When Linsay Bodenheimer’s family cabin was destroyed by the Caldor fire what was lost was much more than a building. Here’s her Perspective.
Our three-year-old daughter, Frances Darling, took her first steps two years ago at our family cabin 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 about building fairy gardens and family. It is where my mom learned how to chop wood and light one‐match fires and sing campfire songs. It is where just last year my grandfather watched all his great‐grandchildren play in the creek behind it. Where my great‐grandmother’s old kitchen cabinets went to live their second life when they remodeled their Mill Valley home.
Our six‐year‐old son, Landon, helped stack firewood with his grandma and played in the tunnels that his great‐great uncle carved out of the Alder trees. We all helped gather rocks to line the path through the ferns to its door and chipped in on repairs.
My kids, who are the 6th generation of cabin goers, love nature and getting dirty and hiking to Lovers Leap and helping because my mom’s love for this place spilled over onto us. When I ask my children where we should meet in our dreams at night, they always tell me, “At the cabin”.