Some years back, I was doing a cemetery walk with friends. While trying to talk about styles of grave markers, I had a momentary brain freeze and sputtered: “One of those… Oh, you know! The sticky-up kind!”
It was not a great moment for me, although my friends thought it was hilarious. So to spare you a similar moment, I’ve put together a few examples.
The watchmaker, the seamstress, and a mystery.
Last I left off, I was researching Richard Schober at the Newberry Library. He was not my only find that day. Nor the biggest find.
Back then, the Newberry was a rare place offering free access to the Chicago Tribune’s digital archives. I was full of confidence after my first stab at detective work, so I decided to keep going. I knew had relatives in Chicago at the turn of the 20th century. Maybe I could find a marriage announcement or something. Without too much thought, I typed my surname into the search box.
I hope you’re hearing the alarm blaring in your head. I did not hear it in mine.
Graveyard Snoop 