Meet Carl and Marianne
Marianne and I came to the lake in 2008 to look for a cottage. While driving around, we came upon Rosemary Miller and her daughter cleaning their pontoon boat. She told us about a cottage that she thought might be coming on the market soon on Lake Shore Drive. We came there while they were cleaning out and putting things out for sale, and Helga invited us in and gave us a glass of delicious water from their artesian well. We can't remember his name just now, but he had spread a cloth across their driveway with some items from the house and the shed for a little yard sale. We just looked at them, and he said, "Oh, please, buy something. It will make Helga so happy!" We did and have that cute nut grinder and an old fly reel to this day! We left, thought about it, and came back later that day: we made up our minds, put in an offer, and within days we were buying it. Helga was surprised and said, "When you left, we had no idea what your reaction would be!" Someone else came later with check in hand, but they honored our commitment! Not long after, Helga passed away once she safely saw him settled in the south near their children.
Many weekends were spent there in peace and quiet, and we made friends with our neighbors. Carl was in 7th heaven, but Marianne had a hard time in the somewhat dark and dismal place.
Then disaster struck.
On February 29, 2014, we returned from a long trip to Nepal, and as we left arrivals at Kennedy Airport, I turned on my flip phone and immediately got a call from our daughter in England. She asked me to pull over and told us that our house in Cherry Ridge, south of Honesdale, was burning and many fire companies were there attempting to put out the fire but did not succeed. Our late 1800s stone and wood house was destroyed. We stayed with friends for a month and then decided to stay at the cottage while Revelstone was rebuilt from the stone walls up. What was supposed to be months turned into well over a year. With winter coming on, Jim Wells boxed in the crawl space and insulated it, but the pipes still froze 4 times and burst once. Jim McMyne still lived at the lake then, and plowed Birch Lane all of the way around Lake Shore Drive to our house. During snowstorms, he had to plow 2-3 times because of the blowing snow off the lake. Drifts and plowed snow accumulated over the height of my SUV. I had to shovel the drive every night, and our dog had difficulty going out. Marianne had to be towed out 4 times that winter, and we had to leave our cars in Menconi's drive and walk down to the cabin. Without our 2 "Jims," we would have never survived, and we won't ever forget that. When our home in Cherry Ridge was finished in the spring of 2015, Marianne no longer wanted to come to the lake overnight.
Our compromise was to rebuild the cottage, which piqued Marianne's architectural inclinations with the inspiration of an AirB&B that we had stayed at in the Netherlands. She designed it with my two cents' worth, Sandy Scull and partner made blueprints, and Dave Corrazza did an incredible job building it with his additions of his love for wood, which we share. We sold Revelstone in 2018 and moved permanently to the Lake. The winter of 2018-19, we spent in Uganda and Italy, and the winter of 2020 we spent in Nepal and Italy where we were locked down and fell in love with Lecce.
In August of 2022, Grace, our borrowed daughter from Uganda, came to the lake to live with us while going to college. I still remember how cold she was in August of that year! In January of 2023, we finally got Wiekersen, our borrowed Haitian son, who miraculously got a visa to come to the US and study with us. He was here only three days before we went to Italy, but I remember how I tried to convince him (unsuccessfully) that wearing his winter coat indoors only made it worse when he had to go out in the snow. Our heating bills when we were gone that winter were sky high.
We can't forget to put our Celeste in the picture here. Celeste, our cat who thinks that all of our neighbors' homes belong to her as well and is frequently attracted by the many kind fishermen and lakers, disappeared last summer. Her abduction or, likely, hitchhike with an unsuspecting fisherman brought 18 days of worry and sadness. However, the lake community's contribution to her safe return truly represents what Duck Harbor means to us: a place of peace and serenity, people who care for each other and watch for our safety. A place of summer joy and watching the neighborhood grandchildren grow up, sharing 'Doc's Dock' and waving when groups of people float by when the sun sets. A place where the geese leave and return to, where little ducklings disappear or survive, where the eagles soar low over our heads, and where we love receiving Elaine's sunset pictures. The fireflies at night, the deer munching in the neighbor's yard, and even the squirrels who attend the bird feeders as if it is a drive-in restaurant.
We thank you all. It's a colorful, beautiful community.
