When Linsay Bodenheimer’s family cabin was destroyed by the Caldor fire, what was lost was more than a building. Here is his point of view.
Our three-year-old daughter, Frances Darling, took her first steps two years ago in our family chalet that her great-great-great-grandfather built.
The hideout, as we call it, is in the woods near Echo Summit. This special place is where I learned to build fairy gardens and a family. It was there that my mom learned to chop wood, light match fires, and sing campfire songs. This is where, last year, my grandfather watched all of his great-grandchildren playing in the creek behind. Where my great-grandmother’s old kitchen cabinets went to live their second life when they renovated their Mill Valley home.
Our six-year-old son Landon helped stack firewood with his grandmother and played in the tunnels his great-great-uncle dug in the alder trees. We all helped pick up rocks to line the path through the ferns to her door and helped with the repairs.
My kids who are 6th generation of cabin lovers love the outdoors and get dirty and hike to Lovers Leap and help because my mom’s love for this place has been poured out on us. When I ask my children where we should be in our dreams at night, they always say to me: âTo the cabinâ.