From The Stuff Legends are Made

“For Jesus him self testified that a prophet hath no honor in his own country.” John 4:44

There was nothing I loved more when I was a child, than to have my Grandmother make me a toasted tomato sandwich and sit across from me to play a game of cards. One afternoon as the rain beat against the dinning room window and the lights flickered above the kitchen sink, she told me a story that would become my shadow.

"You must always be thankful for your life Tami, for you ought not to exist!"

It got more than my attention, it rang so true I felt it.

"Did you know my father died when I was three?"

"No", I said. "Do you remember him?"

"Not really." She said. "But there are times when I get a faint whiff of tobacco and I remember something. You see, we lived above a cigar shop in the heart of Halifax. My father was an electrical foreman at the Halifax Ship Yards putting in time until his promotion came through. The war had ended, Halifax was rebuilding after the explosion and our family had their sights on a bigger city! The knock rang through the flat that morning. Mother practically ran to the door thinking it was a telegraph confirming the new position, but instead she was greeted with the news her husband had died. Accidental electrocution. The promotion notice came the next day. Within a few days Mother would learn that the person who received that promotion was the same person responsible for forgetting to turn off the electrical current. No one in our family believed it was an accident. So you see Tami, had our family moved away, I never would have met your grandfather, given birth to your mother nor she to you."

It was an unbelievable story, one my 7 year brain couldn't totally get around. Did his death really give me life? I would ask to hear the story over and over and loved how it changed a little here and there. This is my research into my Great Grandfather's death. I've found and continue to find interesting side stories, the good and the bad, and the swept under the rug stories belonging to every family.

My Grandmother passed away surrounded by her family in the winter of 2007. She loved to talk about my progress and thought every detail was "interesting", "it's a shame we don't speak more of the dead" she'd say to me. This is for her!