Henry “Hank” Sieg, originally from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, was stationed at Alexandria Bay, New York when he was transferred to Burnt Island Lighthouse in 1983. He was the last keeper to serve there up until the light was automated on October 7, 1988.
Hank tells the story of when his wife, Jeanne, was in labor with their daughter, Erica. There was a bad storm at the time and they couldn’t get off the island by themselves since there was no dock, only the ways up to the boathouse, which would have been very dangerous for her to attempt boarding in her condition.
Jeanne woke him up 4AM and said, “You’d better call the base. I’ve been in labor since 1AM.”
The station sent out a rubber Zodiac boat that could get onshore and Hank bundled Jeanne up in a survival suit and loaded her in. It was rough surf and the coastguardsman who was piloting the boat asked if he should “hit some good waves to bounce the baby out so we don’t have to go to the hospital.” Needless to say, Jeanne turned him down and made it safely to Boothbay Harbor where Erica had a much safer entry into the world.
Hank also tells a good ghost story of being awakened one night seeing Jeanne walking in her nightgown into the room on the right. Thinking she was out of bed, he stretched out and was shocked to find her still beside him. So, who was the other woman? When he got up to investigate, there was no one in the other room, but he noted that the room was exceptionally cold.
Regarding the closing of the station, Hank recollects that “the hardest and saddest part was when we took the flag down for the very last time. It was like having your heart ripped out. My son was two years old at the time and helped me do it by holding the flag while I folded it. It was the end of an era.”
In their final logbook entries, Jeanne wrote, “The light may lose its keeper, but it will never lose its peace, its beauty, its charm and its grace.” Hank followed up with, “Goodnight light, for the last time. I sure will miss you!”
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