"We had a comfortable home in New York State near to where many more of our neighbors who came with us lived. Strang himself, with two more apostles, were traveling through the country preaching and telling about the rich beautiful country they had found. We went to hear them, and, like many others, were greatly pleased. Strang did most of the talking himself. He was a brilliant talker. He had such a bright, cheerful manner we were won from the first. We sold our home, the other neighbors doing the same, and in a short time started for the 'Promised Land.' When we reached here we found nothing as it had been represented to us. The island was in its wild natural state. A few had cleared some land and were struggling along the best they could. Our first winter was a hard one, and I cannot bear to think how sadly we were disappointed. When I asked Strang why we had not been told the truth he always turned it off in some way, talking so encouragingly and always making us see the brightest side. Life became busy, as we had a large family dependent upon us. We had some money saved and bought this land and built this house, which you see is large and comfortable. Our children were sent to school and we were beginning to feel quite contented. I often went to hear Strang preach, but I did not feel satisfied, his doctrine did not sound the same as he told it to us before we left our old home, and he was having so many 'New Revelations' that I soon lost what little belief I had ever had in the doctrine. Somehow it was different from what my old family Bible taught me, but I said very little about it at first, although a few of us women used to say Strang had too many revelations to be true. He never spoke anything to me about them, but often spoke to other women he called upon. Very soon he preached in the temple that he had a new revelation that all the apostles and officers in the Church of Zion must take more wives, and had already taken more himself. This preaching stirred us women up, as he had preached before against polygamy, and about this time I found the king was urging my husband to accept a high office in the church. I called upon the king, asking if this was all true that we heard. He answered in a very decided tone, 'Yes, it is true, and the law will be enforced if you do not quietly submit.' I told him I would never submit or consent to another woman coming into my house while I lived. He said, 'You are not yet high enough in the faith to understand the true meaning of being sealed to spiritual wives.' Well, I tell you I was mad. I went home, and in a few days I joined with several other women. We went to the temple, I carrying my family Bible, and there we faced the King. We women talked faster than he could. He tried to have us stopped but could not. You know how it all ended; I was sorry to see him killed, yet I knew something terrible would happen to him and I told him so when I talked that day. I said such things cannot go on any longer. All these homes would not be empty had Strang lived according to the doctrine he preached to us before we sold our old homes and came here; we would have been a happy, contented people, but his teachings were all false from beginning to end, and he has suffered the same fate of Joseph Smith, whose example he followed. I know there were bad men influencing him to do all this. It might have been for the purpose of getting rid of him so they themselves could take his place. It is all ended and I am glad I never knew anything more about Mormonism than I have since I came here."
At the time the Mormons left the island the temple was left standing. The excitement was so great and the Gentiles feared the Mormons might return with another leader in Strang's place, so they thought best to burn the temple. It was of the exact pattern as the one at Kirtland, Ohio, as Strang had built it after the same plans. The building was all up and inclosed, but not yet finished. The large room used for preaching was also used for the council room.
In my rides about the island there were many narrow paths in every direction and the young growth of trees made it almost impossible to pass through. We would come upon many little log cabins in the dense woods with no clearing except a small yard and I wondered why this was so. I was told these were some of the places where they used to secrete stolen goods, it being such an out-of-the-way place and in the dense woods no one would expect to find a house. One of the band of "Forty Thieves" who lived with us a few months after I was married and keeping house, told us there were many such places about that locality of Rocky Mountain, or Indian Point as it has always been called late years, where goods could be hid and they could hide themselves so as not to be found by any stranger. The very mention of the band of "Forty Thieves" struck terror to people's hearts in the days of Mormon rule. There were rumors of many dark deeds done by that band of highwaymen, or pirates as they were sometimes called. It was common talk among Gentiles, and told us by some of their own people who were not very loyal to the king, that vessels were plundered and the crews never heard from. Of course this none of us knew to be true, yet a great many things happened to lead us to think that it might be a possibility. When my people came back to the island there was still a great quantity of goods left stored away in some houses up in that part called "Enoch," about one mile distant from the harbor. There were several boxes of shoes, some crates of dishes partly full, screen cupboards, furniture, chairs and tables. One small house was almost full of stoves. All these goods were new and did not seem to have been damaged. The people who came had helped themselves to all they wanted and wondered where all the goods came from. This helped to make the rumors prove more true that vessels had been plundered and the crews killed. One of our lake captains told me he had a brother who was last seen at Beaver harbor. The vessel and crew were never heard from and no one knew their fate. Of course when Strang's people were getting so bold, doing what they did, taking everything from the fishermen, it could easily be believed they would plunder vessels if a good opportunity came.
Many have been the hours spent, and days even, by people hunting to find the hull of a schooner which was said to have been sunk off Little Sand Bay, myself among the rest, and several times we were sure we could see the hull of the vessel lying at the bottom of the lake several rods from shore. We often went rowing and sailing in that direction and we were sure to say, "Let's look for the wreck." I asked the young man that boarded with us about it, as he had once been a member of the "Secret Society." I said, "Is it true? Has there been such things done?" He said, "If only these stones could talk they would tell you of some things that would horrify you, and though I am free from Mormon rule, I would not dare to tell you some things which our band was sworn to do. We were trained for our work and were known among ourselves as the 'Secret Society.' It meant sure death to any of us to betray anything pertaining to our business." He was only eighteen at the time he joined the "Secret Society." He often had spells of great sadness and many nights walked the floor because he could not sleep. Once I said to him. "Did the King ever give you orders what to do?" He said. "At first the orders were given our captains by the King, but it was not long before we never waited for orders from headquarters. We did what we found to do. It was the intention that Strang should own and rule the whole territory about these islands and mainland as fast as he could get his people scattered about to possess the whole. Strang got too busy making laws that did not suit many of the women, which was one cause of the ill-feeling among his people."
In one of my rides with Mary we went to the place called "Rocky Mountain Point," where the forty thieves had their rendezvous. It was a lonely place, with the waves rolling in over the rocky shore where we went to the beach and the woods were dense. I had heard so many stories of the Mormons' doings there I felt afraid and told Mary I wanted to hurry away, which we did as fast as our horses could travel through the path. When we came to "Page Town" then the spell was broken. No one could look upon this beautiful place and feel fear. The view is grand out over the water to the neighboring islands and the evergreens are most beautiful. "Page Town" is just on the Lake Michigan side of Font Lake. We could see the Johnson House as we rested on the bank of the lake. There were about a dozen houses scattered about, some right near the bank and others back in among the evergreens. It was named in honor of Mr. Page, who first built his house there with several of his relatives. The location is most beautiful. At this spot Lake Michigan is not quite a half mile from Font Lake.
The land is a little rolling going out to Font Lake, which gives it a most beautiful view all about. The road was good to the portage. We rode around by the Station Hill, a station put there for government survey, and is a most beautiful place for a look-out, with its white sandy beach and clear water sparkling in the sunlight. During my stay on the island that was always a favorite place to go for a quiet, restful stroll, and our summer visitors never failed to visit Station Hill. There Garden Island, with its lovely green trees, was a pleasant view.
From there Mary and I turned our horses' heads toward the point to visit the light keeper and his wife. They were a dear old couple. They would not let us go before we had tea with them. Their children were all married but one daughter. She was visiting with her sister, Mrs. E. Kanter, in Detroit, and expected to remain there for the winter. The old couple had a young boy named Anthony Frazier living with them. Their home was a marvel of neatness. Their name was Granger. He had been light-keeper at Bois Blanc, near Mackinac Island. His son had taken his place and Mr. Lyman Granger had come to take charge of Beaver Island harbor light, just erected the year before. They took us in the tower to see the lamp It was in beautiful order. Mrs. Granger seeing to the polishing of the lamp and fixtures herself. A few years later I was married and lived neighbor to them until they left the light-house. Then Mr. Peter McKinley was appointed keeper, where he remained nine years with his two young daughters, Effie and Mary. He lost his health soon after his appointment, but the girls took charge of the light house and were faithful to their charge during the whole time of their stay, finally resigning to go away.
There were always good schools at the island, having several teachers from the city at different times. I will mention a few of our city and island teachers. The city teachers were Miss Ann E. Granger, Detroit; Clara Holcomb, Fremont, Ohio; Miss Belle and Hattie Buckland, Buffalo, N. Y.; Miss J. Voas and Miss J. V. Wilkes, both of Buffalo, N. Y. Our island teachers were C. R. Wright, Michael F. O'Donnell, Miss Effie McKinley, Miss Sarah O'Malley, Miss Sarah J. Gibson, Miss Annie Gibson, and many others. There were two brothers. Charles and George Gillett, of Detroit, Mich. They came several summers. Both were fine musicians. They were sure to be on our first boat in the spring, remaining until fall. One spring Charles came alone. The younger brother had died during the winter. We missed his pleasant face and sweet music. When the other brother returned home that fall he took a bride with him, marrying Miss Clara Holcomb, of Fremont, Ohio. Life on the island was never dull. Our summer friends were pleasant, friendly people, making the life happier by their coming. Good books were sent us for winter reading, and many little tokens of remembrance were often sent us. We gladly hailed the first boat in the spring because it always brought some friends from the outside world.
I was again on board the steamer Michigan. The same captain, the same crew; Jane, the cabin maid was there with her pleasant smile. There were several passengers from Green Bay going to Mackinac Island, for it was payment time. Among the passengers was Mr. Scott, of Green Bay, who once lived at Mackinac Island. Another was Mr. Michael Dousman, he being another that had lived many years on Mackinac Island. His home then being in Milwaukee. When we landed at Mackinac Island the entire beach from Mission House Point to the place where the "Grand" now stands was filled with a row of Indian wigwams.
There were Indians wearing their blankets and the women dressed in bright gay colors with their papooses strapped on their backs in their Indian cradles. The cradles were trimmed with gay colored ribbons. Dogs and children were all mixed up together. Many squaws were pounding Indian corn to make soup for their supper. The streets near the water at Mackinac looked very bright in their gay colors. Indian women and their children were strolling and chatting together looking at the bright colored goods, while the men were most of the time walking about the streets wrapped in their white blankets, they talking together in low tones. Perhaps telling about how their grandfathers had met for councils of war at this same place so many years before.
The island was just as beautiful as ever. It was early spring time when I saw it last with the straits full of floating ice. Now the grass was green and the trees were in autumn dress with the beautiful evergreens mixed in among the pretty colored leaves of maple and birch. The crisp autumn air gave new life after a hot summer. It had been a busy season with summer visitors and a few had lingered for payment time.
My visit of a month was greatly enjoyed and I returned to Beaver Island, entering school at once. Our winter was a cold one, with heavy ice in the lake, but the next spring we had the steamer Michigan in our harbor on April first. There was still drifting ice, fishing soon began and the summer was a busy one, with many summer visitors. Our island people were very happy not to be disturbed any more by the Mormons or have their property stolen.
There were several Irish families that came as soon as the Mormons left, and more soon followed. They bought the land and made themselves homes. Among those that came was our genial friend Capt. Roddy, so well known all over Northern Michigan. He was a true sailor, owning several sailing crafts at different times, also owning a very fine farm on the island. He lived there a number of years. He died leaving his family very comfortable. Many of the people who came to the island bought land and took some of the houses the Mormons had left that were around the harbor and moved them to other locations, so that in a few years the island was changed in its appearance by the buildings being taken away from where they had been. Soon there were enough people to support a church, then a Catholic Priest came, and by subscription a church was built, the Protestants helping. Rev. Father Murray was the first priest stationed there. He was a very social and kind hearted man. After him came Rev. Father Gallagher, a young student just from college. His former home was Philadelphia. He made many improvements to the church building, devoting his whole time to his people. He was a jolly social man and a great entertainer. He passed away after a useful life of thirty-two years service. His remains were taken to his native city, Philadelphia, for interment.
Mr. Robert Gibson and wife came to the island the spring of 1858, buying the property of the old Mormon printing office, converting it into a hotel known ever since as "The Gibson House." Its doors have been open to guests up to the present. Mr. Gibson died some years ago, since which time his widow, Mrs. Julia Gibson, with her family, have continued the business with success.
The "King Strang Cottage" has gone to ruin. What little there was left of it after summer visitors had carried away pieces as relics took fire and burned.
Capt. Bundy with his gospel ship "Glad Tidings" often came to our harbor and sailing around other parts of the shores and islands in later years holding religious services among the people.
Soon after our return to the island after the going away of the Mormons I became acquainted with a lady that had come to the island just a few weeks before Strang was shot. She came to visit her brother. She was a nurse. She told me what a sad time it was to those people when their king was shot. Some would not believe until they saw him. Soon after Strang was carried home the doctor sent a messenger to this lady to come and take charge of the sick room, as no one else could be found capable, all being in such an excited state of mind. She said, "When I reached Strang's home I found him resting under an opiate. His wounds had been dressed. The doctor was sitting beside the bed. I knew him well and he motioned me to a seat. I went across the hall into another room, hearing the sounds of crying and sobbing. There I saw the four wives with several neighbor women all in a sorrowful state of mind. There was one that sat by herself by an open window looking out over the water. She was silent and quiet with a far away look in her eyes. I motioned to the rest to be quiet, as I feared it would disturb the sick man. I went close and spoke to the quiet woman. She was the one called 'Douglas,' the favorite wife. Strang often called her Charley. I told her why I had come, that I had been sent for. She roused herself up, saying, 'Oh yes, now I remember some one is needed in the sick room.' She seemed to be almost in a dream. I said to her, 'This may not be so bad. He may get well.' She shook her head, her lips quivered, then she spoke in low tones to me, saying, 'No, he says himself he can't get well and he wants the doctor to take him away from the island.' She stopped a moment and then went on, 'He wants to go to his wife in Wisconsin. He says he must go. The doctor told him he had better not go, but his mind is made up to go. And I think it is best, but the rest don't think so,' meaning the other three women. She told me where I could find everything I needed. There were soon large crowds gathering about the house, women were wringing their hands and sobbing aloud. The quiet woman went out among them, telling them they must be quiet and not disturb the sick man, but they did not seem to know what she said. They acted as if they were dazed. The doctor went out and explained to them that they must be quiet. Some of them went away, others sat down on the grass, sobbing quietly, seeming almost heartbroken. I was in the room when Strang awoke. The doctor was near him. The first words he spoke were, 'Doctor can I go? Will a boat soon come to take me home to my wife?' His voice was strong. The doctor answered, 'We will think about this later.' 'No doctor I must go, I cannot die here on the island. I must go to my wife and children. I must see her before I die. I can't get well, I know it, and I know she will forgive me.' His voice was pleading. It was hard for the doctor to know just what to do or say to him. I soon went to him with some drink. He looked straight in my face saying, 'Tell the doctor I must go home to my wife and children. I am going to die.' Then after a few moments of quietness he exclaimed, 'If I had only heeded her counsel this would not have happened.' His pleadings never ceased until the doctor said. 'Yes. I will take you.' Such a look of joy came over his face and the great tears started from his eyes. The quiet woman came and took his hand and wiped away the tears, but he seemed not to see her. He repeated several times, 'I am going home to Mary.' His eyes had a far away look and his mind was not dwelling on the daily cares, and he took no interest in anything about the house. He never mentioned anything about the business of the temple, as his only desire was to live until he reached his wife. This quiet woman that seemed so much to him before was nothing to him now. Her sorrow was great but she bore it quietly and helped in the preparations to make him comfortable on his journey, knowing she would never see him again in this life. Four days after he was wounded he was carried on board the steamer. The scene was a sorrowful one; everybody came to see their King who had taught them no harm could come to him. Strang was calm and quiet through it all, for to him they only seemed as passing friends. His thoughts were not of earth and his lips moved often as if in prayer. He stood the journey well, and the kind and loving wife freely forgave him as he died in her arms. He suffered much, but bore it bravely, seeming perfectly satisfied to be at home with his true wife."
The light-keeper Mr. Granger, had given up his position as a keeper, Mr. Peter McKinley succeeding him. I was now married to Mr. Van Riper and living very near the light-house. My husband had come from Detroit for his health. After we were married he started a large cooper shop at the Point, employing several men in the summer season. My father had now moved into the "Strang House," as the King's house was always called by the islanders. Up to this time no one had ever lived in it since the King's death. Somehow no one cared to live in it, but father and mother found it very comfortable and pleasant. There were more people coming to the island all the time to settle, buying farms. The "Johnson House" was now taken down and moved on some farm. All the houses between Strang's house and Enoch had been taken down. We found the light-keeper and his daughters very kind neighbors. The two girls and myself were like sisters as time went on.
There was no doctor at that time on the island. When anything serious happened the people had a doctor come from Mackinac Island and later from Charlevoix.
Our mails came by ice in winter from Mackinac Island, a distance of fifty miles. When our mail carrier came with the pouches full we were like a hungry lot of people, as often we were without mail for a month or six weeks. Work was laid aside until the letters and papers were read, then for several days news was discussed among us. Good news was enjoyed by everybody and sad news was sadness for all. In later years our mail route was changed in winter to Cross Village, distant about twenty-five miles. Both Indians and white men were engaged in carrying it, using dogs with sleds as the mail grew heavier, with more inhabitants coming. Winter was the time for social amusements. We usually had fine ice for skating, which was enjoyed by both old and young, women, as well as men.
The merchants laid in a good stock of everything necessary in the fall, but many times people ran short of provisions, then other neighbors divided with them.
In the sixties Charlevoix people came to Beaver Island to do much of their trading, going back and forth in small boats. All travelling had to be done by water. People felt no fear. We were going from island to island in summer time. In those days at Little Traverse, now Harbor Springs, there were just a few white settlers, with one or two stores. In the early fifties Mr. Richard Cooper started a store and another was kept by the "Wendells" of Mackinac Island. Many Mackinac Island people took their families every summer for several years to the Gull islands, that being a fine fishing ground. Thousands of dollars worth of fish were caught there. Beaver Harbor was then the center for trade. Near to reach. "The boats were our carriages, the wind our steeds." Sometimes there were accidents and many were drowned, still people had to live, and their work was on the water most of the time.
The winter of 1861 my husband and I went to Milwaukee to spend the winter. Mr. C. R. Wright was elected to the State Legislature at Lansing that winter, his family spending the winter in Fairport, Ohio. We all returned to the island in springtime. My parents had now gone back to Traverse City to live. Frank, my adopted brother, had enlisted as a drummer boy at the beginning of the Civil War.
In July of 1862 my husband was appointed as a Government school teacher to the Indians at Garden Island. The school was a large one as there was a large band of Indians. Our school continued for two years, then was discontinued for several years before another teacher was sent among them. That two years was a busy life for us both. The Government furnished seeds of all kinds for their gardens, flower seeds as well to beautify their homes. We were expected to teach them how to plant and cultivate their gardens and farms. They learned rapidly to make their gardens, to plant corn and vegetables, but these little flower seeds, they could not manage them. Chief Peain was a very social, intelligent man. He watched the process of making the flower beds and the putting in of the small seeds. Then he said, "Too much work for Indian." He then took many of the boys and girls with some of the older ones to help clearing off three or four acres of land, put a brush fence around it, they then took the flower seeds of the different kinds, sowing them like grain and raked them in. Well, such a flower garden was never seen! There was every flower in the catalogue growing up together, and never were flowers enjoyed as those Indians enjoyed that flower garden. Every day at all hours could be seen both old and young going out to look at the bright flowers. Old grandmothers with the little grand children would sit in the shade near the flowers and work the pretty beads on the deerskin moccasins while the children played and amused themselves. As soon as school was over then the race began for the flower garden. And it was a pleasure to us to see them so happy. It was called "The Chief's Garden." He was greatly pleased with the bright flowers, and had us write a letter of thanks to the Indian agent for him.
We always had several friends visiting us from Milwaukee and other cities, which made the time seem all too short. I often look back to that two years of my life and feel that my time was not wasted.
Soon after I was married Alexander Wentworth, one of the men that shot Strang, boarded with us for several weeks. He came back to the island to visit and see how things were prospering. He was a fine looking and intelligent man, very quiet in his manner. We had several other boarders at the same time, people who came to see King Strang's Island. Alec, as they always called him, was their guide to show them the best fishing streams and take them to hunt ducks and wild pigeons. I often talked with Wentworth about the shooting of Strang, asking him if he had any regrets about what he had done. He said, "I have never yet regretted what I did. The Mormon life was bad, and there was no good in it as I can see and I would not live it over again for anything." The place he liked to go best was to little Font Lake to the "Johnson House," his wife's old "Island Home." This had been the second season he came. After that he never came again and we never heard from him any more.
The winter of 1865 we spent a very pleasant winter in Northport, the next winter in Charlevoix, where we had built us a new home on Bridge street. We sold and returned again to the island, engaging in the fishing business quite extensively for a few years.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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, 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.
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.
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.
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.