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I am a combat-wounded Vietnam veteran with PTSD. Sears Island was my place of refuge and peace. I was a caregiver for a dear old friend, a Navy veteran and life-long long-hauler as he faded into the deepening folds of Alzheimer’s. He was a very active 69-year-old, which kept me busy because some of his behaviors had become risky. This, as any caregiver knows, goes on 24/7.
But some days his mom, at an equally active 88, came to visit and I took advantage to go for a paddle in my kayak around Sears Island. And I stopped at the southern tip to take a walkabout and enjoy, from the innermost reaches of my traumatized heart to the crown of my troubled head, the wonders that an open, uncluttered, non-commercialized island can yield.
Leave the island be. Don’t pinch pennies and lose a treasure. There are suitable alternatives to the windmill issue right next door. People along the crowded midcoast need at least one place that is open, quiet and surrounded by the glorious waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Leave the island be.
Please, governor.
Charles Kniffen
Lubec