Ever wonder about the people who used to live in your house? Were they happy living there? Were they nice? Did they have a zillion dogs, or a gaggle of happy children? And ever let your mind wander and wonder what you might find left behind in the back of a closet or under a floorboard?
Our tenants, who resided in the red house when we bought it, had been there for ten or so years before we began demolition this fall. They told us that there were two benevolent ghosts, one who smoked and one who turned on the lights and often cooked bacon in the wee hours of the morning, especially near Thanksgiving.
I am sure the number of stories of the red house formed during its six lives spanning two plus centuries are enough to make my head spin.
A few weeks ago we discovered generous clues to the story of one of the owners of the red house, Miss Hague; three letters written to Miss Hague and a fistful of her cancelled checks in the walls of one of the downstairs rooms.
For starters, here is an excerpt of a letter written to Miss Hague from Joseph Choate Jr., dated January 10th, 1896.
Thursday, January 10, 1896
Many thanks for you letter of December twenty seven, which arrived duly, and gave me great and unusual pleasure. I was a little enisled knowing that no letter would come from you for a month of so after your departure, I imagine no one could reach you for a similar period. Which shows what the study of logic will do for me.
And now I am off and running, talking to neighbors, scouring the Internet, trying to fill in her story.