When I was about eight years old, I went on a trip to a beach, with my sister, my parents and my cousins with their parents.
That trip happened a long time ago, but there were a few things about it that have stood out in my mind for much of my adult life. One was the lighthouse. I remember seeing it on the left side of the road as we entered the parking area. It was open to the public, with an admission fee. I being who I am wanted to go inside the lighthouse and climb to the top, but my parents wouldn't let me.
The other thing I remember about that trip is losing my blue ball to the lake. The way I remembered it, someone threw the ball and it went into the water. My dad remembers it differently - he says nobody threw the ball into the lake; instead me and my cousin were playing with it when the wind caught it and blew it into the water. However it actually happened, I do remember standing on the beach watching my ball floating away in the water, and none of the adults would go into the water and bring it back for me. I lost my ball that day and was very sad and upset about it.
Throughout much of my adult life I did not know where this beach was but I had come to believe that it was at Point Pelee, and that the lake I remembered was Lake Erie. Those boyhood images remained in my memory and in recent weeks began to draw me. I had to go back to that beach again; I had to see that lighthouse again. Those memories were taking on an obsessive quality - perhaps it was a feature of the mid-life crisis I'm supposed to be having.
A couple of weeks ago I dragged J and her mom out with me to Point Pelee. I was going to find that beach!
I did not. However, I began to realize that perhaps the beach of my memory was not at Point Pelee. There were certain signs that just did not add up. But if not Point Pelee then where was that lighthouse? Did it even exist at all outside my memory?
I did some digging on the internet looking for lighthouses. I found one that suggested a likely location - Point Clark, which is at Lake Huron and not at Lake Erie. I picked the memories of my sister and parents - did they even remember that trip? They did! Everything they recalled about it lent credibility to my new theory about its location. My sister said the name Point Clark resonated with her as soon as I said it - she was sure that was it. She also suggested to me that perhaps I was still trying to get back my ball. Whatever my subconscious motivation might have been, one thing I knew - my inner child was seeking my cooperation. I just had to take him to Point Clark.
I had planned to do some traveling with J along the Lake Huron coastline, so I insisted that we stop at Point Clark along the way. We found Point Clark the town and then with some help we found the site of the lighthouse. I actually stopped to ask someone myself for directions – how serious is that!
Well, we found the lighthouse. It was on the left side of the roadway, just as I remembered it. Naturally I wanted to go up the lighthouse... so up the lighthouse I went! J wasn't up to climbing the 114 steps so she waited in a shady spot on the beach while I paid the admission and took the tour up the tower. The climb was an easy one for me because of all the practice I've had doing
the stairs at work in the past few month. I took in the view at the top and also took some pictures before coming back down. It was a little scary coming back down because the stairs were a little steep and there were no handrails at the top two flights.
By the time I came back down, I realized that my sister had been mistaken – I didn't come here because I wanted to get back my ball; I came because I wanted to go up the lighthouse. What a miracle, that an eight year old boy taken on a one-time trip to some beach with a lighthouse would find it again thirty eight years later, return at the age of forty and climb to the top of the lighthouse.
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