I got to see the ice bridge for the first time. It's the same bridge that people used to walk across to Canada in the old days. It cracked apart in 1912 and three visitors lost their lives. Onlookers watched in horror as the people on the ice chunk kneeled in prayer, before they fell into the icy water below. I've often stopped to read the front page from that day, depicting the horrible incident, which hangs in a Gazette hallway.
Yesterday, the whole park was thawing, for which I am admittedly grateful, but I finally got to see the ice bridge, thanks to Alan Geer.
I'm officially inspired by him. On a whim, he flew here during tax season, alone, because his wife, son and daughter and son-in-law couldn't make the trip. He didn't let anything stand in his way of creating an unforgettable 24-hours for himself. It makes me think about the New Year's resolutions I made to do more of such things — breaking out, chasing joy— all of which are thus far lying flat on my path.
As for Alan, he's coming back. "I'm thinking our family vacation this year might be to Niagara Falls instead of the coast of Maine," he told me. "Niagara Falls is obviously a world class attraction."
Contact Features Editor Michele DeLuca at 282-2311, ext. 2246.