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From my perspective, it was a lot of hoopla! Looking back on the 1860s though, I realize just how novel and exciting my life and job may have seemed to others at the time. And if it served to inspire a few young women, then perhaps the hoopla was worthwhile.

My name is Idawalley Zoradia Lewis. I think you can see why I went by Ida. Back when I was 12, in 1854, my father became the first lighthouse keeper at Lime Rock in Newport, Rhode Island and that is the beginning of my story. The hoopla however, didn’t come till later.

The Lime Rock Lighthouse was just a short stone tower in those days and my father had to row 220 yards to and from Lime Rock. It really was too small to call it an island. We were proud of our father with his important job keeping the light burning to warn ships off the rocky shoreline and rescuing people from the grip of the cold ocean.

When a keeper’s house was connected to the light tower 2 years later, we all moved in. My brothers and sisters and I loved living on a rock we had all to ourselves. That summer I became known as the best swimmer in Newport!

But none of that lasted very long. My father had a stroke and my mother was in poor health too. So, really there was no other choice but for me to give up school and take over. My days were long and it was rough at first, but I found I enjoyed the work. Every morning I would row my sisters and brothers in my dad’s small rowing skiff to the mainland for school and pick up supplies from town. I got to be pretty skilled with a set of oars and learned how to maneuver in all kinds of weather. Then, as the day progressed, I would help my mother with the cooking and cleaning and tend to my father.

Every evening at sundown I filled the lighthouse lamps with whale oil and lit four wicks in each one. At midnight I refilled the lamps. My, but they were difficult to keep lit! I had to trim the wicks to keep them from smoking, wipe the carbon soot from the lantern’s reflectors to keep the light bright and visible for the ships at sea and then at dawn, I extinguished the lights.

Gazing out the lighthouse windows one day in 1858, I saw 4 young men sailing in the harbor. One of those foolish boys climbed the mast and started rocking the boat to tease his friends! Before I could even blink they had capsized! I raced to my little boat and quickly rowed to them. They were clinging to the hull of their boat, yelling for help. I was able to pull them one by one into my boat and was shocked to discover that not one of them could swim! They surely would have drowned! That was the first of my rescues. I turned 16 that same year. Over the next several years I saved about 11 people, give or take.

All the hoopla began in 1869. I heard the cries for help before I caught sight of the overturned skiff. I practically flew to my boat, forgetting shoes or a coat, and rowed with all my might through the icy March waters towards the skiff and the rescue that began all the excitement.

It turns out that a soldier from nearby Fort Adams had gone sailing with a friend. Neither of them knew much about sailing so they hired a young boy to help them. They learned the hard way that the boy didn’t know as much about sailing as he had bragged. Their skiff overturned in bad weather and the boy was swept away and drowned. The soldier and his friend were very grateful for their rescue and excitedly told the story to the local newspaper.

From there the word spread like wild fire that a young woman had saved two men from drowning. Before you know it a reporter from the New York Herald-Tribune decided to write a feature article about me! Next thing I knew there were articles about me in Harpers Weekly and a passel of newspapers.

At home in Newport they had a parade in my honor and gave me a mahogany rowboat! I don’t really think they were very practical, outfitting it with red velvet cushions, gold braid around the gunwales and gold plated oarlocks! Of course I didn’t say anything, it being an honor and all. They named it The Rescue. And I can’t say I didn’t appreciate the $100.00 the “Life Saving Benevolent Association of New York” sent me.

I enjoyed knowing I made a difference, that I had saved lives. But I just did what I was supposed to do and I could have stood for things to calm down. However, you can’t say “no” to becoming the first woman to receive a gold Congressional medal for lifesaving! It began to look to me like I was making another kind of difference, that I was somehow showing the world that wearing a skirt doesn’t mean you’re not capable.

I have to admit it was quite a thrill when President Grant came all the way to Lime Rock to meet me! When he stepped out of the boat into the water and got his feet wet it was hard to keep from smiling. I couldn’t believe my ears when he said “I have come to see Ida Lewis, and to see her I’d get wet up to my armpits if necessary.”

That was all very well, but it got totally crazy after that! 9,000 gawking and staring visitors came to Newport that year! As the years passed, traffic didn’t dwindle much. People kept coming in droves. Among my visitors were General William T. Sherman and Admiral Dewey! My mailbox couldn’t hold the sacks and sacks of mail. Can you imagine, quite a few of the letters were marriage proposals?!

I tried to ignore the fuss as best I could and continue with my job. There’s a peace on this rock that you don’t get on shore. There are hundreds of boats going in and out of this harbor in summer and it’s part of my happiness to know that they are depending on me to guide them safely.

All in all I was still able to perform my duties and several more rescues, the last in 1904 when I was 63 years old! A friend of mine was coming to visit and stood up in her small boat to wave at me when she fell overboard. Thank goodness I was able to reach her and pull her into my dory before it was too late!

I really could have done without all the hoopla. But I’ve been given to understand that my story inspires others and I’d be glad if some good can come of that.