Lighthouse in My Life

Summary (from the publisher): The first lightkeeper was assigned to Libby Island Light Station in 1822, and for the next 152 years Lighthouse Service employees faithfully tended the beacon. Some, like Hervey Wass (Head Keeper from 1919 to 1940), brought their families to this treeless island in Machias Bay, where they strove to maintain a normal family life under unusual and often demanding conditions.

"How did you get food?" "How did the light operate?" "Did you go to school?" "What on earth did you do for entertainment?" Phil Wass has been answering these questions for years, and now, in Lighthouse in My Life, he recounts the fascinating story of a vanishing tradition.

Review: I found this memoir of Philmore Wass's memories of growing up as a lighthouse keeper's son absolutely charming! Wass moved to Libby Island Light Station in 1919 as a toddler when his father was assigned the job. His father remained head keeper for 21 years so the lighthouse and the island were very much the family's home. I think I liked this book because it didn't just deal with the mechanics of the lighthouse but discussed things I really want to know - what was their bathroom situation? (A freezing cold outhouse and Sears & Roebuck catalogs for toilet paper.) What did kids on the island do for fun? (fish, hunt, build huts, travel all over the island, baseball, etc.) I also loved the basic descriptions of the many ways they put food on the table - lobsters, ducks, picking wild cranberries, growing a large garden, etc. This was obviously a close knit family who worked hard and loved spending time together.

I was once again struck by how isolated and dangerous life on lighthouses was. These kids were running around doing all kinds of dangerous stunts and had near drowning experiences constantly. Guess that's the risk you took back in the day. Wass' childhood anecdotes were personable and really made this lifestyle come to life.

Once again, this memoir made me sad in the realization that lighthouse keepers are no more. Wass opens his book by visiting the island again as an older man - the buildings are torn down and vandalized and the light is automated. The poem he shared at the end really struck home too: "The light I've tended for forty years,/ Is now to be run by a set of gears.../ And I wonder now, will the grass stay green?/ Will the brass stay bright and the windows clean?/ And will that automatic thing/ Plant marigolds in early spring?" How fortunate we are that people like Wass set down their thoughts and memories about lighthouses before everyone was gone who remembers.

Stars: 4