Sometimes dreams do come true...
Twenty-one year old Tom Jewett has embarked on a new career. His new job as a cub journalist with the Traber Herald sends him and his wife, Sally, to Traber, Colorado, the birthplace of Tom's great grandfather. Almost immediately after settling into their new Victorian fixer-upper, Tom's dreams begin. But, are these dreams of an old room decorated with antiques and dimly lit with kerosene lamps–simply dreams? Maybe, just maybe, the room does exist.
Excerpt
"Well? What do you think?" Tom asked Sally, as he pulled into the driveway of their new home. It was nine a.m. on Tuesday, September 10 2002, the beginning of their new life in Traber, Colorado.
Twenty-one year old Thomas Jewett was embarking on his career in writing, having landed a job as a cub journalist for the Traber Herald. It was a good opportunity, not great, but he was anxious to begin writing for a living and Colorado was as good a place as any-maybe better than most. Traber, located in the front range of the Rocky Mountains was an ideal setting for his true passion of fiction writing, a love that had been placed on the back burner by the need for an income.
Tom and Sally had been married straight out of high school and Sally had worked at the local Wal-Mart in Carthage, Nebraska, supporting, or trying to support Tom and his college career at Carthage Community College. It had been a rough two years, but the opportunity for Tom to join the Traber Herald had raised their spirits considerably. His father's graduation present, the down payment on their new home, had raised them even higher.
"It's okay," Sally, answered, studying the large Victorian home Tom had purchased sight unseen. "It looked a little better in the photographs, but 'fixer-upper' did describe it well."
"Yeah, but look at it. It's so cool. It was built in 1887," Tom said, suggesting that the antiquity of it made it somehow better than a newer home might be.
"Yes-I know. You've mentioned that at least a dozen times already. But what I see is one hell of a lot of work!" Sally complained.
"Come on, Sally. It's not that bad. It'll be fun fixing her up, and besides, you're going to need something to keep you busy while I'm at the Herald," Tom said, trying to bolster Sally's low level of enthusiasm for their new home. "And besides, Traber is like home, sort of."
"Why? Because your great grandfather was born and raised here?" Sally said dryly. "You've told me that I don't know how many times, too."
"Well-Yeah. That's kinda neat, isn't it? I mean, just think-my great grandfather might have come to visit someone who lived in this very house once upon a time."
"Yeah, right," Sally said, sarcastically. "And maybe he even lived in this house."
"No. I checked. His home burned to the ground in 1882. That's when he moved east to Carthage," Tom explained.
"Huh-I wonder where it was then?" Sally said.
"Number seventy-two Oliver Road, according to his family Bible, but I checked on the Internet for that address and it doesn't exist any longer-according to Yahoo, anyway."
"Still. We could find Oliver Road, look at the addresses, and figure out where it used to be, couldn't we?" Sally asked.
"We could if Oliver Road still existed. But from what I was able to determine on the Internet it doesn't exist any longer either. That was over a hundred years ago that the house burned down, Sally. Things can change a lot in that amount of time."
"Are you sure about the address? Maybe the address in the Bible was from a newer home of your great grandfather's," Sally speculated.
"Nope. My great grandmother wrote the passage inside the front cover. It says something like, 'Our beautiful home at 72 Oliver Road in Traber, Colorado burned to the ground on April 7, 1882. All of our possessions were lost, save this Bible, which Oliver rescued from the parlor as we fled our burning home.' The passage was signed, Emma Jewett."
"So Oliver Road was named after your great grandfather?" Sally asked, her interest in the history of seventy-two Oliver Road growing.
"Or he named it after himself. But whatever the circumstances were, the fire erased the house and a hundred and twenty years have erased the street. It doesn't exist any longer," Tom insisted.
"Maybe Yahoo is wrong. Maybe the town is so small that Yahoo doesn't have complete information on it," Sally persisted.
"Well then neither does MapQuest or MapBlast. I checked them all. Oliver Road is gone from Traber."
"Well, maybe after we get settled we'll go see if we can find out in the county records or something," Sally replied. "Ready to go in?" she asked.
"I suppose I am. When did you arrange for the movers to bring our stuff?"
"Today, if they stay on schedule. I figured we would go in, take a look at the place, and then go check into our cabin. Then we can come back and supervise the unloading of our stuff, sleep at the cabin for the night and begin organizing everything tomorrow. Sound like a plan?" Sally asked, smiling at Tom.
"Sounds like a plan-But, what cabin?" Tom asked.
"I made reservations at a place called Pine Haven for tonight. We get our own little cabin all to ourselves," Sally replied, smiling her come-hither smile.
"Gee, we need to talk more often. When did you do that?"
"About a week ago when I got the moving arrangements all worked out."
"Huh-Okay-So let's go in and check out the house."
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