Len Butler remembers the first time he and his wife Mallory drove up to Gay Head. It was a gray February day with blustery winds, but the light in the lighthouse was on and they fell in love with the place. Six months later they moved to the Vineyard and took up residence in the tiny town at the westernmost edge of the Island.
Len Butler: “You come up here on a horrible night and look out the window and see the light. I could imagine for people at sea they could see that light and know they were home.” Photography: Mark Lovewell
That was 43 years ago. There were 75 registered voters in the town which was still named Gay Head. And every night Mr. Butler and his young family went to sleep by the sweep of the Gay Head Light.
“You come up here on a horrible night and we would look out the window and see the light,” Mr. Butler said on a recent breezy, blue-sky May day over looking the famous clay cliffs. “It would be a very calming effect for us and our children. I could imagine for people at sea they could see that light and know they were home.”
In those days the lighthouse had plenty of land around it. His oldest daughter was married beneath the lighthouse 10 years ago.
“It struck me when I came up here a year ago and realized the spot where she stood to get married is not there anymore,” he said. “It’s eroded and gone over the edge. It really struck home.”