Help From the Beyond

Some authors believe their works are a singular accomplishment; their work the result of sitting alone at the word processor and turning glorious thoughts into prose. They are convinced they and no one else should get credit for the finished novel. I was one of those authors and I was wrong. My story is a collaboration of too many to count or even remember. There are those I know helped me out, but others who are lost in time provided those seeds that grew into sentences, paragraphs and chapters.

In addition to those people who helped, I received aid from other sources. Some may even say, help from beyond. I believe my constant attention to my dead relatives opened a portal between their existence and mine. Bare with me here. There were several incidents that cannot be explained by coincidence. Such as information I obtained concerning Massey's second trip to America.

During my original research for Ikons, I found Massey’s citizenship application where he claimed the ship he came to America on was called the SS Ventura. I found a book in the Dayton library listing steamships and their history. It turned out the Ventura was a lumber boat hauling wood between Yokohama, Japan and Spokane, Washington. This caused me to wonder, what the heck was a Russian immigrant doing a lumber boat?
I also noted that Massey’s date of crossing was very close to the date of the Titanic sinking, 14 April 1912. I figured I could add the Titanic sinking to my story by placing the Ventura in the shipping lane and have it look for survivors. So I dug into the library’s basement and looked for old volumes about the Titanic. I wanted to get a book from that time period so I could write about the sinking using the language of the period.

I found a book on shipwrecks, took it home and started reading about the Titanic.  For some reason, I set the open book down on the kitchen table and went to get a drink of water.  While getting my water, the pages of the book started turning.  I stood there and watched the pages flip until they stopped.  The hair on my arms rose (really) as I walked over to the table and looked at the section where the pages stopped.

The chapter read, “Disaster on Immigrant Ship.”  The story told of a ship called the SS Volturno, which caught fire and sank in the Atlantic in 1913 killing over 136 people.  The story said the Volturno was an immigrant ship running between Rotterdam and Halifax.  Massey’s papers said he came in through Halifax.

I wrote to the Port of Halifax and asked if it was possible Massey came in the Volturno in April of 1912.  A month later I got a package from Canada verifying Massey had indeed landed there.  They sent me a copy of the ships original manifest listing Massey and a few other Russians on board.  It said it was his second trip to America and was headed to Rockdale, Illinois.

SS Volturno

For the longest time I thought it was Massey helping me out from beyond the grave.  But the more I thought about and remembering my father telling me Akulina had the “gift,” I decided it was she assisting the grandson she had never met.  There may be more logical explanations, but I prefer this one.