Let There Be Light

The rivalry reached fever pitch in 2001 with Steve's magnum opus: an 8-by-16-foot American flag.

The heat from the glowing monstrosity melted all snow within two feet. The sheer number of bulbs, 6,000 in all, required 12 extension cords, six outlets and a 30-amp circuit breaker.

Richard countered with a 28-foot Christmas tree in lights nailed to the side of his house. But even then, Steve's flag won the day.

* * *

As years passed, they began calling themselves illumination artists. Each emerged with a style of his own.

Steve was all about raw power and bright lights. Richard was more artistic. He color-coordinated his bulbs and pruned his holly trees. Steve put it this way: "He's a little more namby-pamby, Martha Stewart-y about it all."

Part of that had to do with Richard's spouse. Although each wife disliked her husband's obsession, Eileen tended to be a little less vocal when it was tastefully done.

"She wouldn't touch a light bulb if her life depended on it," Richard said, "But underneath it all, I think she loved it. Both our wives did."

That's what made it so hard this year, he said. It was just over a year ago -- as Christmas and another battle of lights drew near -- that things fell apart.

It happened so suddenly. For several months, Eileen, 51, had been feeling dizzy. After administering a battery of tests, her doctors suspected a minor ear infection. She took a few months off work and seemed to improve.

Then came Thanksgiving, when a brain aneurysm claimed her life.

Steve was the first person to arrive at the house after the ambulance. The cops told him to stay with Richard, to keep him calm. It was Steve who called the funeral home and watched as Richard broke the news to his daughter in New Jersey.