Before the Hour of Need

One year ago to the day, I journeyed to Pemaquid Point Lighthouse during a snowstorm. For there is something about the winter elements and lighthouses that I find myself irresistibly drawn to. Maybe it is the spectacle of an awe-inspiring sea or the feeling of inescapable isolation. Maybe it is the guiding light going forth into the unknown or the notion of steadfast vigilance personified so aptly by a lighthouse.

Maybe it is all of this and more. No matter. There was a storm afoot and I felt compelled to be there. To admire its beauty, to endure its frigid nuances, and be enthralled by the wonderment of it all.

The date was January 7, 2024 and out of the northeast did the gale swirl, dropping seven to ten inches of snow along the Maine coast. As I walked about the powdery white grounds of Pemaquid Point Lighthouse, little did I know that this storm – more traditional than epic in nature, was a harbinger of things to come mere days later.

In the moment, I traipsed gingerly along slippery rocks and ledge, and even journeyed up the 1835 lighthouse, to obtain different vantage points of marvelment’s unfolding. What a delight! However, an hour or so later, the cold temperatures were beginning to take their toll – it was time for me to retreat to warmer confines.

Before departing, I stopped to look around one last time. It was then that a single window along the south side of the 1897 bell tower – time-worn and captivating, caught my attention. Why, I do not know. The frosty panes were unassuming and I knew its wooden frame well. Still, I drew near and peered inside at history undisturbed.

Unbeknownst to me, I was standing in the presence of an historic light station structure right before its hour of need was to arise. Three days later on January 10, 2024, fate’s “bell” tolled one last time for this building during a harrowing southeast storm.

The maelstrom was ferocious – its reach, nearly unprecedented. The sheer volume of water that burgeoned without restraint proved astonishing, as waves over 40-feet in height buffeted the bell tower. Not once, but time and again.

In the face of such fury, the bell tower gave up the ghost and fell victim to a storm. Reports from other lighthouses were sparse directly thereafter, but what information was trickling in proved to be just as dire. Many other Maine light station structures suffered harm too. Disaster had struck the lighthouse community.

In the wake of the January 10th storm, I pondered further the destruction of the bell tower and its window into history, which prompted me to pen the following lines:

Time is constant, time is fleeting.
Time is everywhere, time is nowhere.

Windows into time are open
Windows into time are broken.

Time’s windows remain evermore.
Time’s windows emerge nevermore.

Peer into the windows of time while time permits,
For one day time will do what time does – a view forbid.

As if the January 10, 2024 storm was not enough, three days later, another southeast storm slammed the Maine coastline – once again during an astronomical high tide. The damage it caused was reminiscent of its predecessor. What the first mighty tempest did not destroy, the storm on the 13th finished off. Weakened structures were no match for this type of devastating storm surge and wave action.

Light stations all along the Maine coast were once again adversely impacted. There simply was no place for them to hide. The widespread harm forever changed the conversation and course of lighthouse preservation. In some cases, decades of restoration work was washed away in mere minutes or hours.

Where storm fury struck, there, a sense of place was forever altered. Even critical access to these historic realms was not spared. There was no going back for lighthouse stewards. The same holds true for the state’s coastal communities and working waterfronts.

Lighthouses, for all their wonder, are really part of a grander ballad whose verses and harmonies enliven the hearts of many amidst the interplay of land and sea. These timeless guardians symbolize life along the coast – alluring in every facet, but always on the edge.

Henceforth from January 2024, the discourse surrounding lighthouses is no longer confined to preservation and education. These pillars still matter – and always will, but without a commitment to mitigating storm hazards and making historic light stations more resilient against the ravaging effects of severe storms and rising sea levels, what we hold dear may indeed disappear.

As lighthouse preservationists, perhaps we should have embarked on this collective journey some time ago, but there is no time for regret. What was, is. What will be, remains firmly in our hands to determine. Its name is opportunity. The key to unlocking its vast potential is action fueled by a relentless passion to chart a new course.

As a populace, our time to shine is here. So let’s do what we can, while we can. For lighthouses need each of us now more than ever – our time, our skills, and most of all, our can-do spirit as we reimagine a sustainable future for lighthouses.

Why? There are a multitude of reasons to act. For humanity, for our communities, for the fabric of who we are as individuals. As it relates to lighthouses, I have come to learn this:

The most glowing aspect of lighthouses is not their beauty or majesty – nor their record of unblemished service. For there is more to lighthouses than charm and knowledge. Quite possibly, the most shimmering facet about lighthouses is their mystique. For everything about a lighthouse seems immersed in abstruseness. And we would have it no other way!

For lighthouses are always looking onward – presiding over time’s relentless expansion upon the deep with a sense of unchanging watchfulness. Each night, their guiding gleams go forth – never to return from whence they came.

Forward! Always forward is a lighthouse impelling the navigator. And so too the hearts of those who ply not the briny blue, but rather, people of all nations who seek the strength and ardor these venerable guardians exude. Despite their age, lighthouses are not lost in time – nor do they resist the future. Not at all. In fact, they show the way to a brighter tomorrow with a gleam irresistible!

Lighthouses are enduring treasures and the leading torchbearers of our nearshore continuum. The time to keep and strengthen this precious continuum is always in the present. Today. If this continuum were to be sundered, any bids to mend it thereafter would prove to no avail. Our hearts cannot bear such a fate, so shine we must in the here and now. For within lighthouses, the grand echoes of eternity abide – and so too our efforts.

From my visit to Pemaquid Point Lighthouse on January 7, 2024, to the conclusion of the second storm on January 13, a lot changed. I just happened to be at a light station before its hour of need. I could not have possibly known what could – and would happen next, but I know now. We all know now.

What we do next to make lighthouses more resilient in the face of a changing climate is up to us. The future of lighthouses depends on it!