1982 Gina whispered, “Things are going to be okay now, they will take us away to a better home or maybe back to our parents!!” as we nodded our heads believing her. I was the youngest at age 10; then there was Patti, who was a year older; and Gina, who was the eldest and also our fearless leader, who tried so hard to keep us safe. Earlier that day, we’d…

I recently discovered the joys and frustrations involved in digging through old archives – frustrations, for example, like too many files, indecipherable handwriting, and constant sneezing; joys like reading the stories of everyday people from decades past, days upon days spent reading in solitude, and -- most importantly -- accidentally discovering old-timey mysteries.

I've left the archives now and returned to my pedestrian life as a grad student, but the story of Mrs. Beattie…