The following is another short and interesting item by my friend, Tom Fiske:
I still have the letter. Although the envelope had been mailed sixty years ago, when I saw the handwriting I knew who had written it: my grandmother. Her old letter arrived with a package of news clippings and other artifacts that a distant cousin had sent in 1997.
My Kentucky grandmother wrote to her cousin in Seattle, Washington, about “the tragedy” and how God watched over us and all. But she did not explain what the tragedy was. I knew that the cousin, a woman with the odd name of Henri had died in a tragic fire in her apartment. I also knew that she had been a wealthy socialite, the mother of two boys. Something in her life had caused her to consume large quantities of alcohol.
While looking through the 1930 census, I found Henri’s family and the names of the two sons. One was named Bill, he was the oldest, and the other was Tommy. And then somehow I learned that Tommy had been killed. I asked the State of Washington for his death certificate. It eventually arrived, saying Tommy had been killed in an automobile accident in 1937. Finally, the pieces were coming together.
For the last couple of years I have been helping an author with his book about the lumber industry in Washington State, and the families involved in that industry. Henri’s was one of those rich and powerful families he was interested in. (He sent me a copy of Life Magazine from the late 1950’s showing them entertaining the governor of Washington and other dignitaries.) We swapped emails about Henri over the months and one day he confided in me, “One of my good friends just died recently. He had been sitting in the passenger seat of the car in which Tommy was killed in 1937. I asked him what the authorities did with the drunk who killed Tommy. He told me they did nothing. There was no trial. The man who did it had his house burn down with him in it.”
Then the author asked if I had a suspicious mind. I don’t, unless I have a reason to. Now, maybe I do. But, will I research the death of a drunk driver in Washington State? I thought about it. And decided to let well enough alone.