Part 14

In August of 1869 Mr. Peter McKinley resigned his position as light-keeper, my husband being appointed in his place. Then began a new life, other business was discontinued and all our time was devoted to the care of the light. In the spring of 1870 a large force of men came with material to build a new tower and repair the dwelling, adding a new brick kitchen. Mr. Newton with his two sons had charge of the work. A new fourth order lens was placed in the new tower and the color of the light changed from white to red. These improvements were a great addition to the station from what it had been. Our tower was built round with a winding stairs of iron steps. My husband having now very poor health I took charge of the care of the lamps; and the beautiful lens in the tower was my especial care. On stormy nights I watched the light that no accident might happen. We burned the lard oil, which needed great care, especially in cold weather, when the oil would congeal and fail to flow fast enough to the wicks. In long nights the lamps had to be trimmed twice each night, and sometimes oftener. At such times the light needed careful watching. From the first the work had a fascination for me. I loved the water, having always been near it, and I loved to stand in the tower and watch the great rolling waves chasing and tumbling in upon the shore. It was hard to tell when it was loveliest. Whether in its quiet moods or in a raging foam.

VESSELS SEEKING SHELTER FROM THE STORMS.

My three brothers were then sailing, and how glad I felt that their eyes might catch the bright rays of our light shining out over the waste of waters on a dark stormy night. Many nights when a gale came on we could hear the flapping of sails and the captain shouting orders as the vessels passed our point into the harbor, seeking shelter from the storm. Sometimes we could count fifty and sixty vessels anchored in our harbor, reaching quite a distance outside the point, as there was not room for so many inside. They lay so close they almost touched at times. At night our harbor looked like a little city with its many lights. It was a pleasant sound to hear all those sailors' voices singing as they raised the anchors in the early morning. With weather fair and white sails set the ships went gliding out so gracefully to their far away ports. My brothers were sometimes on those ships. Many captains carried their families on board with them during the warm weather. Then what a pleasure to see the children and hear their sweet voices in song in the twilight hours. Then again when they came on shore for a race on land, or taking their little baskets went out to pick the wild strawberries. All these things made life the more pleasant and cheerful.

DEATH OF MY HUSBAND, THE LIGHT-KEEPER.

Life seemed very bright in our light house beside the sea. One dark and stormy night we heard the flapping of sails and saw the lights flashing in the darkness. The ship was in distress. After a hard struggle she reached the harbor and was leaking so badly she sank. My husband in his efforts to assist them lost his life. He was drowned with a companion, the first mate of the schooner "Thomas Howland." The bodies were never recovered, and only those who have passed through the same know what a sorrow it is to lose your loved one by drowning and not be able to recover the remains. It is a sorrow that never ends through life.

MY APPOINTMENT AS LIGHT-KEEPER.

Life to me then seemed darker than the midnight storm that raged for three days upon the deep, dark waters. I was weak from sorrow, but realized that though the life that was dearest to me had gone, yet there were others out on the dark and treacherous waters who needed to catch the rays of the shining light from my light-house tower. Nothing could rouse me but that thought, then all my life and energy was given to the work which now seemed was given me to do. The light-house was the only home I had and I was glad and willing to do my best in the service. My appointment came in a few weeks after, and since that time I have tried faithfully to perform my duty as a light keeper. At first I felt almost afraid to assume so great a responsibility, knowing it all required watchful care and strength, with many sleepless nights. I now felt a deeper interest in our sailors' lives than ever before, and I longed to do something for humanity's sake, as well as earn my own living, having an aged mother dependent upon me for a home. My father had passed beyond. Sorrows came thick and fast upon me. Two brothers and three nephews had found graves beneath the deep waters, but mine was not the only sorrow. Others around me were losing their loved ones on the stormy deep and it seemed to me there was all the more need that the lamps in our light-house towers should be kept brightly burning.

Let our lamps be brightly burning For our brothers out at sea-- Then their ships are soon returning, Oh! how glad our hearts will be.

There are many that have left us, Never more will they return; Left our hearts with sorrows aching, Still our lamps must brightly burn.

TRIBUTE TO THE SAILORS.

Oh sailor boy, sailor boy, sailor boy true! The lamps in our towers are lighted for you. Though the sea may be raging your hearts will not fail; You'll ride through the rolling foam not fearing the gale.

And God in his mercy will lead you aright. As you watch the light-house with lamps burning bright. The wind your lullaby, as the raging seas foam; Oh sailor boy, sailor boy, we welcome you home.

Oh sailor boy, sailor boy, sailor boy true! Your dear darling mother is praying for you; Your sweet bride is weeping as her vigil she keeps, Not knowing your ship has gone down into the deep.

As she walks on the shore, her eyes out to sea, "Oh husband, my sailor boy, come back to me!" The wild waves dash up at her feet in a foam, They answer, "Your sailor boy no more can come home."

In sorrow she kneels on that wave-beaten shore, "Shall I never, see my dear sailor boy more?" The waves whisper softly, their low moaning sound, "You'll meet your dear sailor boy, in Heaven he's crowned."

LIGHT-KEEPERS AND THEIR WORK.

Our light keepers many times live in isolated places, out on rocks and shoals far away from land and neighbors, shut off from social pleasures. In many places there can be no women and children about to cheer and gladden their lonely lives. There is no sound but the cry of the sea gulls soaring about or the beating of the restless waters, yet their lives are given to their work. As the sailor loves his ship so the light-keeper loves his light-house. Where there are three or four keepers at one station they manage to make the time pass more pleasantly. They must in many cases be sailors as well as light-keepers, as it requires both skill and courage to manage their boats in sailing back and forth between their lights and the mainland, where mail, provisions and other necessaries are procured for their comforts. Often they are drowned in making these trips. The passing of the ships near their stations are like so many old friends to them. They learn to love the passing boats and vessels, and it is a pleasure to know our lights cheer and gladden the hearts of the sailors as the waves run high and the wild winds blow on dark, stormy nights. May the hearts of the light-keepers, as well as the life savers in the life saving service along the great lakes and coasts, be strengthened and cheered in the grand and noble work.

As we lie in our beds so snugly and warm. The sailors are on the sea battling the storm. As the sailors are tramping their decks in the midnight hours, We are trimming our lamps in our light-house towers.

GALES ON OUR LAKES.

There were many wrecks towed into our harbor, where they were left until repaired enough to be taken to dry docks in cities. Sometimes in spring and fall the canvas would be nearly all torn off a schooner in the terrible gales which swept the lakes, many of which I have been out in, in my trips on the lakes and among the islands.

One of our pioneers, Capt. Robert Roe, of Buffalo, N. Y., had settled on South Fox Island in 1859. He put out a dock, built a comfortable house, and bought the land the Mormons had occupied. He farmed, and furnished cord wood to lake steamers for many years. Many were the gales he sailed through in his trips passing from the island to main land. His brother was keeper of the light-house several years at South Fox Island.

STEAMER "BADGER STATE."

Of all the many steamers that came to our harbor as the years passed on, and there were many, the "Badger State" of the Union Line of Buffalo, N. Y., gave us the longest service, running for ten years into Beaver Harbor, never once missing a trip and most always on time. Capt. Alexander Clark was master. No matter what the weather might be, how heavy the gale, the good ship "Badger State" never failed us. Thousands of barrels of fish were shipped on her to city markets, bringing the merchants' goods and merchandise. She also carried our summer mails and being a popular boat was always filled with passengers. From the spring of 1873 to the summer of 1883 the "Badger State" was a faithful friend. No one but those who reside on an island can appreciate the steamboat service or what it means to the people. We learn to love the boats, the sound of the whistle even in the midnight hours was music in our ears and brought cheer and comfort to our hearts.

CAPT. E. A. BOUCHARD.

Capt. E. A. Bouchard, of Mackinac Island, commanded several steamers around the lakes and islands of Northern Michigan and Green Bay. Steamers Passaic and Canisteo of the Green Bay line and the Grace Dormer, which burned in our harbor, where one man was burned and the captain and his wife had a narrow escape with their lives.

In the early days Capt. E. A. Bouchard sailed a small steamboat called the "Islander," and oftentimes when we saw the craft coming it looked as though it might be one of the small islands broke loose from its moorings floating along the water. And it really seemed the captain loved his little craft, for his face always wore a pleasant smile when he greeted us. It mattered not for the "Islander's" beauty, she brought our mail and many friends, who came to enjoy a summer vacation on our beautiful island.

In the sixties we had the steamers Galena, Capt. Stelle, master; Queen of the Lakes, Capt. Lewis Crarey, master; Mayflower, Capt. Woodruff, master; S. D. Caldwell, Capt. Hunt, master; Fountain City, Capt. Penney, master; Dean Richmond, Cuyahoga, Norton, and many others. In the year 1883 steamers Lawrence and Champlain made regular trips until replaced by the newer and larger boats of the Northern Michigan Line.

OLD NEIGHBORS LEAVING THE ISLAND.

About the year 1876 Mr. James Dormer, who had done an extensive business at the Point, retired and went to his home in Buffalo, N. Y., renting his property to Mr. John Day of Green Bay, Wis. Later Mr. C. R. Wright and son, also one of the old pioneers of the island who had carried on the fish business so many years, sold his dock property and store building, moving to Harbor Springs, still continuing in the dry goods business. About that time others of our island people moved to the main land, settling in different parts, making new homes. Several of the young men filling responsible positions as captains, mates and clerks on the lake steamers, and several of the young women being trained nurses in city hospitals.

I now married again, still holding my position as light-keeper. Since my marriage my official title has been Mrs. Daniel Williams. Having a desire to change my residence from the island to the mainland I made the request to be changed to a mainland light station. I was soon transferred to the Little Traverse light-station at Harbor Springs, Mich. The light-house just finished, the lamp being lighted the first time September 25th, 1884. The light-station is situated on the extreme end of Harbor Point, at the entrance of Little Traverse harbor.

SAD THOUGHTS ON LEAVING MY ISLAND HOME.

Preparations were made, goods were packed, the steamer "Grace Barker" with Capt. Walter Chrysler as master, had come to take us to our new home. So often before had I left the island, passing several winters in other parts, but always returning again, and happy to get back to my neighbors and pleasant island home, with its fresh, pure air. But now I knew this was different. There would be no more coming back to live, this time was to be the last. The dear old island and I must part. I had always thought it beautiful in the many years I had called it my home; but never before had I realized what it had been to me until now. I was leaving, perhaps never more to return.

Recollections came of my childhood days when free from care and knowing no sorrow, I had wandered through the pleasant paths strewn with flowers, sending their sweet perfume upon the air, as my brothers had so often taken me with them on their hunts; and the beautiful white beach where the blue waters came rolling in where so often we had wandered together, chasing the waves as they came tumbling in upon us, or as we paddled about the shores in our canoes, and where I so often had watched to see their white sails returning to land when I had not gone with them upon the water. As all these thoughts came passing through my mind I wondered if I could leave all these memories behind, or could I carry them away to the new home, the new land as it almost seemed. Though our family was broken and no more could we gather around the hearth at evening time, some had passed over into the beyond, yet there was no place on earth where we all seemed so close together as on the island shores. We had passed through many storms, both mental and physical, but had felt the mighty power of him who rules all things to give us peace and strength. And the "light-house!" That had been my home so many years, I loved the very bricks within its walls. Under its roof I had passed many happy years as well as some sorrowful ones. It was filled with hallowed memories. Then came the separation from the friends and neighbors. Could their places ever be filled?

The sun shone bright, the day was fair as we stepped upon our steamer that was to bear us away from our island home. As we steamed so fast away, we looked back to watch its white shores with beautiful green trees in the background and the pretty white tower and dwelling of our light-house, which soon could be seen no more only in sad, sweet memories.

Just a few hours passed when we steamed into Little Traverse Harbor, and the "red light," just like the one we had left, was flashing its rays over the waters of Little Traverse Bay for the first time. The water was calm and still. The "red light" shone deep into the quiet waters, and many eyes were watching the bright rays from the light-house tower, and the wish of their hearts had been gratified in having a light house on Harbor Point to guide steamers and vessels into the harbor. The evening was clear and the picture was a lovely one as we rounded the point so near the light. Some passengers said to me. "Here is your home. Don't you know the red light is giving you a welcome?" Yes, it was all one's heart could wish, yet I felt there was another I had left in the old home that was now just a little more dear to my heart.

IN THE NEW HOME.

We were met by friends and taken to their home for the night. Next morning we drove through the resort grounds to "Harbor Point Light House," as it is known by the land people, but to the mariner it is "Little Traverse Light House." We were soon at work putting our house in order, and the beautiful lens in the tower seemed to be appealing to me for care and polishing, which I could not resist, and since that time I have given my best efforts to keep my light shining from the light-house tower. Many old-time friends came to see us in our new home on Harbor Point, and though we greatly missed our island home and island neighbors, we soon felt an interest in our new surroundings. What I missed here most was not to see the passing ships and steamers, as they were constantly passing where we could see them from the island.

There were a number of steamers, both large and small, running on our bay. Steamers City of Grand Rapids, T. S. Faxton, both owned by Mr. Hannah at Traverse City, that ran as far as Mackinac Island, steamer Van Raalte, owned by Mr. Charles Caskey of Harbor Springs. She was put on the Manistique route, calling at St. James, carrying the mail, with Capt. E. A. Bouchard as master; Clara Belle, another small steamer, with several tugs. Northern Michigan line was Lawrence, Champlain, City of Petoskey, and City of Charlevoix. At this writing the same company have the Kansas, and the two staunch new steamers, Illinois and Missouri. We also have the large passenger S. S. Manitou with Steamer Northland, and the Hart line boats of Green Bay.

VISITING AT TRAVERSE CITY.

Since coming to mainland I have visited my old Traverse City home. There I met many friends of my childhood days, my teacher among the rest, with her sister Agnes. For a couple of weeks I was entertained by my old friends, Mr. and Mrs. H. D. Campbell and family. While there I visited all the old haunts and located the spot where the little log school house had stood, and the crooked tree which we school children loved so much to climb into and sit while our companions played about among the green pines and oaks. I strolled around to Bryant's where the road turns off to Old Mission. The old Bryant home looked just the same, nestling among the green trees, as in the years of long ago. Close beside it was the beautiful home of my school days' friend, Mrs. Frank Brush, where I was very cordially entertained by herself and family. I visited with my old friends in their handsome country home, Mr. and Mrs. J. K. Gunton, then around the bay to Greilick's. It seemed but yesterday since I had left it, and yet I missed so many of the old familiar faces. There was much sadness mixed in with the pleasure of meeting with old friends.

The city had changed, no traces were left of my old home. The mill pond was filled in and streets and buildings were in its place. Strangers were in the places where once we children had run our races down the car track to the dock. The house where I had last visited my father, had been removed and another built in its place, but the little gurgling brook was still singing its cheerful songs and the flowers were blooming on its mossy banks. The beautiful forest trees had been cut down and a city was made where once the wild strawberries and June roses grew, even the Company's garden where we school children used to go and ride the horses around the field, was all changed into a city. While there I found where my three school friends were, the Rice girls. I had thought them dead, but happy was the meeting after thirty-six years of separation, and every summer since they never fail to make a little visit to the light-house, where we again live over the old days. Although there are silvery threads among the gold of our hair, we feel our hearts are young when speaking of the old school days.

Since I left my island home I have never returned but once. The short time I was there were precious hours to me, and though I cannot go I so often see it in memory as it was when nature had put on her most lovely garments of green; when June roses were in bloom filling the air with fragrance with the friends of my younger days. Such pictures can never fade from memory.

I always feel a deep interest in the prosperity and welfare of the island people. My present surroundings are all that could be wished for, and the light-house on Harbor Point is the place that is dearest to me.

A few of the old pioneers of the island are Capt. Manus Bonnar, who owns and runs the Hotel Beaver; Mr. and Mrs. James Dunlevey have a fine, large dry goods store; Mr. James McCann has another with general merchandise; Mr. William Gallagher is the pioneer pound-net fisherman of the island; Mr. William Boyle and several others are in business. Several outside people have invested in land and in the near future expect to have a resort with daily boats running to main land in the summer months. No more healthful place can be found for rest and recreation than the fair and beautiful Beaver Island.

RESORTS AROUND LITTLE TRAVERSE BAY

The growth of many resorts around little Traverse Bay have been wonderful since my coming to Harbor Point light-house. Bay View with its summer schools of music, paintings and works of art, with its splendid gospel teachings and quiet restful places where people come to rest the tired brain from a busy city life. It is an ideal place for summer rest.

Petoskey is a beautiful little city built upon a hillside. It has many advantages of pure air, beautiful views of the water on the bay and Lake Michigan. With its boats and railroads nothing more is needed for comfort.

Roaring Brook, a picturesque spot of nature which must be seen to be appreciated. One must listen to the roaring of the brook to understand the meaning of the gurgling sound. One never tires in rambling about through the quiet, shady, green mossy nooks where the birds sing sweetly among the cedar trees.

Wequetonsing, how fair to look upon. With its handsome cottages, green lawns, flowing water clear as crystal. Surely no drink can be sweeter than this pure water! It has a beautiful view of the bay, with Petoskey showing so prettily across the waters, and the light-house point with its green trees making delightful scenery for the eyes to rest upon.

Then the pretty town of Harbor Springs nestling so near the high bluff with its many pretty buildings on the heights from which the view is perfect. On clear days Fox Islands and Beaver Island can be plainly seen.

And beautiful Charlevoix. Her natural beauties with works of man have made her fair to look upon. I love to remember the beautiful scenery as I saw it when a child, with its lovely forest trees growing down to the water's edge, wild birds warbling in the branches, wild ducks swimming upon the quiet, calm waters of little Round Lake. There are many other resorts scattered all about the bays and shores where people find rest and strength.

Last, but not least, is beautiful Harbor Point. A narrow point of land which helps to form the harbor with water on both sides and a heavy growth of trees of many different kinds making lovely, natural, shady parks, with many fine summer homes and beautiful drives. On the end of the Point stands the lighthouse with its red light flashing out at night over the waters, looking like a great red ruby set with diamonds as the electric lights are shining around the bay and harbor. What more is needed of nature's beauty to make the picture complete?

The sun has sunk in the west, leaving the sky all purple and pink. The moon, just risen, sheds her soft, mellow light over the earth; all nature is resting. The birds are in their nests, the whip-poor-will has ceased her plaintive notes, the sea gulls are soaring away to their nightly rest. No sound is heard save the soft, low murmurings of the waves upon the shore.

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Transcriber's Corrections

Following is a list of significant typographical errors that have been corrected.

- Page 14, "morroco" changed to "morocco" (little red morocco shoes).

- Page 19, "is" changed to "its" (from its tower).

- Page 27, "cant'" changed to "can't" (Me can't stay).

- Page 29, "swoolen" changed to "swollen" (still badly swollen).

- Page 31, "you" changed to "your" (your mother on my back).