Children of the Lighthouse

Wyman had taken over his father’s job of lighting the range lights on the Coos Bay bar after Ira, his father, was drowned in a skiff wreck on the bar. He applied for permanent Lighthouse Keeper, and was accepted. Shortly after he and Ruth were married, the service sent them to Destruction Island, Washington, then Robinson Point on Vashon Island and back to Cape Argo. It was nice to have spent sixteen years here among relatives and friends before the service started transferring the family around. Now they had to pick up everything, and move to Turnpint, on Stewart Island in the San Juans (page 37).

Ruth had been objecting to Wyman accepting Captain Harvey’s offer to row him out to the freighter to pilot it into Coos Bay. He was the Harbor Pilot, the one who knew every rock, shallow and dangerous spot on the way in. He knew what tides to enter on, and where the treacherous tide pools spun. He would pay Wyman $20.00. It was a tempting offer, since a whole month’s salary with the Lighthouse Service was only $90.00 or there about. Ruth would have preferred to go with out the extra money than to suffer all day long not knowing what his fate might be. He and Captain Harvey launched the eighteen foot row boat in the alcove north of the footbridge. The curvature of the rocks on both sides may have served as some protection from the winds, but from the banks above, the sea appeared to be sending breakers crashing onto the beach with as great a fury as anywhere along the shore. The two men watched the sea to get its rhythm. When it retracted, and sent only a small breaker ashore, they ran the skiff into the surf and jumped in. Each of them manned an oar, and started rowing as hard as they could, to cross the breaker line before the next huge wave could crash.

Ruth had observed these launchings from the bank above many times, this time in driving rain. Babe Allen was bundled against her chest in heavy blankets, and Ila clung to her coat tail watching her daddy disappear into the sea. For many minutes they gazed after the men seeing them appear at the top of each wave, then dip into a trough out of sight for much too long a time. By a half mile out it was impossible to tell where they were without the telescope. They had to keep the bow headed into the wind so that the skiff could ride up each new wave without swamping. They arrived at the freighter, El Segundo, without mishap. After seeing Captain Harvey safely hoisted into boatswain’s chair up to the freighter deck, Wyman aimed the skiff toward shore and fought the sea alone for the return trip (page 34).

The lighthouse service asked Mr. Clement to move to the Smith Island Light Station. If you stepped forward to the edge of the front porch at Turnpoint, you could see the Smith Island light blink its code at you from the south. Ed would have preferred to remain under Wyman as Keeper, because he was just, fair, truthful, kind and honest. He had declared once, "Wyman, I love you -- but I hate your religion!" He was promoted to Keeper, and transferred to a light service where it was necessary to row a boat out to the range lights to light them. They were kerosene powered.

An especially bad storm broke just at sundown which was lighting time. It was allowable at this particular station to wait for severe storms to break into manageable seas to attempt lighting. But his sense of duty compelled him to go. Bessie begged him not to. The assistant keeper begged him not to, and perhaps others, but they could not restrain him. They knew as they gazed after him he’d never make it. Before their very eyes, the boat swamped, and it was days before his body was washed up on a beach miles away (page 43, 44).

It was the kind of day that would spin a web of beauty on the annals of time. Ruth headed to Prevost to pick up the mail, with Allen shuffling along beside. Trix and Towser ran joyously ahead up the leaf covered path that climbs up from the shore. Half way up the hill a wild jack rabbit, disturbed by the commotion, dashed out of hiding, and went leaping up the hill just ahead of Towser. How fortuitous for Towser, or was it? His nose was so close to the bunny’s tail that already he felt the pride of a grand hunter upon him. But alas! The bunny kicked out with two hind feet so hard that Towser ended up in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the hill. He picked himself up, shaking dirt and leaves, tail drooping, rabbit nowhere in sight, and mistress laughing at him -- the greatest clown on earth! [page 45]

By the opening of school in September of 1937, the Albee’s were moved into their residence at Yaquina Head, Agate Beach, Oregon. This tower was of the tall, picturesque type with 114 stairs in the staircase that spiraled to the lens room. It’s height was eighty-one feet.

Unique to this lighthouse was a giant mound that towered a few feet above and behind like a mysterious backdrop on the eastern skyline. A barbed wire fence curved its way up nearly to the top and across from South to North marking the reservation boundaries. This hillside is ablaze with the colors of the coastal wildflowers all summer long: Goldenrod, Queen Ann’s Lace, Indian Paint Brush, Iris, wild Sweet Peas, Oregon Grape, Daisies, California Poppies, blue and white vining Vetch and Bachelor Buttons, to name a few. A child could snuggle down among their stems escaping the cool sea breeze, warming body and soul with sun’s rays.

What a gorgeous place to live! The lighthouse tower was just tall enough to send the rotating light beams out to sea above the tree tops that protected the residence from the sharp ocean breezes or storms. Beyond this belt of weather gnarled firs, spruce, pine, huckleberry brush and salal, you stood on the edge of a half mile of deep, flowing, clean sand dunes. From the ridge, you could take a flying leap landing half way to the bottom of a sandy ravine causing a whole hillside of sand to move downward with you. In the bottom of the ravines were little yellow sand flowers and sometimes hard damp sand. Quicksand was possible and children could get lost in the miles and miles of dunes. Children were forbidden to go beyond the first ravine into which you could see the bottom from the edge of the woods. If Allen and Ila went the half mile out to the ocean, they had to be accompanied by Ellen, Lavinia, or mother. Otherwise, the first dune provided hours of delightful jumping and sliding. [page 51]