09/12/2025
A good time on Sunday, thanks to some people I'll probably never meet.
An hour or so away from where we live, there's a place called Terrace Mill. It’s not Banff spectacular, but it’s a pleasant, pretty spot with a river, trees, and an old mill. The town of Terrace has a population of around forty people, and it's a half hour drive or more to any place much bigger.
They've built a grassed amphitheater next to the mill and our clan met there on Sunday for a bluegrass festival.
I’m not sure any of us are huge fans of bluegrass, but none of us had ever attended a Terrace event, and that seemed like a good enough reason to go.
It was a perfect day. Really. Gorgeous weather, a lovely location, highly skilled musicians - not to mention a vendor selling BBQ. We even got to feed baby alpacas.
All of it was made possible by volunteers trying to raise some money to preserve the old mill and provide their neighbors with a little culture.
It's the type of job with no glory. Sure, the chairperson gets to announce the band and get a round of applause, but is that round of applause worth it when you're the person who needs to order the Porta-Potties, set up chairs, and slice the apples for the caramel dip? And don’t forget cleaning up after the alpacas.
It could be that the value of volunteers was on my mind, because on the way to Terrace we'd dropped off a donation at the home of one of the people who is planning the yearly cancer awareness event in our county and I'd just read a Facebook plea for people to help plan next year's All School Reunion.
So much of the work of this world is done by people who aren't getting paid to do it. I imagine that's true everywhere; it's just easier to see in a small place. And there's nothing wrong with that. It just seems kind of a pity that it's so many of the same people doing so much of the work.
One reason for that is the finite number of competent people who exist in the world. I realize setting up the annual Squash Festivities is not the same as running General Motors or pulling off D-Day, but don't underestimate the skill set required to set up a small-town parade or potluck. If you happen to be one of those competent folks, several things are likely to happen. First, everyone is going to be happy to let you keep running things until you drop dead. Next, your name is going to come up over and over when someone has a good idea that seems like a lot of work. Finally, you're going to get a little tired of doing not only your share, but everyone else's.
Because the truth is, while it does take a lot of work to make a place worth living, if the efforts were spread evenly, it wouldn't be too much. But that doesn't happen, it never happens.
If you're sitting in a plastic chair on a pleasant Sunday, maybe you could help out a little next time, and if you're one of the people scurrying around in the background, kudos to you. But when the next good idea comes down the pike and someone calls to offer you the opportunity to lead the focus committee, don't forget that “No.” is a complete sentence.
If more people would help out, and more people were willing to let others shoulder the load, there's a chance we'd all be better off.
Copyright 2025 Brent Olson
