From Rags to Riches Til Death do us Part In a quaint town near lake Erie, the mild mannered Henry Thomas Belt settled into his role in life. For thirteen years he struggled to live and send enough money back home to support his family in Stamford Ontario. Not far away but in 1888 it was if you only had enough to live on. His work never allowed time enough for a visit. Now with Christmas upon him, he thought of his father and sister and how much he missed them. Early one morning he received terrible news. His boss was found murdered the night before right after he had left work. Now out of work and a prime suspect in a murder, his life seemed doomed. To prove his innocence he couldnt go to see them. Stuck in his tangled web, Henry soon discovers there are miracles along with tragedies. Thinking he was the luckiest man on earth until he hits head on with the hand of fate. Read the journal he leaves behind accounting from the time he loses his job. To being a fugitive in a strange world of twisted circumstance. Did he ever find his true love? After all! Can true love keep you alive?
It is dark and eerie in this old abandoned room of the Palmer Boarding House. With some of the wallpaper that is torn off and hanging in strips. Along with old blistered paint, that is peeling away from the wood trim. It looks tired and run down now and I feel a bit sad because of its ill kept state. This was once my room and I never would have thought Id be forced to stay here against my will. It has only been a few short months since I had to move out. Now I am back and I do not know how long I have to stay hiding in this unpleasant prison. Earlier today I had to take refuge amongst the scattered debris that was left behind in my apartment. I had heard footsteps coming up the stairs. A constable looked through the opened doorway into the room, as I watched him from the pile of boxes and old news prints. My heart beat frantically, I thought he could see me or would hear me, but he did not. He seemed satisfied that the room contained nothing more than rubbish or the occasional rat or mouse. He closed the door and continued down the hallway to check the rest of the upstairs. The officer would only find the bathroom and the small linen closet. I watched the door carefully, waiting for it to open again. To my relief, I heard him go downstairs. A little later I was sure the constable had left the building. Still I remained hidden for about two long and arduous hours. With the greatest of caution, I crawled upon my hands and knees toward the window, on the opposite side of the room. Slowly I ventured to peek out of the window with my nose pressed against the sill. There was no one to be seen on the street below. The lace curtains now tattered and dusty, blew to and fro in the breeze coming through the broken window pane. The curtains will help hide my presence here, I hope.
Feeling the stress upon myself and worried what I was to do, I sat on the floor beneath the window, with my back against the wall. My eyes focussed on the debris in the room. I was trying to sort out the thoughts that were dancing around in my head. What am I going to do now? Nearly crying out loud. Survival became my ultimate choice and I soon knew what to do. Going from one abandoned apartment to another on the first floor, with the results of a few canned goods, preserves and flour. In order to cook anything without being detected, I would have to use the wood stove in Mrs. Lawrences old apartment downstairs. The brick buildings were constructed so close together that they had to join into one chimney. They would think that the smoke was coming from the other apartment house. The water at first reeked with reddish brown rust from the old pipes. It was difficult to locate a decent cooking pot without a hole in the bottom. Miss. Palmers apartment yielded the greatest treasur
