Is there anything more alluring than to experience a different culture? We love to see how other people (just like us—flesh and blood with hungers and joys) follow their dreams and cope with their problems.

We readers of books perk our ears when we hear about a new culture we haven’t yet explored. Children of the Lighthouse by Ila G. Lee offers this kind of experience.

Imagine spending your childhood isolated in a blustery place, where your family might be the only people around you for months. Imagine the long winters, the constant threat of storms, the privations of being far from stores and events. Imagine, too, watching your father rescue people who are drowning or whose ships are breaking apart. And, think how intense the joy of having visitors would be, as well as the glory of living so close to natural forces like ocean waves and gale-force winds.

This is the life that Lee experienced as a child raised in lighthouse stations in Washington’s San Juan Islands and on the Oregon Coast. Her story is illustrated with several historic photos dating back as far as 1915, with most in the 30s.

The book is written in a memoir fashion with detailed descriptions of the living quarters threaded through anecdotes and character profiles of the significant people and animals that filled Lee’s young life.

Siblings were an important part of any lighthouse-dwelling child’s life, and Lee had three: Ellen (the eldest), Lavinia (six years Lee’s senior), and Allen who was two years younger than she was. The games they invented and played are shared in the book, including the many times when childhood diversions can go awry. For example, the time the two older girls turned their dolls into campers, complete with campfire. Sadly, the dolls were burnt. Fortunately, the girls were not, though they’d chosen to hide in the toy storage cubbyhole when the campfire got out of control in their attic bedroom.

Though Lee attended public school, she says there was an “unwritten code” for the families who lived at the lighthouse “reservations.” The children of those families were not to play together too much. “At least, habitual contact was discouraged.”

Another part of lighthouse culture was the significance of the animals that shared the small space with residents. Domestic and wild, these critters took on significance as companions, sources of entertainment, and sometimes even guardians.

Lee tells of a black goat called Nan who had a famous white tail. Her escapades included always placing herself at the lead of any group of vacationers visiting the old lighthouse ruins that were located on a part of the island being washed away by “the relentless sea.” Though the tourists were always warned about touching Nan’s twitching tail, they’d forget and earn a head-butting for it. While this provided the resident family with a hearty laugh, Nan’s values went far beyond the humorous. Aside from being a source of milk for the growing children, she’d been seen butting them to safety away from the cliff’s edge—along with her own kids!

The last fifty pages are filled with letters spanning from the early 20s to 1930. Presented as written, they document the family as well as local and global events surrounding them. Especially the hardships of the Great Depression are reported in the voices of those actually experiencing them. The correspondence gives readers a present day feel for the privations and struggles of this family, so similar to many others of the times.

Finally Lee’s poem (Where’s the Old Keeper), to her father and other lighthouse keepers who lost their places to automation, is included. The last stanza is a haunting tribute from a “child of lighthouses”:

The sun has set in the golden West,

The honest keeper has done his best,

Stars are twinkling and shining bright;

But where’s the old keeper who looks after the light?

“Children of the Lighthouse” by Ila G. Lee is available from AuthorHouse: Call 1-888-519-5121 or visit http://www.authorhouse.com/bookstore.