It only seems impossible until it’s done

I graduated from Burlington High School in the year 2000. If you would have told me then that 26 years later, BHS would undergo the transformation recently completed there, I would have laughed and said, “you’re crazy.”

That same year, I dated a girl that lived in North Hill. After dates, I would sometimes cut through downtown taking her home. If you would have told me then that those quiet streets and shuttered buildings would be teeming with life the way they are today, I would have laughed and said, “not a chance.”

In 2002, I graduated from Southeastern Community College. If you would have told me then that our little community college would expand the way it has and come to lead the state in student retention and enrollment growth, I would have wondered what mind-altering substances you apparently had abundant access to. 

And yet, here we are. 

A rendering of the playground at Dankwardt Park in Burlington. This playground is now used by people from all over the community every day.

Same goes for the library, the Bees stadium, the four-lane highway out of town, the Capitol Theater, the playground at Dankwardt Park, and all the other things that have come to life in this community over the past quarter-century. 

I will admit, like many in my generation, I didn’t have a lot of faith in the future of this place at the turn of the millennium. Like many young people, I just wanted out. I wanted to go where the grass was greener – preferably year-round. I really hate winter. 

My college experience took me south for a year, where winters were better but southern pines and southern accents proved too foreign. I needed my river, sandbars in the summer, and the community I left behind.

I guess it takes going away to realize what “home” really is for some of us. 

As luck would have it, in November of 2008, I returned home, taking a job with Des Moines County Conservation, the department for which I now serve as Director. 

Fate, I see in hindsight, is a clever guide. I joined the department just as Big Hollow Lake was being completed – a dream that had been over 40 years in the making. The first parcel of land for what would eventually become the park was acquired in the late 1960’s. There were engineer drawings of the lake as early as the 1970’s. 

I was part of the team that got to cut the ribbon during the “official” grand opening, though I can take no credit for the accomplishment. The credit for that belongs to a long line of people before me. People that listened to pessimists like me say, “you’re crazy,” and “not a chance,” and that four-letter word I now hate the most: “can’t,” and did the impossible anyway. 

In the years that followed, I joined that long line of dreamers and got to take an active role in creating a park that now welcomes 70,000 visitors per year. A park that offers more outdoor recreation opportunities on 800 acres than some places have in their entire communities. As spring approaches, I get to look forward to the families and friends that will visit Big Hollow and the county’s other parks, knowing that those parks are there because a lot of people before refused to accept “can’t” as reality and embraced the opportunity to be one of the crazy ones that made the future possible. 

That future is today’s present. 

I no longer harbor the pessimism I held as a 20-ish young man without enough life experience to have any idea what’s possible and what isn’t. In fact, some may say my pendulum has swung too far the opposite. That I hold too much optimism for the future. That the aspirations I have for this place are too lofty, too grandiose, and ungrounded in reality. 

I may be more apt to agree were it not for the fact that I do not stand alone here. There are a growing number of people that share these aspirations, and many of them play key roles in making them a reality. Several already have impressive track records, I might add. 

As Nelson Mandela said, “It only seems impossible until it’s done.”

What’s your dream for our community? What do you think is impossible, but fun to dream about? What do you think can’t be done here? 

Now ask yourself, “what if it was possible? What would I be willing to do to make that a reality?” Then do that. 

Volunteer. Run for office. Donate to a cause. Join a committee. 

Contribute. 

At 20, I didn’t see what was possible because I wasn’t around the people that were crafting the future. The minute I got involved, my perspective changed. I want that for more people in my community. 

I want that for you. 

It only seems impossible until it’s done. Let’s get it done.