Authors: Triss Stein
“So I did go to Paris,” he told me, “and I stayed until the war trapped me there. Before I made it home, they had died in the same year, as if they could not live without each other. They were buried in Staten Island, of all places. I really didn't know their daughter and I had no real interest in my Konick connections either, so that was that.”
He didn't know how the letters to River Bend ended up in Maude's Brooklyn home and we never did find out. My guess is that they were sent back to her after her mother's death, when the house in Illinois was sold. Or her sister kept them with other family papers and they were sent back to Maude's daughter years later. It was just one of those little family stories that got lost along the way.
One warm spring day, before he went to the shore for the summer, I picked James Konick up in Brooklyn Heights and drove him over to Green-Wood. He was silent in the car all the way up the hill to the Konick mausoleum. It wasn't until we got there that he said to me, “I loved her, you know. Loved her as an aunt and maybe a bit more. She was middle-aged by the time I met her, but still a lovely woman in every way.”
Maude's window was in its full beauty that day, the spring sun streaming through the brilliant glass. He had a bouquet of flame-striped tulips to put in front of it and he stood there for a long moment, his hat against his heart.
Since
Brooklyn Graves
is a blend of actual history and fictional (but possible) history, here is an explanation of which is which.
Green-Wood Cemetery is, of course, a real place and is even more beautiful and fascinating than I have described here. The facts and most of the physical description are as accurate as I can make them. All the events, personnel and policies are entirely products of my imagination.
The earlier theft of valuable windows and statues from old churches and cemeteries, discussed here, did happen and was, in part, the inspiration for this book. The all-female Tiffany design studio did exist and Clara Driscoll, mentioned here, was its director. Maude and her letters are my own creation.
Erica's museum may resemble a real place in its physical description and location but everything else I have written about it is entirely a product of my imagination.
The Konick family is also imaginary, but grounded in the history of the Dutch in New York, including the centuries-long pride in their heritage and continuing social connection among the descendents.
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