The Pink House’s Demise is a Symptom of What’s Happening to Our Country

Out my window, I could see one of New England’s most frequently photographed, sketched, and artistically rendered buildings. Canvas devoted to it over the years would cover it many times.

All by itself on the marsh, the Pink House was built in 1925 under circumstances debated to this day. Some call it an example of “spite architecture.” To comply with a ruling in a divorce case, the story goes, the husband had to provide the wife with a home. Spitefully, he put it near nothing and no one, fully exposed to coastal elements, and out of reach of the electric grid and running water at the time.

True or not, as Rochelle Joseph of Support the Pink House, Inc., claimed while recording a farewell tribute video during the final days, the story attracted international attention. Other tributes told of the resulting increased tourism. Various local groups have long included photos of the Pink House in their brochures.

Joseph also asked anyone listening to look across the marsh aside the house. This is a technique well-known to visual artists that the rest of us never notice: The very unlikeliness of a house on that spot enhances the natural setting surrounding it, much like a barn or tractor on one side will help accentuate rows of crops that fill a photo.

Yes, a farewell to the “Pink Lady” as it will be most fondly remembered. Abandoned about twenty years ago, it was never, as I recall, a candidate for demolition until well after 2010 by the National Fish & Wildlife Service.

Several initial attempts to demolish it were rebuffed by tireless efforts of Support the Pink House, delaying it for several years before running out of options. Demolition began and was completed as I write.

The distance from my window to the site is slightly over a mile as the Canada geese fly, so I was unable to see the vigil or any parked cars—unless you count the flashing blue lights of a police cruiser assigned to slow the increased traffic and make sure that the two-lane road was not bottle-necked.

I hoped to attend, but an about-to-turn-74-year-old body has veto power over any desire of heart or purpose of mind. And so I watched Joseph’s video in real time, along with nonstop emojis and responses expressing regret that came from as far as Ireland, and from people who summer here from all around the US.

Must admit that I have not been involved with the vanguard of Support the Pink House. Ten, twelve years ago I had a few satirical columns in the Daily News ridiculing the idea of demolition. In recent years, I’ve attended a few meetings and signed a few petitions. All of it a far cry from my deep involvement with the Newburyport Public Library’s dismantling of its own, world-acclaimed Archival Center.

No doubt for that reason, one comment on Joseph’s video piqued my interest:

What is happening to the Pink House is symptomatic of what is happening to our country.

From the censorship inflicted in recent years on schools in southern states to the planned termination of the US Dept. of Education, and from weeding in libraries on the mainland to demolition of a landmark on the marsh, it is the erasure of history, of memory. But why?

For an answer, NFWS proposes a parking area with an observation tower. Sounds so much more functional than an abandoned house—until we consider that NFWS already has seven parking areas and two observation towers in the Reserve. Isn’t that a reason to keep the one and only artistic treasure and unique tourist attraction right where it is? No? How about if we consider that NFWS has a six-mile stretch of road on Plum Island where it can add things without displacing—or destroying—anything else?

If that’s not enough to keep the Pink House where it is, then yes, the unstated, unacknowledged reason is to erase the past. And the resistance to it, as happened to those who advocated keeping NPL’s Archival Center in tact, turned the powers-that-be against those who resisted.

Consider this exchange by two members of the Pink House support group in the comments to Joseph’s video:

It feels like they are demolishing it due to a grudge they have against people who love this… Because their reasoning doesn’t make sense.

I’ve felt that way since the start… I feel like it’s not about the house for them, it’s all about the power. Just awful.

A few dozen friends of mine can tell you that this describes NPL’s Archival Center, but I doubt you need anyone to tell you those two lines can be easily applied to any discussion of Project 2025’s plans to slash funds and personnel for public services.

Yes, it is “what is happening to our country.” And as I write, I have watched yet another piece of the USA put asunder from my window right here on Plum Island.

Jack Garvey
Plum Island resident

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