I love that place. My father built that cabin in 1947. My mother was recuperating from impetigo at the time, and dad thought it would be a good idea to get her out into the fresh air. She died there the following winter. And he passed away 10 years later to the day. His last words to me were, ‘Cherish the cabin.’ Not, uh, ‘Take care of your sister. She's a paraplegic.’ But, ‘Cherish the cabin.’ And I have. For 45 years. It's often been a sanctuary for me.
Mr. Ross explains his deep love for the family cabin. He's unaware it's already been burned to the ground.