To the Zoning Autorities in Lisbon, New Hampshire.

My name is Margaret Meyer and in 4 months I will be ninety-one years old.
My husband is writing this letter on my behalf because I have never learned
to type into a computer. I can still speak very fluently, but sometimes,
in the middle of a sentence, I forget what I was going to say, because I
have become forgetful. That's the reason why after my husband and I have 
had supper and he's put the dishes into the sink, he sets up his lap-top 
to show me pictures, to refresh my memory, to remind me of what our life 
has been like.

And among the pictures I like best are the ones of Cheney Farm, at the
end of Savageville Road, off the Pearl Lake Road, a wonderful 65 acres of
land which we bought, I've forgotten how many years ago. When I was still
able to get around, we spent many happy summer days walking up the old
road throught the tall grass up to the meadow at the top of that hill, 
with a wide, panoramic view of the Amonoosuc Valley with Lisbon nestled 
in its lap. When my husband points out to me on the photo, the Town Hall,
the bridge with the river dammed up behind it, the Amonoosuc glistening in 
the afternoon sunlight like a silver ribbon, and the blue sky with only 
a few clouds, then I remember the clean breezes cooling a hot summer 
afternoon, and then I can't help it, I can't help crying because what
I see is so beautiful and because I'm so old.

My husband explains to me that I should sign this letter because it might
help persuade you not to permit a 65 foot high smoke stack to be built
to rise on the horizon to the northwest, a smoke stack which will belch
black smoke and will make us want to sneeze and cough. He assures me that
the smoke won't blot out the sun entirely, but the sky will be gray with
and the air will smell with fumes from the asphalt. When that happens, 
I won't want to stay any longer. Let's get in the car and go home. 
My husband says that if you approve this asphalt plant, we can just 
sell the farm and find another place where the air is clean and the 
sunshine is clear and maybe that's what we will do.

Margaret Meyer