A lot of adventures begin in the minds of children rambling around dark corners of an old camel-back trunk. Hidden deep in the corners of the musty old treasure chest were secrets of vast proportions about things kids should not question. For a child to get in the trunk was a death-defying act. But the curious minds of children pushed that thought aside for another day. Hidden in the trunk were strange relics of years gone by. An old paper umbrella from the orient tucked safely away was someone's souvenir. A pair of old wire-rimmed glasses rested on the tray. On the bottom of the old trunk, a woman's black hat laid with a veil stretched across the front to be pulled down over the eyes. Women wore black hats at a funeral or at church on Sunday.
There were notepads for the farm and lists of the cotton crop sold and livestock bought. Old black and white photos of people not smiling and awkwardly poised stashed away in the trunk's tray protected in plastic. Envelopes of newspaper clippings contained articles about someone who had died, and the names were vague about who they were. Everybody just assumed it was a past relative. Most of the articles had already turned brown from age. A more recent relative clipped the articles from the newspaper and stashed them away to read at a later time less difficult about the departed loved one.
Four old newspaper clippings from years and years ago captivated the minds of everyone. Being in the trunk was risky enough as it was, but to ask who the articles were about was a death sentence. It would be almost a century before anyone would go back to piece together those articles and finally learn just who Wash Smith was. After careful research, his story unfolded before our very eyes. A story of youth, love, and adventure came together, and it all started at the bottom of an old musty trunk.
