A Tombstone Tells Its Story
My story about the 1893 murder of a police officer that outraged an entire county and reverberated for decades sprang from a chance encounter with a very unusual tombstone.
A child misses the nuance in an adult’s sarcasm, and the heartache lasts a lifetime. For children of all ages who have ever loved—or yearned for—a tricycle comes a grandmother’s century-old remembrance of a heart’s desire unfulfilled.
A family’s loss of a 20-year-old WWII Navy aviator resonates across six decades. The common thread to all such stories is their ability to overwhelm us with sadness. When relatives leave us too soon, a special responsibility passes to us as family historians — to tell the story and bear witness to a life that mattered perhaps all the more because of its brevity.
My Navy Blue Hawaii
A free trip to Hawaii has deeper meaning than beaches and umbrella drinks. A follow-up to Too Soon.
The Report of My Death was an Exaggeration
Obituaries can open doors for any family historian. You can find dates, names, relationships, and residences. But what do you do with the obituary that was written before a person’s death?