I am a flatlander. My family and I have been coming to The Valley at every opportunity for over 30 years; our daughters grew up skiing at Sugarbush, exploring the Long Trail, chasing candy thrown during the parade. I know not all is perfect here, anywhere; idylls are never that idyllic once the surface is scratched, but The Valley has always been a special place for us, a refuge, home to dear friends, home to many who shared our same interests and values. It is often more home than actual home.
When I learned that the Vice President was visiting The Valley I was amused. Sort of a fish out of water: of all the places he could have chosen he picked one where many would not like him, his positions and those of this administration. Amusement turned to dismay, and dismay turned to a sense of violation. How dare he come here; how dare he flaunt the power of his office in a place which stands to gain little but lose much? Everything I love and cherish about this place (and elsewhere, unfortunately) is imperiled because of many of the policies espoused by the administration; how could he dare to descend upon this place, essentially rubbing salt in our wounds? Violated.
So, it was as I drove towards Waitsfield on Saturday morning, saddened by the presence of the Unliked VP in The Valley, only to be met by what seemed like 1,000 people, signs and flags waving, voices raised as they expressed their dismay towards Vance and his administration. I wasn’t prepared for this, I should have known there would be people there, I’ve been to too many Fourth parades to not know better, but I wasn’t. I drove through town one hand honking, the other, wiping tears from my eyes. I was shocked by how emotional this moment was. Once on the mountain, skiers descended carrying signs in opposition, wearing flags and rainbow-covered scarves. The despair and sense of violation began to dissipate, replaced by hope.
So, thank you, Mr. Vance, for choosing to come to the Mad River Valley. You could have gone to many other places in the United States where your views would be accepted in an echo chamber of comity, and none of us would be the better for it. Instead, you came here to share in all we love and perhaps just one of those signs might register, whether with you or one of your children. Unity with Ukraine, perhaps, tolerance of the LGBT community, why are oligarchs running this country, or how ashamed his grandparents would be. Perhaps the kids will have enjoyed their ski lesson so much that they want to ski more, enjoy snow more – and ask why there is less of it every year.
Perhaps they will have read the sign at Allyn’s Lodge and understand that one person’s passion for the mountains, one person’s caring for others, is to be shared and remembered forever. Perhaps you will have woken early on Saturday and read the Sugarbush snow report, and in Lucy’s post read a beautiful, heartfelt summation of all that is wrong with what you, Mr. Vice President, and the President you support.
Thank you, Mr. Vance,for giving all of us who have lived in quiet despair for these past months a chance to raise our voices, a chance to demonstrate and say this is not OK, this is not what we want or who we are as Americans. We’d rather not have the cause, but had he gone to Texas that silence would continue, and the despair deepen.
And thank you, folks of the Mad River Valley, for raising your voices and reminding me of what makes America great, not just The Valley great. As a country we encourage dialogue, not just with those with whom we agree but also with those with whom we differ. We must always do so. Silence is not a virtue but a disease; it will eat away at the soul of a nation until there is nothing but an empty shell, powerless to effect change, unable to resist, malleable to the whims of those who wield the power.
The risks to America today come in many shapes and forms, some the most significant that we have faced in our history. The voices of concern have been too quiet for these past months, but the lesson I learned on Saturday morning was that there is hope, that these voices will be expressed. They need to be expressed, or they will not be heard, and then who will we have to blame but ourselves. Thank you for your signs, your flags, your showing up. Hopefully those who need to notice will have done so.
Yale Law School, of which Mr. Vance is a graduate, advocates dispassionate consideration of the issues at hand. He can reason, he has been trained to do so. We have seen that he will change his mind – remember what he once called President Trump? – and let’s hope some of the magic of The Valley will influence his thinking in the days ahead.
Chase lives in Wilton, CT.
