Daydream On Elm Street

"You can tell it's graduation in a college town," said Zach. "I passed three different parties on my way back from lunch. They're all busy getting drunk at...." He looked at his phone. "Three-thirty in the afternoon."
"Hope they don't trash the places too badly," I said. "A lot of the college kids live in historic homes that have been sectioned off for rental. I've done investigations in some of them."
"I could have gotten free drinks on my break if I'd wanted," said Zach.
"Yeah, I could go for that," I said. "I've been looking into one of the old houses up on Fairview Street. Belonged to one of the old bootleggers, and I'm working on a column about it. I'd love to get some more information about it, maybe some photos."
"You could always just ask," Zach suggested. "Most of the college kids are pretty open."
"I suppose," I said. "Most of the college kids don't have any understanding of the history of their places, though. What I'd need to do is get inside somehow, and sneak around."
After work, I stood on the sidewalk on Fairview Street, looking at the house. The kids inside were having a party, and the music was blasting. I put my hands in my pockets for a minute, looking things over.
Five minutes later, I was inside.
"PARTY!" I shouted, holding up a beer. "Hey, what year was this place built, anyway?"

I was standing at the grocery store, buying milk and chocolate sauce. Now that Paul had learned to love chocolate milk, we always needed milk and chocolate sauce.
"Hey, Lou," said Juli, one of the local cashiers. They all knew me. "I just moved into a new place, and I was wondering about it. One of the neighbors told me someone drowned a baby in the tub?"
I frowned. "I doubt it, Juli. I'll look into it, but I think I'd know."
"Well, good. I'm just as happy if nobody murdered a baby."
One of the other cashiers, a newer girl, looked at me. "How would you know?"
I laughed. "It's what I do. I'm a paranormal investigator and a history writer. That's the kind of thing that would have stuck in my memory."
"Oh, really? Cool."
"If your place is haunted, Lou is the one you want to talk to," said Juli.
"I'll check into it for you," I said. "See what I can find out."

It was a rainy morning. I was going to do some writing, make some groundbreaking discoveries, and change history as we know it.
But first, coffee.
"Tell me there's coffee," I said to Barb at the desk.
"Not yet," she said. "I've been busy."
"I'll make some."
I started the coffee, and then took a cup to my desk in my Bigfoot mug. Sitting down, I began to write a column about the Tiadaghton Elm. I went and got one of our history books for reference, paging through, and I noticed a notation that information had come from an article in the Clinton Democrat on July 12, 1918.
It was a slow morning, so my coffee and I went to look at the article. I inserted it into the machine and fast-forwarded it with one hand while I drank coffee with the other. I found the article in about two minutes, because if I wasn't good at this, I'd have to find a real job.
It was on page four. I printed off a copy, and read through it. And then I saw something that made me almost spill the coffee on my Roswell: Green Since 1947 T-shirt.
"Holy...."

"The Tiadaghton Elm," I said. "Everyone knows this story. On July 4, 1776, a group of local men called the Fair Play Men gathered under the Tiadaghton Elm in Pine Creek, to sign a Declaration of Independence. They didn't know that the Founding Fathers were signing one in Philadelphia on the same day. They sent their document out to be delivered, but were told that one had already been sent. So they came back here, and buried their Declaration somewhere on or near the grounds of the fort where they lived."
Kara sat across from me in my office at the Piper Museum. I said,"I've looked into finding the document---It may actually be in a grave. But look at this---In July of 1918, there was a big ceremony under the tree to commemorate the signing. In this article, down here, they mention that a committee figured out that the document was signed under the Tiadaghton Elm----Before 1918, they say, nobody knew the location and it was all word of mouth."
Kara studied the article. "Okay, that's interesting. I never realized that."
"It's about to get a bit more interesting. Turns out, the committee included local man John Chatham, who I know to be a notorious bullshitter. He's the guy who caused the Widow Smith debacle a few months back---Chatham had no problem making up a story, or embellishing it."
Kara was looking at the article. "So you think he did that here?"
"I'm starting to think it's likely. I checked for mentions of the Tiadaghton Elm before 1918. There's nothing. Linn doesn't mention it, Meginness doesn't mention it. No newspapers. Nobody ever brings up the Elm previous to a hundred years ago."
"Where do the others say it happened?"
"They're vague---All they mention is the plains of Pine Creek. Which could be practically anywhere in that neighborhood. But wait...." I flipped through my photocopies and brought one out. "I did find a 1914 article that mentions all the old stories handed down orally, and talks about it happening in a schoolhouse."
"That would make sense," admitted Kara. "Given that they were actually committing treason, they wouldn't have wanted to do it out in the open."
"True. And I checked the 1862 map. I did find a schoolhouse, no longer there, about half a mile west of the elm site. That's most likely the place where the signing took place---The elm had nothing to do with it. I'm meeting with some of my contacts from the Jersey Shore Historical Society on Thursday, and they're gonna see what information they have."
Kara looked at me. Her eyes lit up. "Do you realize what this means?"
I nodded. "It's like twelve years ago, when I discovered the location of Fort Reed wasn't where everyone thought it was. This is groundbreaking. We're changing history here."

Slow day. I was on desk. I did what I always do on desk; I looked into an old mystery. I wonder what it's like to work at the grocery store.
I dug into Juli's house a bit. It appeared on the Sanborn maps as far back as 1901, so I went back and checked on the 1862 map. A smaller variety of the house was there; it had clearly had some work done. I grabbed the city directories.
City directories are awesome; they're like a reverse phone book showing who lived in what house. I checked Juli's. The earliest family I could find were the Van Dykes and Kaufmans, an extended family who'd shared the property. A quick check of the obit indexes showed me that the families were big in the hardware industry in Lock Haven.
I ran through the directories, and found nothing to suggest that the baby story had actually happened. Sometimes rumors just get started; I don't know how. It would make Juli happy.
This may be setting the bar really low. But it's always a good day when you don't discover a dead baby.

"So where was the school?" Tina asked. Tina is one of my contacts with the Jersey Shore Historical Society, and we'd held some good events together in the past. She'd dropped by the library to see what I had, and I'd shown her my articles and photocopies.
"Right....Here." I pointed to the 1862 map, which had the small black mark labelled School. "It's at this intersection. The school no longer stands, but you can still find the spot."
"Is the intersection still there?"
"Oh, yeah, it's the corner of, what, Tiadaghton Avenue and Old River Road. it's about a half mile from the old elm site."
Tina shook her head. "Remarkable. And there's no mention of the elm before 1918?"
"Nothing. I checked everything I could find."
"What does Meginness say?"
I pulled out a copy. "This one's Meginness. He says it was on the plains of Pine Creek, which could have been anywhere in the neighborhood."
"You know, I always wondered why the blue marker for the elm was way out on 220."
"I'd bet that PHMC was a little dubious on the evidence, too. I've seen this before. About twelve years ago, I found out that Fort Reed wasn't where people thought it was, either. I was able to place it a few blocks to the east of where everyone assumed. I got hate mail over that. You'll notice the blue marker for Fort Reed is way the hell on the other end of town, too, for the same reason."
"You're gonna get hate mail over this, too," said Tina. "What's your next step?"
"I'd love to make this into some sort of program for the society," I said. "A speech or something. And I'll be writing it up for the papers. I'll keep you updated."

"Tell me where," said Kara.
"Up ahead is the elm site," I said. "See, where the bridge---"
"I know where the elm site is. You took me there once. Where's the school?"
"Well, where was the school," I said. "There's not even the foundation anymore. This is all farmland, it's been plowed over like a million times. Turn around."
"You spoke to the Jersey Shore Historical Society?"
I nodded. "The Jersey Shore Historical Society has the most to lose here. They hold events, they promote this thing. They're the most heavily invested in the Tiadaghton Elm, and they're okay with it."
Kara slowed down and spun her car around, heading back the way we'd come. We drove back toward the intersection, and I said,"Here's the place."
"On that side?"
"Yep. On this side."
Kara slowed down, and we looked over the field. There was nothing to see there anymore, but based on the map, I knew where the spot was.
"I figure it's within twelve feet or so," I said. "This is where the school house was. This is where they made history."

"Hi, Lou," said Laukeshia, coming in the door to the library. "I'm here for a meeting tonight?"
"Oh, yeah," I said. "Third floor. Go on up."
"By the way," she said,"I forgot to e-mail you. Your article on the Giwoggle was great---We got more hits on that than any other piece on our website. Nice job."
I smiled. "Thanks, Laukeshia. I have a few other things in mind."
"Looking forward to it."
She walked upstairs. I turned and walked back to my office.
I sat down at my desk, and began typing.
Let the hate mail commence.