Growing up, it was rarely talked about in our family. It was simply known as The Rescue. It happened in 1958 before I was born. My parents were living on a remote island on the coast of Maine where Dad was a lightkeeper for the U.S. Coast Guard. Hurricane Cleo had been threatening the mainland all week but now was headed out to sea. My mother was down along the shore picking berries. Looking out she spotted a tiny sailboat amongst the waves and to her horror it appeared in trouble. What happened next was all but forgotten history. That is until now.