When my cell phone rang in July of , I was suddenly reconnected with an island. The island was called Patos, and this phone call would change my life in a most profound way.
The call came from a friend who told me that he had found out about a new non-profit group, Keepers of the Patos Light, which had recently formed with the goal of preserving both the lighthouse and Patos Island. When I was a small child I lived on Patos Island with my dad, who was a Coast Guard lighthouse keeper, my mother and my new baby brother. The last time I visited Patos Island was 26 years earlier with my first husband. The old lighthouse was in shambles and needed a fresh coat of paint, with her windows all boarded up.
My dad, Dale Nelson, was stationed on Patos Island in the mids when he was in his early 20s. He fell in love with its remoteness and unbelievable beauty. Before I was born, my dad sent several letters to my mom, Darlene, describing Patos to her. On Dec. It takes about four hours to walk around it. There are two other couples living here.
They both have little kids about 18 to 20 months old. They are all very nice. I was born in August , and moved to Patos with my mom. My dad was stationed at other lighthouses after that. Life on Patos Island through the eyes of a child was magical. I would explore and find all kinds of treasures, starfish, hermit crabs, mussels and driftwood in funny shapes. We had our dog Scamp who was always with me and I had Crowey, a black crow that would always show up for his daily bread.
I would call him and there he would be. I also had a pet deer. It was a fawn; my dad said it swam across the channel to visit us on Patos. Occasionally, the foot Coast Guard Cutter would arrive to take us to the mainland, to visit our relatives. Every time I came aboard the Coast Guard cutter one of the men would always lead me down to the galley and give me an ice cream bar.
