At yesterday’s memorial service for Tom Buechner, former congressman and head of Corning, Inc Amory Houghton was one of the speakers who stood before the large crowd under the spectacular Tiffany stained-glass windows of the Christ Episcopal Church in Corning and told stories about the man. At one point, Houghton said that while Tom was a brilliant man (he had , after all, been chosen by the Houghtons to start the Corning Museum of Glass in 1950 at the tender age of 23) he sometimes came up with “nutty ideas“. He then cited the stained glass bridge that I mentioned in yesterday’s post as an example, almost harumphing as he finished as if to say, “How crazy is that?”
Viewpoints From the Chasm
June 27, 2010 by redtreetimes
Cheri and I exchanged sideways glances and to the crowd’s credit, very few seemed to share the humor Amo seemed to find in it.
“Nutty idea“?
Big? Yes. Risky? Sure. Difficult? Of course. Expensive? Positively. Impractical? Maybe…
But at the same time, it is an idea that is forward-thinking on a grand scale, filled with the possibility of returns for the community and company that dwarf the initial risk. Visionary, yes. Nutty? Hardly.
And therein sits the division between those who see possibility and those who see impossibility. It’s a very narrow chasm often leaving two people seemingly standing next to one another, close enough to touch. But between them is a gaping ravine deep enough to deter crossing. The believer in possibility stands on one side and tries to convince the denier of possibility that all he must do is to dare to lift his foot and simply step across to the other side. Though not so far away, the view is so much different from this side!
Maybe this difference of views is the same that separates us all. Deep chasms we dare not cross, formed by our fears and the thoughts of what can’t be done rather than what can. I read an interesting editorial the other day where the writer talked about this moment in time in our country versus the time after World War II. At that time, our national debt was 120% of our GDP as opposed to the nearly 90% now. The highest income tax rates hovered at 90%, shockingly higher than today. Unemployment was soaring as the masses of troops returned to the civilian ranks. We were staggering and teetering after a decade of the Great Depression and a costly war. Yet, as the writer of the editorial pointed out, there was a positivism then that is virtually absent now. We had persevered the worst in the Depression and came out victorious in the War and we had come out the other side with an atitude that we could get anything done if we set our will to it. We embarked on two huge and costly efforts despite staggering costs- the Marshall Plan to rebuild war-ravaged Europe and the GI Bill that rewarded our troops for their selfless sacrifice with a chance at a higher education and low-cost housing, one of the largest entitlement programs in our history and one that set the table for the growth of the middle class in the 1950’s.
Today, that positivism is nowhere to be found in the general populace. Gone is the roll-up-your-sleeves attitude. We have become afraid to move forward, preferring to stand in the present and not step across the chasm of possibility to a future that moves forward. We have fallen prey to fear and negativity and nothing good, absolutely nothing, can come of this attitude.
So, maybe hearing “nutty idea” spoke to more than a little museum on a little bridge in a little city in a rural county in upstate New York for me. Maybe it spoke to the symptoms and causes of what ails us as a nation– the differing viewpoints of those who look on the same thing and see two vastly different versions. A chasm between possibility and impossibility.
I’m not sure the proposal for a stained-glass bridge wasn’t “nutty” but it’s less nutty than questioning an artist’s vision during his memorial. What’s up with that, Amo?
Certainly something like a band of reflective glass on either side of the bridge seems plausible. Donations could be accepted for individual glass tiles and the community could watch as, over time, the tiles spanned the river.
Perhaps a place to start is a petition drive to rename the Centerway Bridge the Thomas S. Buechner Memorial Bridge. As it happens, his birthday, September 25, falls on a Saturday this year. How about a “Buechner Bridge Day” celebration with local artists displaying their work?
Actually, there is aa movement underway to renovate the bridge with new walkways and plantings and the idea has been raised of naming the bridge for Buechner.
I also like the Buechner Bridge Day idea. I will pass it on…
I haven’t read your previous post yet. I need to do that to put this in context and better understand the issues of art being addressed.
But your larger point is being lived out on the Gulf Coast on a daily basis.
On one side, we have BP and the government, making daily pronouncements about how much they are doing to clean up the mess, while doing virtually nothing. Those of us who have contacts in the vessel of opportunity fleet, on the ships clustered around the well site and trying to navigate the process for reimbursement don’t even read the press releases any longer.
On the other hand, there are the people who know that if only the bureaucracy would get out of their way, they could work far more effectively. There are plenty of people who have that positive attitude – but when they roll up their sleeves, they’re told “Don’t bother. We’re not going to let you do anything”.
I don’t pretend to know the reasons, but an increasing number of people here believe that someone has a serious stake in maintaining the crisis in the Gulf as long as possible. (NB: I do not include the geologists and engineers and ROV operators and such in this criticism. The people trying to shut down the well are doing yeoman’s work, and have my full admiration.)
The people I know who are directly affected by this mess are more than willing to step across that chasm, but they are being told to stand still. One of these days, they’re going to stop obeying orders. I haven’t a clue what that’s going to look like, but it’s going to be interesting.
Yes, there does seem to be a desire to keep people caught at the edge of the chasm, bound in fear. To what purpose, I have no idea. Your last paragraph sums it up well. It will be interesting, that’s for sure. But you’re right about the response in the Gulf as a perfect opportunity for us to come together and unite to clean up and protect our shores and wetlands. Truly treat it as we treated WW II with full concerted effort, not some sort of Blackwater style effort where we, the people, are not privy to what is really happening.