Family still grieving over loss of 'Whitaker House'

(Some time ago, I met Jane Bridges when she was visiting Sandpoint. Her grandparents were early pioneers in the area and she and her children had returned to see the old home place for the last time. We usually think of grief as directed toward a person but a human being has the ability to grieve over any loss. As you read Jane's words below, you will hear the sadness and grief she was experiencing over a profound loss in her life — The Whitaker House on the lake — the center of her family memories.)

We sat on the lawn in front of the house that had meant so much to her. She, and her three children, had come from Seattle for a time of remembering. Word that the old home place was soon to be moved, torn down or burned (it was torn down), had reached her and one more visit was a must.

As Jane Bridges, daughter of Claire Whitaker Gorsline looked out over the lake her eyes reflected memories of yesteryear. Most of them were connected with the home her grandfather and grandmother, Will and Jeannie Whitaker, had lived in after arriving in Sandpoint in 1898. "We loved being here," she said in a whisper. "This home was to be shared. Over a period of years we all came back to the family home-those wonderful holidays. The house had all we needed and wanted and I remember the Rogers and Coons were our neighbors. We were grateful that we could do everything for ourselves and even when a section of the house caught on fire it was put out by our neighbors, you know a bucket brigade."

She recalled, "We had so much fun sliding down the hill on the snow and ice. The lake was not dammed then and in the winter the lake would be a long way off but in the summer the water would come clear up to the shed." She stated that as children the thing that they remembered best was staying at grandmother's house. "There was so much to do there and later on I would come with my children. We went ice fishing and did all sorts of things."

Jane recalled the evening when screaming was heard coming from the beach in front of the house. "My grandfather got up, dressed, and went to see what was going on. He saw that a brave had been beating his wife and had put out one of her eyes. He warned the Indian man that he did not want to see him again in the village. He and grandmother got help for her and she asked if she could stay and work for them. They agreed and offered her a room in the house but she would not take it. She lived in the yard in her tipi. I remember all of us children had to ask permission to go into Sally's tipi. We felt special when we could visit her and watch her do bead work."

After a time, Jane related this story about her grandmother. "I had three children and lived up on Pine Street. My mother was ill and grandmother was caring for her. I got a high school girl to watch my children and I went to check on them. When I walked in the house I knew something was wrong because all the fires had gone out. My mother thought grandmother was someplace in the house but after checking she was not to be found. I heard a little voice but it sounded like cats mewing. I looked out in the yard and saw a hand sticking up out of the snow. My grandmother said that she was afraid the weight of the snow was going to break the roof so she started to shovel it off and fell."

Jane told of the trouble she had getting her grandmother into the house. She built fires and bundled her mother and grandmother in all the blankets she could find. The doctor came later but it was too late. "Grandmother died that night."

Her closing words were, "They are going to destroy our home and I don't understand it. People go to Europe to see places like this but here it is and they want to destroy it. I just don't understand."