The year the light went dark - 1994 - I lived a block away on the top floor of an apartment building and just as if I were up on the bridge of a Great Lakes tanker, I could see on my bedroom wall the beacon's regular, repeating appearance as it spun atop the lighthouse each night. Recently, my son and I trekked up to the top together and the Northpoint Lighthouse has now taken on a whole new meaning for me.