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From the looks of it, he tucked his shirt into his khakis, and instead of work boots, he’s wearing brown dress shoes. This guy is hot no matter what he’s wearing, making it almost impossible to focus on anything else, including this meeting. I look at the seat between us and am thankful for the distance. I would’ve had a difficult time keeping my hands to myself.
Next to them, I recognize Janice, Ryan’s mom, from Stable Farm with a man I assume is her husband. An elderly man and two women sit next to the Stables, which has to be Ted Folger and his wife from Bear Mountain Road, and then Mary, the widow I’m told is taking the deal. Sitting on the opposite side of me is a young couple Jackson met the other day. He said the wife’s name is Katie, but I can’t recall the husband’s name. As I scan the aisle, everyone glances my way, and they either wave or nod in my direction.
I secretly wish I were at the other end of the aisle near the Christiansons, but I guess that’s what happens when you walk in late. Another reserved sign hangs in the row in front of us, and the seats are still empty.
There’s a commotion onstage as the town council members walk up the side steps and select their seats. One man in the group hangs back at the top of the stairs as Mr. Ford and Mr. Hogan enter the room via the side door. As if a fire alarm sounds, everyone goes silent and stares at the two men. The energy in the room shifts, the tension suffocating.
The two executives stare straight ahead, never once looking at the residents, and confidently strut to the front row. They keep their eyes trained on their seats and don’t give any indication of concern. They swagger through the row and sit directly in front of the Christiansons. Both men are in tailored suits that fit as perfectly as one would expect.
While Mr. Hogan is a bit rougher around the edges and not so easy on the eyes, Mr. Ford makes up for it. I can tell Mr. Ford is the type who leads with his looks. His body fills his suit well. He’s muscular and tall, and it’s obvious he’s meticulous about his grooming. He sits with his right ankle resting on his left thigh and hangs his left elbow on the folding chair next to him.
Mr. Hogan leans to whisper in Nick’s ear, causing him to turn around and look at Earl. They are too far away for me to make out what Nick says to Jackson’s grandfather. Earl responds to whatever he says with a firm handshake. Then Nick turns to the left and looks directly at Shannon and again says something I can’t hear. Shannon smiles nervously in return and looks directly at Jackson, who’s readying missiles and shooting directly at Nick.
Nick maintains his cocky smile and returns to face the stage. This guy is a piece of work. I can only imagine how pissed Jackson must be. I’ve never witnessed Jackson angry, but I sense the temperature rising inside him from my seat despite the distance between us. I share in his anger and want more than anything for this to be over. Not only is Jackson fighting for his family’s land, he’s sitting among a family divided. I hope for Jackson’s sake his grandfather hasn’t made a final decision yet. If he decides to take the deal, Jackson will be crushed.
“I call this meeting to order.” A man stands behind the podium who I assume is the council president, Sal Morgan. I’ve never met him, but Gerry mentioned him once or twice. He’s been around forever, a Meriden favorite. “We have a lot on today’s agenda, so let’s get started.”
Mr. Morgan clears his throat and adjusts the volume on the microphone. A piercing shriek emanates from the sound system; the crowd groans and people cover their ears.
“My apologies, folks. The first order of business is public comment. Each person will be called from the list generated. Because of the size of the crowd, we will limit the speakers’ comments to three minutes. I will notify you when your time has ended. Understood? Great.”
People shift in their seats, and everyone is glued to our row. Talk about not being able to blend in.
Janice Stable is the first to speak. She walks tall and holds her head high as she approaches the podium. She faces the stage, states her name and address, and is told to continue. She clears her throat and places her arms by her side. I am nervous for her but relieved she’s going first.
“I was born and raised in this town. My parents founded Stable Farm, and my family still runs it to this day. We will not be signing any kind of agreement with Green Breeze today or any day. While I understand that our collective future will require innovation to meet the growing demand for energy solutions, including from wind-powered turbines, Meriden is not the place to do this. I suggest this company find another town to smother because the people of Meriden will not stand for it.” Her voice is strong and confident to the very end. She even goes so far as to stamp her right foot on the floor before she turns on her heel and hurries back to her seat.
Ted Folger is next. I step out of the row to allow him enough space to move through the aisle and head to the microphone. He is steady but slow. “Ladies and gentlemen of the Meriden town council, I’ve lived in Meriden longer than any of you council members have walked the earth. People stay here for a reason. There aren’t many places that compare. Over my dead body will your turbines cross town lines.” He turns his attention toward the two men in the front row. “Pack it up because I’m not planning on going anywhere anytime soon.” The crowd cheers in response.
Jackson’s turn. I hold my breath and watch his every step. How is it that a little more than a month ago, I didn’t even know this man existed but now I have an irresistible urge to stand by his side? He has shown me how pure his intentions are, and I know how badly he wants this deal to fall through. It breaks me he’s leaving a place he is fiercely trying to save.
I look at Earl and Sylvia as Jackson states his name and address and notice their hands gripping each other’s tight.
“My family’s orchard has been here for over a century. I, like most of the people here today, stand firmly against the development of wind farms in Meriden. We are the protectors of this land, and allowing this company to come in here and destroy it is completely unacceptable. I’ve done my research, gentlemen.” Jackson now turns and searches the front row. “I’ve done my due diligence researching your company. You walk into our little town and promise the world to my family and five of my neighbors. You spout about the financial benefits, how you’ll protect the wildlife, how this will bring business to the area, and so on. Well, guess what, folks? This company, which now calls itself Green Breeze Enterprises, was once Wind Incorporated. And before that, it was something else. In fact, this is the fourth company name they are working under because the other three have gone bankrupt.
“I’m sure you have a bullshit story about why and how that isn’t your fault, but I’d love to ask the residents of Stonehill what their opinion is. That’s right, folks. For those of you who aren’t familiar, Stonehill is two hours north of here. This company, under the name Wind Incorporated, successfully secured properties up there to do exactly what they have proposed here.
“And guess what? It seems their plan flopped and those metal monsters sit abandoned on those properties. They leased people’s land, destroyed it, and left town. Is this what we want happening here?”
“Mr. Christianson, your time has ended.”
Jackson shakes his head in disgust, but stops and returns to his seat, not without sending a smile my way. I’m filled with pride—he handled himself like a pro. No matter what his grandparents decide, they have to be proud.
Lost in my thoughts of Jackson and I against the rock at Sculptured Falls, I flinch when my name is called.
My entire body shakes as I walk to the podium. I count to three and take a deep breath, but my chest pounds uncontrollably and the thumping reaches my ears.
“Many of you may not know me, but my name is Solia Anderson. I spent my summers as a child in Meriden. Recently, I made the big decision to move here full time and settle into my family’s cabin. For the same reasons many of you have mentioned, I fell in love with this place a long time ago. This small town clings to your soul and leaves its imprint. My cabin is my home. There is nothing that would destroy my peace and that of the wilderness more than this proposed wind farm. This company says they will do everything in their power to protect our wildlife. These are empty words. There is absolutely nothing they can tell me that will convince me they can provide any protection. They are here for one reason only: financial gain.
“Once those turbines are installed, they won’t be taken out. For those of you who may not be familiar with the termshadow flicker, you need to research this. Green Breeze knows there is nothing they can do to avoid the effects of a shadow flicker. This is produced by wind turbines and can endanger wildlife in the area but is also associated with nausea, vertigo, and headaches in people living in proximity to the turbines. I will not be signing any kind of agreement with Green Breeze, and I urge each property owner to do the same.”
When I finish, I am overwhelmed with relief. I’m not sure anyone understood what I said because I couldn’t even hear myself over the waves of nerves crashing through my body. However, as I return to my seat, I hear clapping, and a few residents shout words of support.
I look over and see Jackson gazing directly at me with a huge smile on his face. He winks and returns his stare to the stage.
I guess I did OK.
I become lost in my thoughts as resident after resident take the microphone. Everyone speaks out against the proposed deal. There must be some who sit on the other side of the fence, but maybe they are nervous to voice their opposition, given the sentiment of the crowd. It doesn’t go unnoticed two of the property owners sitting among us did not say a word the entire time.
