Sandpoint of View
Magnetic attraction
By Heather McElwain
S
andpoint is one of those towns where people come, people go, people come back and people leave again. It’s a revolving door of transients: Hometown kids leave for bright lights and the big city, and reappear with dreams of bright futures and big opportunities. Others set off for fresh starts and a faster pace and return for retirement and a simpler lifestyle. I’ve wondered why this area is such a portal for the wayfaring. When I first moved here, I met a few self-proclaimed seers who insisted the area sits amid crystals that vibrate energies, which in turn draw in those who are needed here and propel those who are needed elsewhere. According to them, the local geology created some sort of unique magnetic force field that attracts and repels based on divine placement theory, or some such. Historically, those geological and other resources did indeed attract. Then depletion of those same resources repelled once again. Today, proverbial gold rushes still continue to hasten people to either come or go. The bornand-raised-here often leave to seek education, love and maybe themselves, to heed a call of duty, to explore other cultures, to follow a passion, or just to inhabit an “otherness” for a while. Many return to be closer to family again, to share newfound knowledge with their hometown community, to show old haunts to new loves, or to heal and rejuvenate. After exploring warmer climes and escaping the haze that shrouds us so often, many come back for that singular Northwest pow that blankets the Selkirks, usually after waiting in lift lines elsewhere for shorter runs on hardpack. I currently have several friends who
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have left to learn new skills or to make use of their existing skills where they can more gainfully employ them. One friend left but returned within months – she didn’t find another community like this one in her travels. Some have followed new lucrative prospects in hopes of returning to start their own ventures here. One friend just embarked on a volunteer mission to Ethiopia with the Peace Corps, but she will be back with tales and images to share. Another dear friend recently left for specialized treatment when she wasn’t feeling well and returned to the embrace of her friends and family for her final days. For years, the Clash has rung in my own ear (“Should I stay or should I go now?), yet I have not mustered that first step in any direction away. Something keeps me here: Maybe it’s the reflection of a winter full moon rippling on the big lake, or the alpine glow over the Selkirks while enjoying an après-ski nip. Perhaps it’s just the small-town authenticity. Of course, I cannot rule out the possibility of influence from magnetic crystal
“Origins.” IllustratIon by lucy West bInnall (WWW.lucyWeststudIos.com)
vibrations. While writing this and contemplating these comings and goings, I heard a ghostly sound from the past echo off the lake – the distinct whistle of the Sunnyside Queen, a twin-engine steamboat that used to grace these shores each summer. The Queen’s captain passed away many years ago now, and I didn’t know if I would ever again hear that drawn-out, resonant whistle blow. But there it was, like a beacon signaling the way for others to return. Maybe it will guide our friends and loved ones back this way again. I do think that those Sandpoint diviners were right on at least one thing: The friends who leave probably are needed elsewhere more – at least for a while. And if they feel anything like I do after being away, they’ll be glad to come back.
WINTER 2013
San