Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 102280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
“How did your day go?” Martha asked, accepting his kiss on the cheek.
“Not bad. I replaced some corroded wiring in the beacon housing.” He glanced at Lily. “How did things go at school?”
“Well. I received my senior research project assignment, and I picked the lighthouse.”
Robert’s expression shifted in a way that mirrored her mother’s earlier reaction—surprise, followed by caution. “The lighthouse?”
“It's history. The keeper families, construction, that sort of thing.” Lily watched his face carefully. “Mr. Davidson thought it made a good topic because you work there.”
“It is a good topic,” Robert said slowly. “Lots of history there.”
“Mom mentioned you may have access to old records I could examine.”
Robert set down his toolbox and pulled out a chair. “There might be some maintenance logs from the transition period. When they automated the systems.”
“When did that happen?”
“1983. The Aldrich clan had been there for generations, but the Coast Guard decided it was more efficient to automate the beacon and foghorn.”
“What happened to them?”
Robert and Martha exchanged a look that lasted just a moment too long. “Gerald stayed on as the keeper even after automation,” Robert said. “He adapted to the changes, but they’re still very much involved with operations.”
“Gerald still lives in town,” he added. “His son Winston is the mayor now. You could probably interview Gerald if you wanted a firsthand account of the keeping days.”
“That would be great.” Lily made a note. “Do you think he’d be willing to talk to me?”
“I’m sure he would,” Robert said, but his tone suggested he wasn’t entirely certain. “Just remember, Lily, that it has been part of people’s lives for a long time. Some of those memories might be complicated.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it wasn’t always an easy life. Isolated, dangerous work. And when the automation happened, it meant the end of a way of life that had lasted for generations.” Robert grabbed the salt shaker. “People might have strong feelings about that.”
Lily nodded, understanding. The shift to automation had probably been traumatic for people who’d built their entire identity around tending the light. That angle could provide compelling research, especially if she could interview people who’d lived through the change.
“Could I come out there with you sometime?” she asked. “Maybe tomorrow after school? I’d like to take some photographs, maybe see if any old records are still stored there.”
Robert hesitated. “I suppose that would be all right. But we’d have to be careful not to disturb anything. Gerald maintains strict security protocols, and the Coast Guard still owns the property.”
“I just want to look around, maybe take some notes.”
“All right then. Tomorrow after school.”
The conversation moved to other topics—Martha’s book club, weekend plans, the unseasonably warm weather. But Lily noticed that her parents seemed subdued, as if her research topic had introduced uncertainty into their usual dinner routine.
After helping with the dishes, she retreated to her room to review her notes and plan her next steps. The beacon swept past her window every thirty seconds, as it had for as long as she could remember. But tonight, instead of comfort, it reminded her of all the questions she hadn’t yet asked.
Who were the Aldrich keepers?
What had their daily life been like?
How had they felt when forced to adapt to new technology while staying in the only home their clan had known for generations?
And why did her parents seem so hesitant about her research?
She made notes to start with the basics—construction records, shipping logs, newspaper accounts of storms and rescues. The human stories would come later once she’d established the historical foundation.
But as she settled into bed, Lily found herself thinking about the people who’d lived in the keeper’s house. Children who’d grown up beneath the towering structure, adults who’d made the nightly journey to maintain the beacon, entire generations who’d built their lives around the rhythm of ships and storms.
She fell asleep thinking about fog and light, and the burden of responsibility that came with standing watch over dangerous waters.
The next afternoon, Lily climbed into Robert’s truck with her camera, notebook, and growing anticipation. The structure looked different as they approached—not a distant landmark she’d seen her entire life, but an actual place with doors and windows, stairs and rooms.
“The keeper’s house is mostly empty now,” Robert explained as he parked near the base of the tower. “Gerald uses it for storage, and I keep some tools there. But the main structure is identical to what it was when the Aldriches lived there.”
The white tower rose eighty feet above them, its red roof brightening the gray sky. Up close, Lily could see weathering on the stone foundation, newer concrete patches where workers had made repairs over the years. This building had withstood 152 New England winters, countless storms, and the corrosive effects of salt air.
“Can we go inside the tower?” she asked.