The last time I saw the sign for Red Cliff I was thunderstruck by a suffocating fear. It appeared suddenly and took weeks to shake off. I was a bit nervous with going past that sign again, but this time there was no sense of terror. This time it was just a sign.
 
Red Cliff is within the Red Cliff Band of the Lake Superior Chippewa reservation. The town was very small and quiet when I passed through. It’s on the shore of Lake Superior and just a tick south of my destination. I initially wanted to hire a boat to take me to the light, but the plans didn’t come together. As it was, I came to stand on the shore, looking toward the light.
 
The infamous lighthouse wasn’t at all visible. What remained was below the waterline, posing a hazard to boats. This is also why it landed on the Oglebay Norton’s chart of the area. I knew where to look and how far out based on my study of that chart. I felt a renewed sense of gratitude to the Captain and his willingness to share the information.
 
I just stood there; I didn’t know what to do. The breeze was biting, sky was remained overcast and waves were very calm. After a time I fetched the roses from the car and unwrapped them. There were three with long stems and one shortened. I took a longer one and gently set it free on the water. “John, as I set this rose upon the sea, please know that you’re remembered and blessed.” The rose softly drifted out.
 
A second long rose was also placed on the water and I spoke to Louie. “I don’t know how you found me or why you picked me out of the crowd, but thank you. I truly hope that you were able to find what you were looking for and can now rest in peace. You’ll never be forgotten.” It too slowly drifted off.
 
The third rose had been made smaller than the rest to reflect the youngest lost. “Uncle Murphy, if your niece were here I’m sure she’d have kind words for you. Please accept mine in her place. You were born at sea and died at sea. You lived as all mariners dream of. Although lost far from home, know that your family still loves you and keeps your memory very much alive. With this rose may you rest in peace.” It calmly floated out to meet the others.
 
The final rose was laid on the water and I spoke simply, “as maritime tradition dictates, a rose was laid on the waves for each man lost and one more for all who have been lost at sea throughout history. Know that all of you are remembered.” It calmly moved away from the shore.
 
I stood there for a very long time and watch the roses. The sea remained placid as if to accept their memories. I didn’t want to leave, but as the light was starting to fade I knew I had to. I was getting quite cold, face turning numb from the strengthening breeze. The man next to me, the same that stood beside me for the past fourteen years, had faded. I suddenly felt completely alone, as if the universe had opened a vacuum around me and removed all hint of existence.
 
The drive back to the Duluth hotel was silent. I didn’t speak; the radio was hushed. I felt as though a notable piece of me had also faded. Now I understood why some who have active spirit guides and lose them will feel very disoriented, not knowing what to do next.
 
The next day I left for Iowa with my mission accomplished. I should’ve felt a big boost of confidence in completing a wildly complex project, but in truth I was at a loss. I wanted Louie to stay a bit longer and get to know him; maybe we could find other lost souls in need of help. We made a great team. I understood why he had to leave and my foolishness to want it postponed.
 
On the drive back I passed the same flowing hills, dotted with stoic conifers and flashy hardwoods. I kept working the last fourteen years over in my mind, begging to connect dots. Was it Louie who arranged for me to find that lighthouse book in Escanaba? Was it he who caused the explosion of horror at seeing the Red Cliff sign and if so, how long was he waiting there? Did others feel it as they drove by, but I was the only one who did anything about it? Was it he who saved me from going over the cliff, was it to keep me on the case?
 
In the next few years I came to have a past life regression. My last life was of a professional mariner. I was the first officer of a rather infamous passenger ship and strongly linked with a massive loss of life. I died at age 39 and still carry the guilt of believing that I could’ve prevented the accident. Louie was the first officer of the Marigold, also lost at 39. Perhaps he held the guilt of John’s and Murphy’s deaths. I rather think that our similarities may have been enough of a connection for him to land on me. Perhaps he knew that I understood what it’s like to die with no ground under your feet or knowledge of location. There’s a distinct sense of homelessness with that.
 
Whatever Louie’s reasons, or maybe random chance, I look back upon those years with fondness. There’s a dear sense not only of the grand adventure, mind-expanding research and getting to know Murphy’s niece…but also of having a bond with a fellow officer, a gentleman whose soul motive was to find his long-lost little brother, Murphy.
 
The recollections of these fourteen blog entries are 100% true and accurate. I haven’t been back to Red Cliff or had any further contact with Louis DeVrendt. I miss him at times and miss the thrill of the chase.