By Ben Olson
Reader Staff
A long time ago, the people of Sandpoint lived in darkness.
When the cold winter months set in, Sandpointians were left to navigate to and from work on streets without lamps, homes without porch lights, and no twinkle lights to cheer their paths.
The darkness sunk deep into peoples’ souls. It fed off of their fear and confusion. It ate away at them.
Without light to see their way, Sandpointians were restless and short with one another. They argued, they hollered, they snapped. Thanksgiving and Christmas came and went without cheer, the new year dawned without occasion. The darkness that surrounded the town invaded their souls.
It was not a fun time to be alive.
Then, one day, a Sandpointian decided to hang a light from his porch. It was a simple, warm lamplight that gave those passing by something to help guide their way.
Neighbors began following suit, installing their own lights, some adding lawn torches on front walks, others stringing lights from eaves.
The lights were of all types, colors and arrays. Some were solid yellow, others blue and red. Some twinkled on and off, others pulsed slowly. Some were modern LED lights, others old incandescent bulbs with filaments burning visibly inside.
Before long, Sandpoint no longer lived in darkness. Lights of all types lit the town from bridge to bridge. Neighbors, intrigued and comforted by the glow coming from everywhere, emerged from their hermitage and embraced one another. They sat on porches and shouted hearty greetings to passersby. They shared sodas and beers in their backyards.
Though some didn’t have much in common other than the lights, these residents grew kinder and appreciated their neighbors like never before. Everyone, lit by the warm glow, felt they belonged in this place.
It was a glorious time to be alive in Sandpoint, this quaint little hamlet lost somewhere in the panhandle of Idaho.
Then, slowly, the darkness began to creep back in. New Folks moved to town and, not knowing of the dark days before everyone embraced lights, began complaining that they disrupted their lives.
They complained about the people who displayed LED lights because the glow was too sterile. They groused about holiday light displays not including their favorite colors red and green.
“We moved here to enjoy the darkness!” the New Folks cried, flooding the City Council meetings with their pitchforks. “If people want light, tell them to go back to where they came from or move to the big city!”
The lights were either too bright or too dim. They contained too many colors or not enough. The lights were placed incorrectly and shined too close to their own living room windows. The New Folks wanted nothing to do with lights anymore — they only wanted darkness, which they demanded everyone else should live in, too.
Soon, the bickering turned to shouting. Before long, the shouting gave way to shoving. Sandpointians often carried pockets full of pebbles to throw at their neighbors’ lights, shattering the bulbs with well-aimed throws. Before, the people felt warm and comfortable walking home awash in light. Now, they broke bulbs as quickly as they were installed.
Before long, Sandpoint found itself in darkness again — all of the porch lights, street lamps and twinkle bulbs busted down to shards of glass. The residents grumbled to and from work again, their eyes looking at neighbors’ dark lawns and homes with mistrust. Because nobody could see where they were going, the people of Sandpoint often bumped into one another, causing fights and feuds that lasted years. Front porches grew silent, yards empty, streets dark and foreboding.
It was not a fun time to be alive in Sandpoint anymore.
It was around this time when the New Folks began to notice Newer Folks moving into town. These Newer Folks wanted not only darkness, but complete silence in town. No light, no noise. Period.
“That’s a step too far,” some of the New Folks said to one another.
They held town meetings and stamped their feet in frustration, but the Newer Folks got their way and all sounds were prohibited, along with all light. Now, they lived in total darkness and complete silence. Neighbors hated one another more than ever before.
People began to move away from Sandpoint, seeking light and sound that other places provided, but some of these places were also becoming dark and silent. It seemed there was no end to how far these feelings traveled, until, one day, the nation was dark and silent from coast to coast. No lights, no noise — just an uneasy stillness that lasted for generations.
Everyone got their way. The lights were all broken, the sound nonexistent and forgotten. Our nation became one large mass of land filled with unhappy, silent, dim people wondering what happened to the good days.
Don’t give up the light, folks. Don’t give up on each other, either. We may hang different lights in our yards, but we have more in common than we might think. We might disagree about some small things, but we all seek light and love, friends and family, kindness and civility, respect and a place to lay our heads at night. Don’t give up the light.
