My husband and I recently took a trip to Gatlinburg, where we stayed at the base of the Great Smoky Mountains and enjoyed daily hikes. During our visit, I picked up a book titled Pictures for a Park: How Photographers Helped Save the Great Smoky Mountains. It is hard to imagine that this breathtaking landscape once faced destruction from extensive logging and was entirely privately owned.

To create a national park in the eastern United States, thousands of parcels of land had to be purchased from small farmers, summer homeowners, and corporate landowners. The book tells the story of a decade-long effort to raise the funds necessary to make that vision a reality. As the author notes, “The states of Tennessee and North Carolina, cities, towns, ordinary citizens, and philanthropists contributed. Even school children donated their precious pennies, nickels, and dimes.”

Recently, I have spoken about the idea of a moonshot for our community. A moonshot is a dream so ambitious that no single person or organization can achieve it alone, and so impactful that its benefits will be felt for generations. It requires vision and steadfast dedication and can take years for the fruits of labor to become visible.  The creation of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park was exactly that kind of moonshot.

Long before the land was purchased or national park standards were met, someone had to cast the vision. As the book’s title suggests, much of that credit belongs to photographers. They carried 60-pound cameras up mountains such as Mt. LeConte. Having hiked that trail myself with nothing more than a small backpack, I can scarcely imagine the effort. They hauled their equipment to remote peaks, waited patiently for the perfect light, and captured images on fragile glass plates. Their photographs helped people see what was possible. They became influencers before the term existed, helping change the trajectory of a scarred mountain landscape.

I do not yet know what the moonshot is for Henry County. But as I read about these photographers, I was struck by something deeper than their talent. Men and women from different backgrounds, some from modest means and others from influential families, united around a shared purpose. As photographer Dutch Roth said, “Our club members are pledged to protect the beauty of the mountains.”

I am grateful they did.

So, what is your dream for Henry County? What bold, transformative goal do you believe could shape the future of our community? Are you willing to join hands with people who may not look like you, think like you, or live like you in pursuit of a common vision?

I am.

Now the question is: What is our mountain moonshot?

If you have an idea, I would love to hear it. This fall, the Foundation will host a series of listening sessions, and I invite you to join us as we begin a community conversation about the future we want to create together.

By: Jennifer Fox