Welcome to Beach Week, a celebration of the best place on earth.

For Jon Staff and his partner, Michael Thornton, visiting Fire Island was “love at first sight.”

On paper, Fire Island doesn’t seem like much: a wisp of land, less than nine miles square, in the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of Long Island, New York. But one trip to this barrier island and you’ll find that it’s not your typical beach escape. For starters, no cars are allowed; you have to take a ferry to get there, and the “roads” are well-worn wooden boardwalks.

Those elements certainly wooed Jon—founder of the cabin rental company, Getaway—and Michael, but it was the history of the place that stole their hearts. The town of Cherry Grove, where the couple recently built a house, is deeply, wholly, unapologetically queer—and it has been for a very long time.

The seaside escape started attracting an LGBTQ population in the 1940s, a time when being openly gay could be ostracizing and dangerous, not to mention illegal. But Cherry Grove, along with the neighboring Fire Island Pines, became an escape for the community, creating, as anthropologist Esther Newton deemed it, “America’s first gay and lesbian town.”

After a few weekend trips over the course of a few years, Jon and Michael started casually looking at property. A few open houses led to some private showings, which led to the conclusion that while charming, most of the cedar cottages on Fire Island were old, dank, and dark—“a real contrast with the bright beach outside,” recalls Jon.

They were ready to give up their “not-serious search” in summer 2019 when they saw one more ad in the window of the real estate office, this one for a buildable lot measuring 50 feet by 120 feet on the bay, with pilings from a house that was started, and abandoned, in 2008. Here’s how they turned this postage stamp of land into a haven for friends and family.

Finding the Land

Jon: We were about to leave on the ferry, but decided we might as well walk by this piece of land because we had some time to kill.

Michael: We walked by it a couple of times because it was completely covered with phragmites [an invasive species of reed] that were probably 10 feet tall, just a wall of them between the two neighboring bungalows. The pilings were here, but you couldn’t see them at all.

Jon: We’d just come off of these musty open houses, so it felt exciting to think about dreaming something up. We closed on the lot in February 2020.

Starting the Process

Jon: We inherited the plans and permits for the house. We didn’t care for the design, but the assumption we made was that if we kept the footprint the same, it would make things easier. It turns out we could have changed a lot more, because the updates we made triggered so many reviews. But architects and designers talk a lot about “enabling constraints,” so this was a fixed variable from which to start.

Finding an Architect

Jon: We knew this was a stretch to take on, financially and logistically. We thought that maybe we could work with some student architects or an up-and-comer, so I called [Kansas City–based architect] Matthew Hufft, who I’m in a business group with, to get his advice. Instead, he said, “I’d love to work with you on it,” which surprised us because he works on much bigger projects.

Delays on Top of Delays

Michael: Charlie [the contractor] started straight away and then had to stop after two weeks.

Jon: The day after we bought the land, the contractor pulled out one of the pilings and it was pointed at the end and not flat. And that was evidently a big problem. I don’t know why it mattered, but it’s not the type of thing you mess with if your contractor says that it’s not good.

Michael: To deal with the pointy issue, they beat them all further down and then had to add extensions to meet the new FEMA regulations for elevation. This was early March of 2020. Then Covid hit and everything shut down.

Jon: I had negotiated a five-month timeline with the contractor that had a two-week buffer to account for delays. Then you obviously know what happened. It became, “Just get it done sometime, maybe, please.” Five months turned into two and a half years.

Michael: You couldn’t get lumber, you couldn’t ship anything. Furniture and fixtures were unavailable. At every single stage, there were delays. We couldn’t be here, so there wasn’t really any ability to supervise at all. In theory, our architect had volunteered to be the construction manager, but he’s in Kansas City, so he couldn’t fly here. Thankfully, our contractor lives two doors down.

Jon: He sent a lot of photos.

The couple wanted the house to be a thoughtful contribution to Fire Island’s distinctly modern aesthetic. The geometric shape and expansive windows call to mind the vernacular of Sea Ranch, while the cedar-clad exterior fits right in with the neighbors. An overhang on the deck adds architectural flare while also helping to reflect light back into the home." layout="wide" credit="Photo by Justin Kaneps" photoUserId="7103068304452968448"/>

The Design

Jon: We wanted the home to be light and airy, and to maximize the number of people that can sleep here. We knew we wanted a deck, and to capitalize on the bay view. Our plan was—and is—to be the house’s primary occupants, along with any friends we can muster, but we also knew weʼd rent the house occasionally to offset the costs. The resulting house is efficient: three small bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a loft mostly for watching movies.

Michael: The loft wasn’t part of the original plan. It got forced on us—some regulatory thing.

Jon: It was meant to be just storage and mechanicals with a ladder, but you couldn’t have a ladder. So we put in a stairway.

Michael: And if you’re going to put in a stairway, you might as well maximize what you can get up there, so it ended up being larger. It’s nice because I didn’t really want a TV down here [on the level below]. That was a must.

Merging Styles

Michael: I’m a history professor. My office is floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and messy desks and heaps of documents. There are no bookshelves here. Jon likes things a bit more minimalist than I do, but this place feels like a good mix of our tastes.

Jon: I fought for the woodstove.

Michael: It felt extraneous, but it’s worked out really well because the shoulder seasons out here are beautiful—but they’re 50 degrees.

Jon: Michael was very dedicated to finding a comfortable sofa. He vetoed a lot of sofas that I thought were beautiful. It was a service to the family that he did.

Mapplethorpe book came after the couple saw his work at the Guggenheim, and Fire Island Modernist was inspirational as they designed the house; it covers the work of Fire Island gay architect Horace Gifford. A shelf in the kitchen holds titles like The Great Believers by Rebecca Makkai and One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston. “We tend to buy each other a lot of queer fiction for birthdays and whatnot, and it eventually finds its way here,” says Michael." layout="wide" credit="Photo by Justin Kaneps" photoUserId="7103068304452968448"/>

Finding the Right Pieces

Jon: When it came to furniture, we prioritized quality—since we had to schlep all this stuff out to the island, we want it to last. It’s not that big of a house, so we wanted to use the space well. I had a printout of the floor plan and I made dimensionally accurate little cardboard chairs, couches, and tables, and I would move them around. I even 3D modeled what it would be in SketchUp to make sure everything was appropriately sized.

The Getaway Impact

Jon: Cherry Grove is sort of the anti-Getaway in many ways because it’s a fairly dense community—there are nightclubs and at least part of the culture is about partying and being social. But on the other hand, we are totally immersed in nature here. You wake up, you can hear the ocean waves. You get out of bed, you see the bay. The breeze blows through this house unlike any other house I’ve ever been in.

In my dream, this house would not have Wi-Fi, but that would mean we would be here a lot less. So we’ve made the compromise that we’ll work here sometimes, but even then it’s much easier to close the laptop and mentally check out than it is in Brooklyn.

Getting Everything to the House

Michael: It’s a huge pain to get anything here, so we wanted to do it all at once.

Jon: I bought everything before the house was nearly done, maybe before it was started. And I’m not talking about just furniture. I had laundry detergent and Ziploc bags in 2020.

Michael: It worked out fine with one small exception, which is that eventually, we got a storage unit because we couldn’t store all this stuff in our not-very-large apartment. But the storage unit that Jon elected to get was not convenient to our home in Brooklyn—it was in Long Island.

Jon: I didn’t think it through.

Michael: Every time we got a piece of furniture delivered to our apartment, one of us had to drive it out to Long Island because you can’t, it turns out, easily have the people deliver to a storage unit when you’re not there.

Jon: There’s a freight ferry that runs twice a day during the season. You pay by the pallet. So the game is to make your pallet as wide and as tall as possible.

Michael: Having all the furniture in our local storage unit meant that we could U-Haul it over. It’s no good if you’re trickling in one at a time because whether you show up with one thing or 40 things to go on one pallet, it’s the same price.

The First Night

Jon: The first time we slept here was in February 2022, the day we shipped everything over. We were both excited to finally be in. It wasn’t done; construction went on all last year, even after we had moved in. But it felt very rewarding.

Michael: Was that the time it was so windy?

Jon: Turns out, it’s really windy out here in the winter. We’ve now gotten used to it, and it’s not usually that windy, but when you’re in your new house for the first time and it starts shaking…

Michael: We called Charlie and said, “Are we going to blow away?”

Jon: Apparently his house shakes, too.

A Haven

Michael: It’s nice to sit outside in the morning and look at the water. It never gets old. I do love the sofa and just curling up with a book.

Jon: I take a bath every day.

Michael: Mostly we just really like having friends over. The house feels very lively and fun when there are six or eight people here.

Jon: We are lazy hosts. We make them cook. We make them make their own beds. They usually end up making cocktails. Our contribution is the house.

Flag of Residency

Jon: The first thing we do when we arrive is hang the rainbow flag over the boardwalk, and it’s the last thing we put away when we leave. I grew up in a marina, where people would put out flags when they were in residence, so this is our way of saying, mostly to ourselves, that weʼre here, and weʼre part of the community. My hope is that friends and neighbors will recognize the flag that way and start stopping by.

More Construction Diary stories:

A Brooklyn Couple Revive an ’80s Time Capsule in the Catskills

A Stylist and a Photographer Reenvision a 1950s Bungalow

A Ceramicist Gets Hands On While Renovating Her Midcentury Home

Project Credits:

Architect of Record: Matthew Hufft, Hufft / @_hufft

Contractor: CKP Construction

Structural Engineer: Tiderunner Engineering and Design

Cabinetry Design: Reform

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Construction Diary: The Founder of a Cabin Rental Company Builds a Fire Island Retreat of His Own