THE RAINBOW'S END

MON AMI

(A Chef, A Lighthouse and A Winery)

(another serendipity moment)

I was richly rewarded from the archives of the Lakeside Heritage Society. The materials within held much information and filled in some of the gaps in the collection. When we began sorting through the letters we noticed one addressed to Edward Herman from the Captain of the U.S.S. Morrill. Opening it up we read these words, penned in the scroll of Victorian elegance.

"U.S.S. Morrill
Detroit Mich

Jan 3-1908


Mr. E. Herman,
Dear friend I want to inform you the Master - of - Arms job will probably
Be vacant. Captain Landry has ordered me to write & inquire if you
Would Like to accept the job.
The pay is now $45.00 per month. Shaws time is up the 14TH . Let me
Know at once whether you want to accept the job or not.”

Yes, Edward had been the Master-At-Arms. He had served in that position well enough to be considered a “friend” of the ship’s captain. His response was not among the papers in the archives at Lakeside. It did not matter. His response for history was well documented by the 30 years he served as the Lighthouse Keeper. He never returned to the ships of the inland seas.

I did not find my answer to the bi-plane mystery. Another well informed archivist from the Sandusky Public Library could not identify the plane and no one had ever seen the photograph in any other records or archives. Though I did not learn the identity of the plane I did learn much more. I learned how much the lighthouse meant to so many people and how excited they were to learn about this project.

The final night of our visit we went to dinner at Mon Ami, a restaurant and winery on Catawba Island. An old structure with an equally old and rich history, having once housed Confederate prisoners, it had withstood many changes in history’s mountain. As we finished our dinner our server brought to our table the head chef for the restaurant and winery. He had been told about my project and my great uncle by the server. He offered to give us a tour of the wine cellar. Then he proceeded to tell us how much the Marblehead Lighthouse meant to him. When he was not being a chef he was sailing ships. He still used the light for navigation. It was a symbol for him that he was near to his final destination; his return to home.

When we went down into the wine cellar there stood a huge wine barrel, large enough for a person to stand inside. It was old, dating back to the 1800’s. It still smelled of the wine once held within its staves. The history of the barrel was a story long and rich in detail. They do not make them like this anymore the chef said. The wood was from the white oak tree. He did not know where it had been obtained. Silently, I stood there in the presence of my own past and knew that I did. I knew because I had grown up on an island, ravaged by the hunters of this wood. And now, I was standing before the very tree I never knew, because it had been extinct, wiped out and forever gone on that island of my childhood. But though it did not live, its history was not lost. It had been saved deep in the darkness of an ancient wine cellar. And, there on an island in the inland sea because someone had thought to save this one barrel, I was able to breathe not only the sweet smell of a past, but also my own history as well.

THE GOLDEN POT

The day of recording the materials in the Lakeside Heritage archives had been long and now we were finished. It was time to say our goodbyes and return to Texas. I felt complete and content. I had walked on the path of lighthouse keepers and had met Edward hand in hand. Our lives had come full circle after that first meeting fifty years before. I no longer sat on a stool at his feet. Instead, I stood with him and he had walked with me on this journey. He had become my soul mate of antiquity. As we opened the door to leave the archives I noticed something to the east. A huge, brilliant rainbow shinned down over the lake and ended at the Marblehead lighthouse. I knew then that my childhood letters had been answered. And that Edward was very, very pleased with his great niece.

POSTSCRIPT

History’s story is never finished. Indeed, the best chapter is the one not yet written. That day in August when I opened the Marblehead Lighthouse log book for the first time there was recorded all the names of the keepers and the dates they began and ended. Edward M. Herman’s name was the last listed. The date he began at Marblehead was filled in; however, the date he ended was left blank. Perhaps it is a fitting testament to both a lighthouse and one man’s history. There will never be a final chapter and the best one has not yet been written.





This project is:
In memory of Captain Edward M. and Margaret King Herman.
In honor of Delbert Lawrence, Richard Lawrence, Delcia Ackerman.
In recognition of all Lighthouse Keepers and their spouses.
For Charles Herman and Alfred Herman
Thanks to all who thought to save the memorabilia in this collection and special thanks to Lois Derby, Edward’s niece who generously shared her own memories and photographs.
And, to Michael Lawrence-Weden who digitally photographed all the material for this project.