So, I's insulatin' the attic, eh, and, uh, I finds me this package.
It was neatly packed in kraft paper and bound with string. Actually, it wasn't in the attic, but in the wallthe knee wall to be exact. It's the bottom half of the walls in a room which has a vaulted ceiling. Basically, this is dead space that hasn't been disturbed since, well, the postage date on this package is 1962, so that's 47 years.
FORTY-SEVEN YEARS!
Right, so I found this package so neatly bound and tore into it and discovered a bevy of interesting things. Portraits, photographs and love letters. The letters were written to a woman who once lived here in my house from a man who was temporarily in Jamaica. Apparently, she was a clerk at the Don Mills Public Library and he, well, he was on the run. They were crazy in love and he had to leave the country for some nefarious reasons.
The letters are fantastic, but the most exciting bits from the package were the two portraits painted from black and white photos with colour information scribbled on the back of each. I'm pretty sure some one really wants these thingsI know I would. I've tried looking up the names in the online phone book and came up with nothing. A Google search gave me only three listings of the woman (if that's still her name) all relating to library work with no contact information.
I wonder if I should publish their names and maybe some more of the images to this blog in hopes that a relation might find me. I'd like to return these possibly precious items to the original ownersor their family in the very least.
[Let me know what you think-should I print the names listed lest the family find them or not?]
