ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1997, Roanoke Times
DATE: Wednesday, January 22, 1997 TAG: 9701220016
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: C-1 EDITION: METRO
COLUMN: a cuppa joe
SOURCE: JOE KENNEDY
If I had an audience with the Mill Mountain Development Committee, this is what I'd say:
Don't do it.
Don't propose building a restaurant on top of the valley's best natural attraction.
Don't let the zoo get any bigger.
Don't even think about an aerial tram or anything else that smacks of the carnival or Roanoke at the turn of the century.
Leave Mill Mountain the way it is - with vestiges of previous development and an altogether wild feel. Let parkway tourists come into town for their meals, let tram-lovers go to Gatlinburg, Tenn., and let's be honest: Mill Mountain is the best thing the zoo has going for it. The zoo adds little to the mountain.
I read the story in Sunday's paper about the 10-hour meeting the committee conducted at Ralph Smith's mansion and the many ideas it considered. In fairness, some members did suggest leaving the mountain as it is, or making minimal changes.
But it scared me to read how many of the committee members have ties to business and development and how few to nature and the environment. Two have been involved with the zoo's board. Should they be on the committee, or is that a conflict of interest?
If they belong on the committee, why not Betty Fields, who probably knows the mountain better than anyone, but is decidedly opposed to further development?
Going up to Mill Mountain and taking in the view always lifts my spirits. It does this precisely because it is not highly developed. It enables us to step back from the urban pace and remember the other parts of life - the natural and the spiritual - without which life means nothing.
The Hotel Roanoke doesn't do that for me, nor does the City Market. And the mountain is free.
Let me put it another way
Here is an analogy: I own a truck, nothing fancy, just a plain pickup truck. It's fun to drive, and it's useful: I haul hay, manure and lumber in it, and it always does the job.
Suppose I woke up one day and decided I wanted a Lexus instead.
To get it, I'd refinance the house, sell the cows, cash in the kids' college funds, get advances on the credit cards, maybe even dip into my retirement account.
It would be fun to put the deal together, and for a while, it would be fun to own the car. People would notice me and wonder how I got it, giving me a chance to preen.
Heads would turn when I drove down Campbell Avenue. Who wouldn't enjoy that?
Eventually, though, I'd grow dissatisfied. A Lexus would require more expensive upkeep than my truck. I'd hesitate to park it in a public lot, lest someone give it a ding. I'd worry about somebody stealing it. I'd soon become tired of that.
Then warm weather would return, and I'd want to carry manure to the garden or gather hay from the field. But I wouldn't have any manure, or need the hay, because I'd sold the cows.
And I wouldn't have the truck. I sold it to buy the car.
That's when I'd realize what the Lexus actually cost.
Mountain belongs to all of us
Businessman Ralph Smith had the most telling quote in Sunday's story. Speaking in favor of building a restaurant or other attraction, he said, "I don't want a skyscraper on top of it, but I want to be able to come and use it."
Roanoke has lots of places where we can eat. But how many are there where we can hike, bike, bird-watch, meditate and gaze down on the valley?
How many cities anywhere can boast of such a thing? And how can anyone consider changing it?
The mountain belongs to all of us.
Please, leave it alone.
What's your story? Call me at 981-3256, send e-mail to kenn@roanoke.infi.net or write to P.O. Box 2491, Roanoke 24010.
LENGTH: Medium: 81 linesby CNB