Sullishak
      Replacing the porch -- 1988

Like an old dog being put to sleep by a loving master, the porch of our little beach cabin was torn off this summer.

I built the porch as a buffer for the main cabin, against the winter storms that attack from the south. It served that purpose. Forty years of weather, however, left it leaking, with a rotting foundation infested with carpenter ants.

I'll help our three stalwart sons replace it with a slightly larger, better weatherized version later this summer.

But the tearing down process was mine. With it came reminders of four decades ago when a much younger Wes and Elsie went to Camp Adair, as it was being dismantled, to buy a truckload of lumber, windows, doors and plumbing from which we would build a cabin at Lincoln Beach. The entire truckload cost $300.

We learned about building as we went, with the construction process interrupted to  care for Steve and Nancy, who were left to amuse themselves in a hastily built sandbox. Tearing apart something of your own construction, a part of your life for 40 years, is harder than just yanking on a crowbar. Nostalgia can come up and blindside you. When I took the subflooring off, there in the dirt below lay a half dozen plastic building blocks, dropped by the children as they played in the foundation.

The blocks had deteriorated through the years, with only a hint of their original red color. But suddenly I began reliving the joy of playing with Steve as we fashioned those blocks into stores and bridges on the beach cabin floor.

If the tearing down of an old porch creates a full-flowering nostalgia in me, it plants future nostalgia in the next generations.

I deliberately asked Steve's two children, Joel, 11, and Gail, 9, to assist in removing the porch. They responded enthusiastically.

They enjoyed ripping off the boards and being praised as "destructive children." I took pictures of each phase of the project, to help capture it in their memories.

Perhaps 40 years from now, when another round renovation is needed, they will find some relic of our experience and suddenly will recall the sound of ripping nails and flailing boards as they pulled down the wall of the old porch with Grandpa.

But I hope they don't dwell on the experience too long. Nostalgia is a powerful drug. To be savored best, it must be taken in small doses.

And now, to get on with rebuilding the porch, making it more strudy and more useful than its predecessor.

So, in 1988, we set about deciding how to expand the place. We needed more room. As the grandchildren grew, it was more difficult to have family discussions in the front room. We needed more privacy and bedroom space.

Everyone, it seemed, had a plan for expanding the cabin. I believe I created the final design. At least, I made the final decision. It was based on the audacious idea that while we would leave the foundation of the porch where it was, we would build over it, expanding the width of the room from 7 ½ to 9 feet.

A gable would resolve the roof problem. This would allow for an entry hall, with storage on one end and a second downstairs bedroom, the same size as the tiny bedroom in the original structure.

Elsie and I paid for the addition, with everyone helping to do the work. Bill and Dave were the main "contractors." The project would include another roof on the entire cabin as well as replacing the rotten wood in the front of the house.

It was a summer-long project, but it was done with a skill seldom seen in the cabin up to that time. It completely altered the appearance of the place, making it look like a real house. Among the serendipities of the project was the toolshed out behind. It turned out that if we just let the roof rafters run an additional 6 feet at the back of the house, that could be enclosed as a toolshed.

The new structure was totally insulated, top, bottom and sides. A heater was installed in the bedroom.

Dave found some planks of Oregon oak which he bought for the walls of the entry hall. Elsie and I spent much of the following year finishing off the little bedroom, furnishing it with a futon. It became our room. It was supposed to serve as a play area for the kids, but I don't recall it ever being used for that purpose.

We're justifiably proud of the results.

The roof seems to get steeper the older the people are who are expected to climb on it. Bill, with the assistance of Steve Eck, reroofed the cabin. Our Steve did much of the roofing on the new section.