The old gravel road meandered through deep forest a few miles from the tiny town of Yacolt, Washington, and ended abruptly at a neglected driveway that was claimed by wild blackberries.
Faye and her husband, Lenny, were visiting her parents’ farm in Yacolt, where Faye grew up in the 1940s. At that time the area was a blackened landscape, but now, in 1964, she saw that the land had been reborn. The woods, bright with fall colors, intrigued Lenny.
Down the lonely drive, above the canopy of fir and alder, loomed an immense American chestnut tree. “I’ll bet there’s a house down here,” Lenny told Faye, fighting his way thorough the brambles.
The brush gave way to a clearing with a small house, a large barn, several outbuildings, a field…
