A Plea for our way of life

Dear Governor Sanders,

You will probably never read this,or know who I am...regardless of the reassurance your office gives that you read and listen to your citizens- and yet today you turned the lives upside down of so many people you have never even met.

The prison you announced will be a platform you no doubt will shout loudly from- jobs, money, booming economy- I can only imagine the dreams and promises that have been fed to you by your advisors. Important people in your life.

Let me take just one minute of your valuable time to tell you about the important people in MY life- my parents- they have worked for sixty plus years- blood, sweat and tears- sacrificing things that you probably take for granted every day- to leave our family a legacy on Millcreek Mountain. A legacy you reduced to ashes in one day. Not only will our property values be nothing now, but more importantly, our lifelong sanctuary is gone. It brings tears to my eyes just writing those words.

My Dad is 82 years old. He's spent his life quietly. I'm sure you've never heard his name. Raising a family, working in all kinds of weather, attending church faithfully, contributing to the community around him, and supporting the political party YOU represent. All the while he worked daylight to dark to slowly add small parcels, one at a time, of land until he's finally built a good-sized spread. We've heard all our lives about the value of it. We've been raised to respect it.

Four generations of my family live on Millcreek Mountain. We eat the food we grow. We leave the land better than we found it. It's a living thing. A thing we love. My parents, my brother, my kids, my grandchildren. Yesterday, it was all our dream. Our destiny. Our inheritance. A beautiful sanctuary. A place of safety and security for our grandchildren. The place we gather to love each other. Today you took that away, with a simple and quick political and financial decision.

We aren't politicians. But we've served in the military, served in public offices, owned businesses, worked, prayed, rejoiced and suffered- all on Millcreek Mountain. Just simple hardworking people building something together. One thing our family hasn't had the need for is a prison. But looks like one is about to become the center of our lives. No matter what we want or need.

That is what you took from us. Our dream. Our goals. My Dad's lifelong work. Our Home. And we never even had a voice in the decision. Is this still America?

I wish I could have walked the land with you, or maybe ridden it on horseback, talked to you woman to woman, told you about growing up there. I wish I could have heard your side of the story. I wish we could have discussed the pros and cons. Shouldn't that be the way it works when we are the people most affected?

I wish you could have met my Dad. He is something special. He doesn't deserve this. Do you have parents? A home? Grandchildren? Maybe you can put yourself in my shoes for just one moment of your busy day.

We haven't slept. We haven't eaten. We are literally sick. And helpless in the face of a decision from someone we never even knew and yet, somehow, trusted. We have been betrayed in the biggest way I've ever imagined in my fifty-five years here on earth.

I personally know of so many properties that are truly remote. Some already state owned. Properties that would be so much more appropriate and not next to people's homes. You didn't do your homework. Now you will live with that every day. I hope you think about us when you lay down at night, when you gather during the holidays with your family, when you are alone. Because I'm not going away.

I know the need for prisons. I know the issues you face. But it could have been done in such a different way. I'm afraid you have created thousands of enemies here without even knowing what you have done. You should have asked us. You should have used your manners. You should have done it the country way. You should have understood. This is our home. Our community is a sacred place. Invaded. Of course we want to fight. We weren't given a chance.

You will hide behind the money, the job, the advisors, the self-importance. And I am just an unimportant stranger that you will never have to bother with. You are too isolated to have to talk to real people these days. You get to skip the hard parts.

But still, I wanted you to know that you destroyed real people today. A real family who believed in God, Country, Family and yes, even still to a certain degree, our government.

My grandchildren will now grow up surrounded by prison land. They won't get to build forts in the woods, camp on the mountain or be turned loose all day to daydream on a horse. Don't be mistaken. Don't be convinced otherwise by your advisors. Because THAT is what you took from us.

I listened to you today saying you were protecting us by keeping criminals off the street. The irony is that we haven't had many criminals around. Now we certainly will. Right next door.

It's all gone. But I am not. And I will voice this until I am dead.

I will pray for your soul as I work on the bitterness in my own.

And I am including a photo or our family on Millcreek Mountain.

Real live hurting people with no answers, no hope, and no help from the people we elected and trusted.

Sincerely,

Shannon Sosebee McChristian