
But behind the beauty lies a region where many are struggling. Tourists flock here in the summer to escape cities, pollution and noise, and to enjoy clean air and dark starry skies. She asks: “Do you want to kill the goose that laid the golden egg?” She says it’s that rugged coast and pristine wilderness that make this corner of the world special, and a large development could destroy woodlands and wild blueberry barrens that have been here 10,000 years, with Native Americans being the first stewards. “This is the last wilderness on the East Coast,” says Marie Emerson, whose husband, Dell, is a beloved native son, a longtime blueberry farmer and university research farm manager.

Interspersed with the woods are wild blueberry barrens. Deer, moose, black bears, beaver and fisher cats wander the forest floor. Below are dozens of streams, ponds and lakes brimming with trout and historic runs of Atlantic salmon. In Columbia Falls, population 485, the place closest to the patch of land where the pole would rise, the debate has laid bare community and cultural flashpoints.ĭoes the quiet area want the visitors it would bring? Would the massive undertaking scar the landscape? How do you balance development and environmentalism? How do traditional industries fare alongside service-economy jobs?Īnd perhaps most significant of all: How does an American town demonstrate its love of country in an era when even the Stars and Stripes themselves have been politicized?įrom overhead, the landscape here remains a sprawling green canopy. So far, the project - called the Flagpole of Freedom Park - has done precisely the opposite. Here’s how Morrill Worcester, founder of Worcester Wreath, tells it: “We want to bring Americans together, remind them of the centuries of sacrifice made to protect our freedom, and unite a divided America.” To promoters, the $1 billion project, funded in part by donations, would unite people of all political stripes and remind them of shared values in an era of national polarization.

And atop it? A massive American flag bigger than a football field, visible from miles away on a clear day.

Which makes it a striking backdrop to one family’s bold vision for the region: a flagpole jutting upward from the woodlands toward spacious skies - the tallest one ever, reaching higher than the Empire State Building. Maine’s Down East region is where the sunlight first kisses the East Coast of the United States each day, where the vast wilderness and ocean meet in one of the last places on the East Coast unspoiled by development. Farmers tend expanses of wild blueberries. COLUMBIA FALLS, Maine (AP) - Lobster boat engines rumble to life in quiet coves.
