Island in Time
There was a time when those who tended the guiding light on this grand island walked this way. Up and down. Not once and done, but dependably and duty-bound. Keepers such as Jellison, Ingalls and Kenney – Small, Morrison and Quinn too. These were steps to home, steps marched in the service to others at St. Croix River Light Station.
A light nestled between two nations – a light that stood on ground made renowned by Pierre Dugua, Sieur de Mons and Samuel Champlain. Ground destined to be ill-fated for the 1604 French settlement known as L'Isle Sainte Croix. Upon a river winding do mysteries from this epoch still flow toward bays steeped in legend. Passamaquoddy and Fundy are their names. No more need be said.
St. Croix River is now one of Maine’s ghost lights – lost to fire during our nation’s bicentennial year and thereby bound to elusiveness on the ebb tide of memory. A U.S. Lighthouse Service boathouse and boundary marker yet cling to the island, but time is intent on erasing any foundational remains upon which this heritage was built.
Much in the way of history resides forevermore at the St. Croix Island International Historic Site. As the years fall away, tangible evidence from long ago has become scarce, but the spirit of its remarkable passage is still keenly felt. What was in the past is honored in the present. Silently and sincerely. And somewhere in time, the lighthouse keepers are still retracing their steps and lighting the light.
