The essence of Ruth Squire as a main character emerged in increments, although the character is based on my own paternal grandmother. AN UNLIKELY ARRANGEMENT tells the story of two strangers forced together by parents eager to make a successful match. the blurred edges of the story extol many actual events in her life, but the tale of Peter Kirby is ripped from my imagination. You see, I knew my grandmother, but never met Mr. Kirby. My father was ten months old when Peter died in a terrible accident. Dad spent much of his life searching for answers about him - where he came from, where he worked, did they love each other?
Ruth chose to leave that part of her life behind. She left Michigan with my father, and married another man, had three other children, and concentrated on pretending the awful episode never happened. Unfortunately, dad never found out much about Peter. There are a couple of old pictures, but nothing else. No family to ask, nothing. My dad died seventeen years ago, all those questions still unanswered.
Several years ago, Peter's name popped into my mind over and over. I dreamed about him, stared at the few pictures in my possession, and my curiosity grew, became an obsession, almost as if he called to me, and wanted me to find him. The popular genealogy sites yielded nothing. I asked my mother questions, but the years faded her memory. She couldn't help me. All I knew was his name and the year he died.
One day, I sat on my lovely new deck, grandfather whirling around in my mind, and found myself talking out loud to him.
"Peter, where are you? How do I find you? Why are you in my mind?" The white clouds drifted across the azure sky, but no answer from above.
The next morning, while reading e-mails, a particular piece from a genealogy site I recently joined showed in my box. A green leaf appeared in the body of the text. It wasn't about Peter, but another branch of the family. I'd looked around on this site, but really didn't get anywhere. Frustrated, I put a message on the message board under the surname Kirby, and posted it. What happened after that is amazing. Someone messaged me with a census record of my grandfather, saying after 1924 he disappeared, so it had to be the right one. From there, I found the marriage record of my grandparents, records on THEIR parents, and my grandfather's draft card registration. I didn't know he was in WW I. One after the other, records started showing up, and people emailed me with new information. I found out where he worked, where they lived. A new world of information materialized. The most exciting piece was from someone who suggested I look on FindAGrave.com to see if I could determine where he was buried. I remember being in my office on a Sunday afternoon typing his name in the search box. His grave marker popped up on my screen as big as you please, in COLOR! Peter Kirby - Dec. 26, 1924. It was him. I went to my knees. The photograph had a name and e-mail attached to it, and I immediately sent a message to the gentleman who took the picture. I asked if he was family, and why he took the picture. I told him how long I'd been looking. He sent a message right back, and said he took the picture about a year ago. A year ago!! He's a genealogy researcher, and was on another assignment when he spotted a military section of the cemetary he was working in. He took a picture of each grave, and posted them. I never would have found it, if not for him. You see, I have yet to find his obituary or any newspaper clipping about the fiery accident. For those of you who know alot about your family history and background, you may not know what a thrill it was to find that piece of my history. I felt like an adopted child who just found their birth parents. It was remarkable.
I continue to research my family, and find new tidbits here and there. A whole new section of friends has emerged as I find my way through the maze, kind and caring people who want to help me find my roots. Needless to say, my novel takes on new meaning for me, and I write with more gusto. You never know where the inspiration will come from, keep your mind open, and embrace all your experiences as pages in the novel of life.
I'm almost finished editing this book, and I hope I find a home for it. There is an excerpt on the Blog Tab.
Patty Wiseman
Ruth chose to leave that part of her life behind. She left Michigan with my father, and married another man, had three other children, and concentrated on pretending the awful episode never happened. Unfortunately, dad never found out much about Peter. There are a couple of old pictures, but nothing else. No family to ask, nothing. My dad died seventeen years ago, all those questions still unanswered.
Several years ago, Peter's name popped into my mind over and over. I dreamed about him, stared at the few pictures in my possession, and my curiosity grew, became an obsession, almost as if he called to me, and wanted me to find him. The popular genealogy sites yielded nothing. I asked my mother questions, but the years faded her memory. She couldn't help me. All I knew was his name and the year he died.
One day, I sat on my lovely new deck, grandfather whirling around in my mind, and found myself talking out loud to him.
"Peter, where are you? How do I find you? Why are you in my mind?" The white clouds drifted across the azure sky, but no answer from above.
The next morning, while reading e-mails, a particular piece from a genealogy site I recently joined showed in my box. A green leaf appeared in the body of the text. It wasn't about Peter, but another branch of the family. I'd looked around on this site, but really didn't get anywhere. Frustrated, I put a message on the message board under the surname Kirby, and posted it. What happened after that is amazing. Someone messaged me with a census record of my grandfather, saying after 1924 he disappeared, so it had to be the right one. From there, I found the marriage record of my grandparents, records on THEIR parents, and my grandfather's draft card registration. I didn't know he was in WW I. One after the other, records started showing up, and people emailed me with new information. I found out where he worked, where they lived. A new world of information materialized. The most exciting piece was from someone who suggested I look on FindAGrave.com to see if I could determine where he was buried. I remember being in my office on a Sunday afternoon typing his name in the search box. His grave marker popped up on my screen as big as you please, in COLOR! Peter Kirby - Dec. 26, 1924. It was him. I went to my knees. The photograph had a name and e-mail attached to it, and I immediately sent a message to the gentleman who took the picture. I asked if he was family, and why he took the picture. I told him how long I'd been looking. He sent a message right back, and said he took the picture about a year ago. A year ago!! He's a genealogy researcher, and was on another assignment when he spotted a military section of the cemetary he was working in. He took a picture of each grave, and posted them. I never would have found it, if not for him. You see, I have yet to find his obituary or any newspaper clipping about the fiery accident. For those of you who know alot about your family history and background, you may not know what a thrill it was to find that piece of my history. I felt like an adopted child who just found their birth parents. It was remarkable.
I continue to research my family, and find new tidbits here and there. A whole new section of friends has emerged as I find my way through the maze, kind and caring people who want to help me find my roots. Needless to say, my novel takes on new meaning for me, and I write with more gusto. You never know where the inspiration will come from, keep your mind open, and embrace all your experiences as pages in the novel of life.
I'm almost finished editing this book, and I hope I find a home for it. There is an excerpt on the Blog Tab.
Patty Wiseman