On Thursday, Nov. 6, 1913, my grandfather, Charles (Charlie) A. Linsmeier, was sailing on a tugboat enroute from Detroit to Buffalo when the deadliest freshwater storm in history hit the Great Lakes. His tug was towing a barge loaded with lumber, which was seldom visible in the surging waters of Lake Erie. For three days, the captain had a man stationed at all times with an ax ready to chop the barge free if he saw the line go down, which would mean the barge was sinking and would quickly drag them to their death.
After several treacherous days, the crew caught sight of the United States lightship Buffalo, stationed to help guide vessels toward the harbor. The next day, as Charlie’s ship approached the harbor, the Buffalo floated by, inverted. It had broken loose from its anchorage and went down in the storm, taking the crew with it. Dozens of ships were demolished and hundreds of lives were lost in the Great Lakes Storm of 1913. In the days and weeks following the storm, many deceased sailors floated ashore wearing lifejackets bearing the names of ships that had sunk. There were four men, including Charlie, huddled together on board when the storm was over. They were covered with ice, almost frozen, but alive.
Charlie sailed on the Great Lakes for seven years before joining the Lighthouse Service. Growing up as a lighthouse keeper’s daughter, my mother, Vivian, witnessed an unselfish dedication to keeping people safe. During his 34-year career with the U.S. Lighthouse Service and the U.S. Coast Guard, Charlie served nine Lake Michigan lighthouses, retiring as principal keeper of the Twin River Point (Rawley Point) lighthouse, just north of Two Rivers, in 1953. Twin River Point was beautiful and isolated, and according to grandpa, “It was God’s Acres.”
In her journal, Vivian wrote:
During a terrible ice storm, I saw my father hanging over one hundred feet in the air, outside the lantern room window. He had tied a rope around his waist and secured it to the outside rail of the lighthouse so he could scrape ice from the windows. There was a sacred trust between mariners and the lighthouse keepers who guided them to safety. Dad was worried about the boats weathering this storm, as he knew they needed his light to navigate.
From her father and the other lighthouse keepers she knew, Vivian learned some of the most valuable lessons of her life: honesty and service to others. In a Lighthouse Digest article, Vivian wrote the following:
Even in good weather, Dad’s thoughts were with those who sailed. Some of his shipmates, after many years, had become captains, mates, or chief engineers, and he knew which boat each of them presently sailed. Often, as a car ferry or freighter passed the point, he would give them a “highball” as he raised and lowered the flag in salute. Then, far out in the lake, he would see a puff of steam and then the sound of their horn in answer.
Once every three hours, the man on watch went down to the fog signal and checked up on all the light station radio beacons on Lake Michigan. Ours was the only radio beacon monitoring station on the lake. Each station that sent out a beacon would broadcast its own signal at exactly the correct time. A boat on the lake could plot its course by intercepting these signals. This was a very important means of navigation for that time. If any station’s signal was broadcasting at an incorrect time or was not operating, the man on watch would telephone the station and alert them of the problem. Our light station continually received calls from Muskegon, Grays Reef, North Manitou, Cana Island, and other Lake Michigan lighthouses to check their radio beacon signal strength. We had a telephone line along the beach to Two Rivers. Sometimes, local kids would shoot out the insulators somewhere along the line. When that happened, a Coast Guardsman from the Two Rivers Station and one of our keepers would start walking from each station to find the trouble and report it.
As Vivian navigated her life, living through the Great Depression and World War II, standing up to social injustice, and raising eight children, she became a beacon of light and hope for those who encountered life storms. Deep down, I had always known that my mother was a remarkable woman, but a life-changing realization hit me on the day of her funeral. The church was packed with family and friends who had traveled from all over the country. Toward the end of mass, all at once, without hesitation, everyone jumped to their feet, smiling and clapping enthusiastically, the most genuine round of applause I have ever witnessed.
Months later, still in awe, I decided to write an article about her standing ovation. This article would challenge others to live a standing ovation life. Although I had the best intentions, I struggled with how to begin. Is it possible that I had spent my entire life not really seeing and understanding my mother? Of course, I loved her. Everyone who ever met her loved her. But had I ever truly considered who she was as a person besides my mother?
Four years later, my husband and I made wishes as we tossed our coins into the Trevi Fountain in Rome, Italy. My wish was answered when we stepped into a nearby church. As I approached the pews and walked down the aisle, I was drawn to an elegant statue of the Blessed Mother. I lit a votive candle at Mary’s feet and quietly said, “Please, help me know what I should be doing with my life. What is God’s plan for me?” In a confident yet soft and feminine voice, I heard three words: Write the book.
As incredible as this experience may seem, I believed, without a doubt, what I had heard. I felt very calm and serene, yet in awe of this miracle. As I shared this experience with my husband, he said, “You need to write this book.” Although neither of us had ever referred to the standing-ovation article — the one I had talked about writing after Vivian’s standing ovation but had never started — as a book before this moment, we understood this was now my life plan.
Several miracles and a few arguments with God set me on a path to discover her way of being in the world, and the quiet, profound inspiration she shared with everyone who knew her. Raised with the values of a lighthouse keeper’s way of life, she made the conscious choice to live with kindness and generosity. In an article she authored, she wrote the following:
I really believe that people see something in a lighthouse that shows an unselfish dedication to keeping people safe, a guiding light in good weather and storm.
Therese Langer Woelfel is the author of “Our Guiding Light: Wisdom from the Lighthouse Keeper’s Daughter,” about her discovery of her mother, Vivian’s, secret to living a peaceful and purposeful life. Find more about the book on Amazon and at this link: https://a.co/d/6zI0KKF.
This article originally appeared on Manitowoc Herald Times Reporter: Author of ‘Wisdom from the Lighthouse Keeper’s Daughter’ shares inspiration
Reporting by Therese Langer Woelfel, Special to Manitowoc Herald Times Reporter USA TODAY NETWORK-Wisconsin / Manitowoc Herald Times Reporter
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