Creating Fiction From History: 2/9/2022

Newsflash!

The Archduke of Austria had not been kidnapped he had been outright killed. Assassinated!

Both the Archduke and his wife Sophie were shot and killed as they traveled through the streets of Sarajevo on the 28th of June, 1914. The Winchesters, as soon as they heard the first inklings of trouble brewing in Europe, had begun to religiously listen to the news programs every night. Even though they received some headlines via The Luxembourg, more often than not, they had already heard the headlines several days previous to reading it.

Several years after the assassination, when America finally joined the fray, Charlie joined his older brother, aunt, and uncle as they entered the theater of the war that was to end all wars.

The rain that had begun to fall on that cold day in November of 1917 caused a roaring flood that swept away, not only his beloved aunt but his dear older brother as well. Charlie had survived the war and his walk through the streets of Hell, but Hell haunted his steps for the rest of his life.

Although he came from a fairly wealthy family in Dubuque, Iowa (a large city for the times) Charlie had learned to be self-sufficient from an early age. Charlie, having run his own business since he was eight, had accrued a fairly substantial account with Wells-Fargo. That, together with the contacts he had made in his decade of shining shoes enabled him to pick up where he had left off, upon his return from the European Theater. He immediately hired several street urchins who otherwise would just have become troublemakers on the streets of the big, bustling metropolis.

He made quite a name for himself on the busy streets of Dubuque, where he became known as "The Shoeshine King," but Charlie would never be the same fun-loving eight-year-old who had ventured out so bravely into the mean streets. The War in Europe was in the past, for a few decades anyway, but the war in his mind had begun on that rainy, cold November day.

This column utilizes photos of unknowns provided by the Jefferson Valley Museum to create a possible scenario for the photo. The stories are not historically accurate, for the most part; the authors do research the photos but take liberties for creative purposes.

If you would like to create fiction from history with one of the museum's photos, please contact the Ledger at (406) 287-5301 or email whledger@gmail.com.