Kurt and Elizabeth huddled in the darkness waiting for the Skimmer to leave. Almost as quickly as it came over them, it was gone. Silence finally surrounded them and they decided to begin the final trek to Fallingwater.
They continued along the river only their narrow beam lights clearing the darkness ahead.
Suddenly Elizabeth, who was leading, shouted back to Kurt, “Kurt, it may be a mirage, but it looks like there’s a rope bridge up ahead”. Kurt played his light over the bridge. He also noticed in the beam of light that snow had begun falling quietly over the river scene.
“The bridge was built for hikers going to Fallingwater. Here is a plaque naming it the Wright-Kaufmann Bridge.”
“It looks sturdy enough,” Kurt said as he passed her and took a step on to the cross walk. “I’m going first since I have more weight. You wait until I get across.”
The bridge creaked and swayed, Kurt and Elizabeth crossed without a problem and saw a shelter at the entrance of a trail. “Let’s stay in the shelter, it’s a good time to break and wait for the snow to lighten. I don’t want to lose the trail or you in this mess,” he said.
“I am certain this trail goes to 381. Once we reach it, Fallingwater is about four miles away. You are right, I’m not sure about this trail, especially in the dark and the snow. A break is a good idea.”
In the shelter Kurt and Elizabeth talked about their objectives for tomorrow and decided to get some sleep before they began their final ascent to Fallingwater. They awoke after a few hours rest, the snow had stopped and it was still dark outside. It was the first time they had to hike uphill, but they had good traction and in less than an hour reached Route 381. From that juncture, they began to hike the two lane road, taking them up over six hundred feet. From the time they left the bridge near the river until they approached the entrance to Fallingwater they encountered no traffic on the road nor tracks in the snow.
Kurt and Elizabeth climbed between barricades that had fallen in disarray at the security booth. They reached the parking area and walked up to what was the Visitor Center, now dark and overgrown with branches from the unattended shrubbery and bushes that surrounded it. Kurt found a way around the Center and led Elizabeth to a path until they reached a field at the bottom. Kurt remembered this area from his previous visits and knew Fallingwater was ahead. They walked carefully on the walkway and began to hear the sound of Bear Run
churning under the famous structure. They reached the final elevation in and looked down at the stone beauty created by one of America’s greatest architectural innovator.
Fallingwater was like something out of a story book as it lay snuggled against the snow covered slopes. For a hundred years it had been a Mecca for architects and the general public. Until 2030 it had been maintained by a local Pittsburgh conservancy. The State of Pennsylvania took over its care for a few years until it was unable to maintain historical and cultural sites in the State. Fallingwater, like all of the national monuments or tourist attractions of the U.S., was left to fend for itself.
They stood silently looking at the beauty and then Elizabeth said, “I remember one of my neighbors telling me that locals had volunteered to maintain the premises but had to give up a couple of years ago. It’s been unattended since then.”
Again they were quiet and Elizabeth added, “My God, look at it. It’s almost invisible with the snow and all the growth. It’s so sad, Kurt, so sad. When was it finished?” she asked.
“It was built during the nineteen thirties. I think it was commissioned in 1936 and finished in 1938 or 1939
when they added the guest quarters above it. You know the story, I guess.”
“Oh, a little bit. Frank Lloyd Wright was an eccentric genius, and all that. If he could see it now!”
“Well you’re right. It was built for Edgar Kaufmann, owner of a Pittsburgh department store. They collaborated on what became to be called the greatest American architectural structure of the last Century. This morning it’s hard to see with the snow falling, but he built this stone house within the confines of a gorge formed by Bear Run. It comes out of the woods and flows under the house. It’s absolutely incredible.
“Look at it, Kurt. It’s like a disguise of sort. Underneath that shabby exterior is a beautiful lady, awaiting arebirth. It’s a Greek tragedy. It just lies there, overgrown, unattended. Let’s see if we can get in,” she said.
Fallingwater lay silent, guarded by dilapidated wooden barricades in front of the narrow, stone enclosed passageway that led to the front door. Hanging naked limbs of oaks, pines and assorted vegetation, all blended into a protective cocoon that curled around the layered structure. It was as if nature had become the protector of this human endeavor, now being governed by the woods and the stream, not guardians, who’d pampered its every need over the years. It had passed the test of the years. It was solid and hadn’t caved in or fallen into the stream as predicted when first designed. In a symbolic way this was the legacy of an American way, since vanished. If in another five hundred years, Fallingwater is discovered by a wanderer, what would that person think of those who had built it?
Elizabeth saw an aluminum container in a drop box by the wall. She opened it and inside was a journal written by John Fitzgibbons from the Western Pennsylvania Conservancy. Mr. Fitzgibbons signed the journal as
‘Volunteer Chairperson, Fallingwater’. It was an epitaph for a nation as well as a monument.
Fitzgibbons wrote a brief history of Fallingwater and described how he was going back to his native Scotland, because there was no longer anyone to fund the maintenance of the structure. He left this letter for whoever came to Fallingwater. He wrote about how difficult it had been for himself and many older volunteers to try and keep the “beautiful lady” alive. It eventually became impossible. Elizabeth read the letter and when finished, refolded it tightly and returned it to the aluminum container which she dropped into the mail box. “Hopefully someone coming to rescue ‘the lady’ will take note of Mr. Fitzgibbon’s letter,” she said.
Kurt looked at her and said, “Well let’s get on with it. We have to see if we can be inside before noon. The contact may be zeroed in to exact coordinates on the building, whether that’s electronic of even a possible physical drop. I just don’t know. We have today and tomorrow to make contact. At this point we can’t take any chances.”
“How are we going to do this, Kurt? He studied the barrier and noticed logs that had shifted exposing a small opening. He and Elizabeth were able to move them aside and climbed over to the entranceway leading to the front door.
Kurt checked the door which was padlocked. There were several signs in faded letters stating Atlas Security and he could see the security system wiring program. It was solar powered and probably out of commission. Kurt backed out through the small opening to search for entrance way. Tree trunks probably struck by lightning were lying along the side of the house. He laid one against the wall and used it to climb onto the second floor patio.
An unlocked window provided him access into the second floor. Elizabeth waited outside as morning light penetrated the lightly falling snow.
She heard Kurt yell from inside the house, “We would need a wire cutter or crowbar - something to snap the locks. You will have to use the tree trunk propped against the wall and I will help you up.
For the next hour they walked around. The interior was nearly empty. All that remained was the built-in furniture, protected by heavy canvas coverings. Gone were the paintings, pictures and sculptures of the Kaufmann family. He recalled the glossy waxed grey stone floors that today were dull, dingy and covered with leaves and branches.
The famous glass windows that opened the rooms to nature were dirty from years of driving rain and wind blown dirt. Kurt looked out the grimy windows recalling the forest fires of two years ago. Lightning caused fires to rage in the dry woods for days until a torrential downpour finally extinguished the spreading flames.
Looking about he noticed no apparent damage to the house. Possibly the stream had protected Fallingwater or the rains arrived in time. The structure probably wouldn’t have suffered any damage anyway because of its stone construction.
“It’s from those fires two years ago,” he said as he rubbed the black smudged window.
“Bet you’re right. I was afraid down at Morgan’s Creek that we might have fire. Didn’t happen, but we sure had strange weather,” Elizabeth replied as she looked around the desolate home. She thought of Mr. Fitzgibbon’s letter and said, “I can’t believe how quiet and sort of spooky this place is. What do you want to do while we wait?” she said to Kurt who was still staring out of the window.
Theystood, silent, looking at the most magnificent structures designed by an American in the America of the past, now empty, but with a strength personified by the light that radiated through the dirty but classic windows.
The two of them looked around wide eyed as if they had seen a ghost.
Elizabeth looked out through the same windows that Kurt was staring at and said, “You know, I think we should take a break. Let’s have our snacks and take rest. Let’s see if the contact is made at noon. The snow has stopped and the sun has come out. Feels likes it warming up a bit. It looks like it’s going to be a cold but beautiful,clear day. You can check the weather for today and tomorrow. That will be critical,” she stood next to him, draping her hand over his shoulder as they looked out into the sun hitting the snow covered branches below Fallingwater.
“As far as the weather is concerned, the prediction is for clearing today with a cold front and possible heavy snow accumulation tonight or early tomorrow morning. Thanks for that dose of reality. You’re right.” Looking at the famous staircase that lead to the stream below, he said, “I’m going down there to fill our canteens.”
“Yesterday I had a message stating the contact would be made at noon, which would have been either
yesterday, today, or tomorrow. If nothing happens at noon, I’ll make another call. If Plan A doesn’t work by tomorrow, we will retrace our steps down 381 and head for Cumberland. It all depends on Dr. Alexander’s contact,” Kurt finished.
“Who is this contact? Do you know?”
“I don’t. The code name is Cobra, I know that much. All I know is that the good doctor has been in
communication with UN officials. We have to be prepared for anything, that’s for sure,” Kurt said. “We’ll keep packed in case we have to leave in a hurry. We have less than an hour, so let’s take a break and have something to eat.”
They walked over to steps that led down to the stream. They sat on the steps, close to each other and watched the water fiercely cascade on the way to the ocean