The board's public listening session filled the Cedar House dining room.
I had expected donors, staff, and a few county officials. I hadn't expected the woman with the tub of school papers, or the volunteer who'd taught me how to make a phone tree, or a man who'd spent two nights in the lodge after his apartment building lost its roof.
They didn't come because I'd asked them to lobby. They came because they'd heard Cedar House might close.
Evelyn stood at the lectern and explained the financial position. Her presentation was clear, restrained, and difficult to dismiss. The foundation had lost two major annual donors. The roof needed replacing. Heating costs had doubled. The reserve fund had covered emergency repairs for three years in a row.
"Continuing as we are is not responsible," s
