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Making
things happen - with integrity. A weekly CyberMemo designed to keep you on task. Monday July 30, 2001 Volume III Number 31 |
FOCUS - Loveland Pass
Loveland Pass was once the price you paid to go through the gateway to the high country of Western Colorado.
It’s a narrow, winding two-laner, making twists and turns way above the timberline. The guardrail keeps drivers from drifting over the shoulder and rolling over the edge to a certain demise. It’s a thousand foot plus drop off. Drowziness? Never. What kind of driver could possibly be sleepy on Loveland Pass Highway? Impossible. Along the way, all of your senses are in a ready state of alert. At twelve thousand feet in elevation, the air gets thin. The breathing heavy. Headache and dizziness even nausea can accompany driver and passengers over Loveland Pass. Enduring the discomfort, you get to the top… and what a pay-off.
The views are spectacular; peaks in the distance, deep blue clear skies and a blinding sun. You look down on the tall pine forests. You may see a ram-horned mountain goat on a rocky rim. Fluffy white clouds drift by as your radiator shows the strain, red needle edging up to the boiling point. Your fuel mixture was set for sea-level, but now at this altitude your carburetor is gasping for air and it seems your power is gone, barely enough to keep you moving forward and upward.
And at the crest of the pass, you feel a sense of accomplishment. Not quite as exhilarating as it would be had you climbed it under your own power… but almost.
Now, there is an Interstate. And a tunnel. A huge tunnel. They call it the Eisenhower/Johnson.
Denver is a mile high. The Interstate West might as well be a runway. You cancel the overdrive, build up your RPMs, and punch it up to high speed on the cruise control. These days that’ll be close to eighty. As you ascend to altitude, you fly by loaded down eighteen-wheelers like they’re standing still.
But no need to take the slow out-of-the-way Loveland Pass Highway. You’ll zip right by the off ramp. It’s now the HISTORIC Loveland Pass Highway.
How did THAT happen? I mean, the “historic” thing.
You don’t go OVER Loveland Pass anymore. You go UNDER it… through a massive hole through the granite mountain peak.
There was a time when you had to WORK for your view.
Not anymore.
* * * * * * * *
Deborah was employed by a government agency in Washington. She linked available financial aid to deserving high school students, and encouraged them to apply to local colleges. On Sundays, she and her husband attended a large church, and when the Pastor learned about her work, he challenged her to spend time in their large high school program to do the same for the church’s burgeoning youth group.
Soon, she was making speeches on Sunday morning, rooted in Bible passages, teaching these young people about their uniqueness in all creation, about their ability to connect personally to the living God, find forgiveness and hope and purpose, and that their future could be brighter than they ever imagined. The high school ministry of the church more than doubled.
Deborah lined up visits to the local colleges. She invited faculty and student leaders to meet them and take tours and learn about the high-energy activities all over the campus. Athletes talked to coaches. Creative writers hooked up with the English department. Math and science whizzes spoke to department heads. Musicians went to concerts. In every case, Deborah was there, listening to stories, instilling confidence and giving direction. Her message was plain and simple and profound – “you can do it.”
Before long, the story of Deborah’s success spread all over the city. Parents back at the church would greet her with hugs of gratitude. Recruiters considered her pure gold.
But mostly, the students understood that her enthusiasm, her energy and her direction was a primary link in the chain from adolescence to adulthood. Because of Deborah, a college education opened doors that otherwise would not be possible.
* * * * * * *
When Bill and Melinda Gates got serious about giving something of their new wealth back, they formed a Foundation. One of their first priorities targeted public libraries. They read about the “digital divide,” that in today’s highly competitive business environment, access to technology is critical. Some segments in American society needed encouragement. They needed investment and resources and education to gain that access. So the Gates Foundation has been quietly investing millions to bring America’s public libraries up to speed with hardware and high-speed Internet links. Through training programs in electronic labs all over the nation, young people from every walk of life can log on and be taught the benefits of a new era in communication and business enterprise.
The Foundation also got intentional in providing scholarships to needy young people, They engaged the United Negro College Fund to find worthy participants. In a national search to find an Executive Director, they ran across Deborah, now a PhD and working with the Washington DC based American Council on Education. The Gates Foundation found a winner.
Today, Deborah lives in Seattle with her husband, Fred. She smiled and said, “I just can’t believe it… I work for the richest man in the world… he and his wife Melinda want me to help give it away!”
I met Deborah this week in Frisco, Colorado, just past the Eisenhower/Johnson tunnel. I’ll never forget her. She radiates love and hope and enthusiasm.
I asked about her pastor. “What did he say when he learned you’d be leaving Washington DC for Seattle to work for the foundation?” I knew it would be difficult for him to lose this energetic volunteer.
She thought for a second, remembering the meeting in his office. After she told her remarkable story, he smiled and said, “Well now, just look at the good thing God has done. You go girl!”
Deborah is a woman on a mission.
* * * * * * *
When I got off the plane this weekend, and took the ride home, my soon to be son-in-law was waiting in the kitchen. I hadn’t seen him for a while, so we hugged and laughed and high-fived. Candy pulled out a small velvet box. Inside, Jamie’s wedding band.
I looked at my brown-eyed girl. And then at Jamie. It’s beginning to sink in. It’s for real.
We are less than a week away. The mountain of details is staggering. It matches the mountain of emotion.
* * * * * * *
In 1973 the Eisenhower Tunnel, the highest automobile tunnel in the world, opened. One point seven miles through solid granite. One million cubic yards were removed, and over fifteen hundred miles of ventilation piping keep the long tunnel filled with fresh air. The first side of the tunnel allowed for two lanes of traffic to bypass Loveland Pass. Nearly ten years in the making, the Colorado State Legislature gave the tunnel its name, in honor of the popular two term President of twenty five years before. The new name, by an Act of State Legislators, replaced the original working name, Straight Creek Tunnel.
It’s the first tunnel ever to transverse a continental divide.
Ten
years later, phase two was completed. The
second tunnel, built parallel to the first while it was in use, was named after
another President. Three workers
died in the construction of the first tunnel, the Eisenhower.
Six died in the construction of the second, the Johnson.
Now I-70 zips through the mountain four lanes in two directions.
Few take time to visit the eleven thousand nine-hundred and ninety foot elevation vista at Loveland Pass anymore.
* * * * * * *
Weddings are watershed events. Milestones. The crossing of a continental divide.
I don’t want to race through this one on cruise control at eighty miles per hour. I think I’ll take the side road. Up Loveland Pass where East meets West.
The air’s thin up here above the timberline. Crisp and clean. The sky’s a clear deep blue, and the pine forest’s tall and, well, majestic really, and as I scan the peaks, I realize that I’m not the first who’s been here, and won’t be the last. I’m not alone. In God’s creation, time and weather, wind and rain, fire and ice and water, sun and moon, make things beautiful. And good. And enduring.
The tunnel’s nice, if you are in a hurry. But the side road’s better. It’s the road less traveled.
* * * * * * *
It’s Monday morning. You are a leader.
If you are like me, you’d just as soon tunnel through all the stuff and get to the other side as quickly and painlessly as possible. At high speed.
But like Deborah, we have a role to play. As leaders, we are encouragers. Affirmers. Facilitators. Counselors.
As I reflected on Deborah’s work, I wondered how many young people will someday look back and realize that it was Deborah who came along right at that critical moment and pointed the way to a life that may have never been… her smile and her belief and her passion meant the difference between a career track and a derailment.
Don’t underestimate your ability to help your people realize a better life.
You’ll want to give a little extra time for the side-road… Loveland Pass.
Stay in the tunnel and you won’t see anything at all.
The view is well worth the effort.
© Copyright Kenneth E. Kemp 2001
Special Thanks to my good friend David Belcher, owner of Rhino Media Group and creator of WisdomGram
LeaderFOCUS is a service of Good Stewardship Associates
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