11 February 1826

Dear Diary,

The first family story I heard as a little girl was the one about my grandmother's great grandfather who was a sea captain in Portland, Maine who died of yellow fever in the West Indies and was buried at sea.  The first thing I did when I became my research years ago was to find the cemetery where his wife and two of his daughters were buried.  There was an empty space between them and I found that especially haunting but I was never able to verify the story which is written in my great grandmother's delicate hand in the old family bible.

Until last week.  I've finally found out where and when he died.  I was told it was in 1828 but actually he died at Guadalupe in the West Indies on 11 February 1826...190 years ago today.  I also learned that he had come home to Portland for Christmas and left on his final voyage on December 27th.  Finally, after all these years I have been able to complete the story of his life.  He was just 42 when he died and he left a 36 year old wife and six children.  One of the most touching things I discovered was that the name of his ship was the Rebecca, his wife's name.  Rebecca's father was a shipbuilding in Portland so I'm guessing this is one of his ships that he christened after his daughter and put his son-in-law at the helm.

Creating my collage, which I posted on Tuesday, along with the class I took back in October gave me the idea to honor him by creating a virtual headstone and placing it in the empty spot in the cemetery.  The word "cenotaph" was used on stones to indicate the person was buried elsewhere.  The sailing ship was another 19th century device to indicate the person was a sailor and that he died at sea.

Someday I hope to have a real stone installed for him and to right the ones of his wife and daughter which have fallen over and are nearly illegible.  But for now, this is my tribute to him.  His story is now told and I've only given an abbreviated one here.  It warms my heart to be able to set things right after 190 years.