Could a cross-border handshake keep old love alive through a tariff war nobody wanted?

Losing love is like a window to your heart. Everybody sees you’re blown apart. Everybody feels the wind blow.

Folk singer Paul Simon clearly wasn’t singing about international relations with that poignant line from “Graceland.” But the words fit sentiments along both sides of the U.S./Canada border these days.

Border towns from Point Roberts to Sumas are living through an international gale warning, and it’s not the occasional nasty nor’easter that rips down the Fraser with a force that can uproot a rusty fencepost right out of rock-hard ground.

Amid the tariff turmoil from the Trump takeover, a lot of folks in small towns on the U.S. side are hunkered and just hanging on. Business is noticeably down. Streets and sidewalks are lonesome avenues.

Something’s been lost here that never was fully appreciated. The neighbors, understandably, no longer feel welcome, and don’t come over anymore.

Can you blame them?

Even if it’s a habit ingrained in lifestyle, who wants to cross into what now is unmistakably “enemy” territory to save a few bucks on milk? Such is the result of the ongoing, tariff-driven attempt to blow up a national economy (or maybe two) in what now, remarkably, appears to be a serious ploy to make a longtime ally roll over and be swallowed up by its suddenly off-the-rocker neighbor.

On the U.S. side? Regardless of how they feel about any “plan” behind the White House’s ongoing frontal assault on American norms, many border dwellers are particularly appalled at our nation’s belligerent, disrespectful current treatment of our neighbors.

The loss and sense of embarrassment is palpable.

A cross-border meetup?

A handful of local Americans aren’t willing to just accept it. With little hope of influencing national policies, at least anytime soon, they’re early-stage dreaming about a public civic hug with fellow Canadians — perhaps this spring at Peace Arch State Park.

It would effectively be a visible flare with a message: We’re not OK with any of it. And in spite of all appearances, you’re still welcome here.

Rick Gordon, a 75-year-old Bellingham retiree who finds words of derision for both national political parties these days, was one of the first to pitch the idea. A Whatcom resident for nearly five decades, he knows he fits squarely in the one-guy-with-an-idea category. But he also believes good things can still root there. Maybe.

Last week, he sent his own seeds of rationale out to Gov. Bob Ferguson and Whatcom County Executive Satpal Sidhu. Simple pitch: Let’s organize a bi-national meet/greet to tell our B.C. sisters and brothers, face to face, how we feel.

He noted that we happen to sit on a space uniquely suited: Blaine’s sprawling Peace Arch State Park, where a graceful arch bears witness to the longstanding friendship of two nations: Brethren dwelling together in unity.

Sure, it’s corny. But a lot of people only now are realizing how much they took it all for granted.

Gordon acknowledges a group handshake there would be a small gesture, perhaps easily dismissed. And not surprisingly amid the current governmental chaos, he’s still waiting for a response from government offices. But as it turns out, he wasn’t alone in his thinking.

A slight whiff of momentum

A number of Whatcom residents and public officials have entertained the same idea, says Mary Lou Steward, Blaine’s mayor. She plans to challenge them to join forces and make something happen.

“We have to do something,” she said. “We obviously can’t change the tariffs. What we want to do is change the perception of people in Canada that we are unwelcoming. In fact, we are welcoming more than they can imagine.”

Steward believes certain points are worth reemphasizing, in a personal way.

“We can go out and say, ‘Listen, Washington state did not vote for this. Whatcom County did not vote for it. We are stuck with it. Our people are losing businesses. We want to assure you that we welcome you in Blaine, Sumas, wherever you’re coming. We still welcome you.”

She agrees the Peace Arch is the place and intends to pursue the matter.

It’s not all just about feelings. Every day, Steward sees evidence of downturns in Canadian presence across her home county. The economic impact can’t be measured until state sales tax reports, which lag by about two months, trickle in. But nobody’s expecting more than bad news.

It’s unclear whether a bi-national gathering is even realistic. But the idea has drawn interest from a handful of officials. Clearly, a large-scale event adjacent to a busy border facility would require higher-level cooperation. (Ferguson’s office did not immediately respond to a CDN inquiry.)

For his part, Gordon believes any meetup should be decidedly focused not on politics, but friendship. He sees it as reaffirming the long-term mutual respect long embraced by people from both nations. Politicians at any level above the state and province can feel free to steer clear.

Reaching out: it’s just common decency

In a time of hostility and hurt, Gordon sees inviting the neighbors over to chat as simply the decent thing to do.

“Every time I go to Canada, or encounter people from B.C. at the pumps or Costco, I always take time to thank them for being our good neighbors,” he said. “Now, when I see all these things happening to them … I feel badly for them.”

He also admits he wants to stick with a lifelong practice of traveling to the Canadian Rockies or Johnstone Strait for R&R, and not feel like some hostile invader.

“I don’t want to be looked on with disdain because of the stupidity that’s going on today,” he said.

He’s not alone.

Let’s be real: Nobody should feel badly for Americans in this picture. We are the de facto instigating punks in this squabble.

But it’s undeniable that love’s been lost along our border. From the Gulf Islands to the San Juans, Point Roberts to Tsawwassen, White Rock to Blaine, Abbotsford to Sumas and even Vancouver to Seattle, the hole is real.

Everybody feels the wind blow.

That song wasn’t about a place or person, certainly not borders, songwriter Simon once explained. It was about bridging divisions; honoring places and passions around which disparate people can rally. “Graceland” was a metaphor for common ground, not an ode to a particular place.

Here, they might coexist. Few grounds are as common as the one bearing the inscription, Children of a common mother.

The whole thing is probably just a dream. But these days, imagine the spiritual value of just one, realized.

Ron Judd's column appears weekly; ronjudd@cascadiadaily.com; @roncjudd.