me ten minutes. Honestly, it’s no bother. Maybe I can swing by later in the week before the town council meeting.” He flashes white teeth as he flips his freshly washed hair out of his dreamy eyes.
I can fix the damn showerhead myself, but watching him fix it would be a hell of a lot more enjoyable. “If you don’t mind, that would be awesome.” I stare at him and hope he’ll come soon.
“Sure thing.”
