by Stewart Lytle
and Ava Moeckel
PLUM ISLAND – Last Tuesday, the Pink House’s final morning, several trucks, a huge excavator and a giant crane arrived before dawn under a heavy fog to begin taking down the house.
Four Newbury police officers came to manage traffic on the Plum Island Turnpike, and if necessary, to control any citizens who might show up to express their rage at the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service for tearing down the icon that so many artists and photographers cherished.
Former Plum Island resident Bonnie Duvall, who joined dozens of Pink House fans, lamented, “It welcomed you in the morning and bid you goodnight in the evening.” Her adult daughter, Maddie Duvall, sadly agreed, “There’ll be nothing there.”
The Pink House, built 100 years ago, ultimately to house an unwanted daughter-in-law and her son, was torn down by the federal agency because it believed the house did not mesh with its mission of nurturing the Great Marsh.
Standing alone on dry ground at the marsh’s edge, the Pink House attracted a variety of birds that perched, often at sunrise, on its roof and cupola. Its lonely visage, in turn, attracted humans who made the Pink House one of the most admired, photographed, sketched and painted sites in New England.
“Yesterday, the house we’ve been fighting to save for the community of artists, visitors, residents and admirers over the past nearly 10 years was senselessly torn down by U.S. Fish & Wildlife,” wrote Allison Odle, president of the non-profit Supporters of the Pink House (STPH). “Throughout the horrific scene, she kept her dignity, hiding herself in the early morning mist.”
The removal of the house’s cupola proved problematic and slowed the demolition as phone calls were made, according to one source, to F&WS to confirm that the cupola was not to be saved.
The demolition crew had cut away the wooden cupola, giving supporters of the Pink House hope that the plan was to save it. An anonymous donor, who offered at least $1 million to save the house from this fate, had requested that the cupola be preserved.
But after an hour’s delay, the word came down, according to one source, “The feds say the demolition is taking too long.”
The giant crane, which was to lift the cupola, was towed away. The huge excavator, a Caterpillar 360E, owned by the demolition contractor, Atlantic Coast Dismantling, began tearing the house apart piece by piece. Its jaws, resembling those of a Tyrannous Rex walking the marsh, bit repeatedly into the house. It hammered and pushed against the roof and walls to break the pink wood into a pile of rubble.
When the excavator pulled the cupola to the ground, a scream of pain erupted from those who loved the house.
Only minutes more and the rubble was lifted in pieces into a dump truck and driven away. The drivers of trucks and cars, which were stopped by the police officers on the highway, honked and waved in tribute. Supporters stood and watched and cried.
“It is done.” wrote Sandy Tilton, an STPH board member, with an emoji of a broken heart. “Our Pink House was doing all she could to show her beauty & strength to the heartbreaking end. I have never been so disappointed in a FWS decision & shall not forget.”
Others on social media questioned the demolition from a practical perspective. John Macone wrote: “I wonder how much taxpayer money it cost to get to this point – buying the land, all the legal and staff time expended, studies conducted, hearings and meetings held, paperwork shuffled, demo costs, etc. It was probably well north of $1 million. What a waste of time, money and public trust.” ♦
