This letter references Meg Haskell’s 10-25-07 article, “Plum Creek looks to Bangor for project supporters.”
I can imagine the scene in 1626. A well-heeled developer “from away” invites a hand-picked group of influential tribal leaders to a little do: a nice meal, a little firewater, whatever might have passed for a Powerpoint presentation in those days, and $24.00 worth of costume jewelry. Maybe the Dutch promised to leave certain areas intact — hunting and fishing areas, burial grounds, sacred places. Maybe they promised increased trade opportunities for the impoverished tribes in that area. We’ll never know anything about the deliberative processes involved, but we know for sure what happened to the wilderness around Manhattan. And we also know how things turned out for the natives.
Fast-forward to the evening of October 23, 2007. A well-heeled developer “from away” invites a hand-picked group of influential area business leaders to a little do: a nice meal, a little cabernet sauvignon — you get the picture. The costume jewelery is pricier this time around but no less tawdry. They promise to leave certain areas intact. They promise increased trade opportunities. Sounding familiar?
Moosehead Lake is Plum Creek’s own little “Manhattan Project.” No matter how they try to spin it, they are in it for the money. To them, the Moosehead region — one of the most pristine and spectacular wilderness areas left in this country — is a revenue stream.
It’s amazing how little human nature has changed in the past 381 years.