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Back The Lighthouse Save as PDF
Chapters (50)
  1. PART ONE
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 8
  9. 9
  10. 10
  11. 11
  12. PART TWO
  13. 12
  14. 14
  15. 15
  16. 16
  17. 18
  18. 19
  19. 21
  20. 22
  21. 23
  22. 24
  23. 25
  24. 26
  25. 27
  26. 28
  27. 30
  28. 31
  29. 32
  30. 33
  31. 34
  32. 35
  33. 36
  34. 37
  35. 38
  36. 39
  37. 40
  38. 41
  39. 42
  40. 43
  41. PART THREE
  42. 44
  43. 45
  44. 46
  45. 47
  46. 49
  47. 50
  48. 51
  49. 52
  50. EPILOGUE

Few thought it could even be done. Indeed, when I first formed the Seabrook Lighthouse Preservation Committee and announced my lofty goal of restoring the decrepit tower to her original, nineteenth-­century condition, the plans were met with a chorus of skepticism. I wasn’t surprised. After all, the council had been at a stalemate for decades over the issue. Some considered it an exorbitant waste of money; spending millions on such a folly couldn’t be justified, they said, not when there were more pressing matters to be addressed. And there were of course the superstitious few who brought up old ghost stories from the past, claiming that hell and damnation would rain down upon the town if anyone dared step through the door. Mustn’t disturb Theodore’s spirit, they cried out—for anyone who did would surely feel the lighthouse keeper’s wrath!

But despite the opposition, despite the endless debates and bureaucratic red tape, I pushed on undeterred, and not only did I generate a groundswell of support, but I also managed to convince the powers-that-be—through a very impassioned speech, I might add—that the heart of Seabrook was at stake, that our crumbling tower wasn’t just a relic from the past but a beacon for the future, a towering monument that urgently needed to be saved. Countless meetings and fundraising drives were to follow before the restoration work could begin, but the fact that we’ve finally reached this moment, that our precious lighthouse is now on the cusp of her rebirth, at last ready to reveal herself to the world, fills me with enormous pride.

•••

A grand celebration was put on for the unveiling. Seabrook’s beach was transformed into a parade of festivity with thousands gathered along the shoreline to enjoy the food and live entertainment. For the ceremony itself, as official guest of honor, I was escorted by the mayor onto a podium in front of the tower, where I made a few remarks and cut a giant blue ribbon with a pair of equally oversized scissors. A giant holographic curtain had been keeping the building hidden—­technology that I admit I’m far too old to understand—but the effect, when the curtain magically came down, made for a dramatic unveiling. The tower, in all her grandeur, was suddenly revealed for all to see, and even I was taken aback at how marvelous she looked. Her walls, now solid and lustrously white, rose boldly to the sky, her lamp room glistened behind newly minted glass, and her dome sat proudly at the top, painstakingly restored, freshly painted in its original navy blue.

“Heaven’s above,” I said, stunned by her beauty.

The mayor gazed up in wonder, equally impressed. “For 232 years old, she scrubs up pretty well, wouldn’t you say?”

“She most certainly does.”