The Life of Byron

I owe Carmi Cimicata a big thank you for the care package of vintage photos she mailed to me last week. Let me tell you, it acted just like catnip to my Leo senses—I think I actually meowed.
Anyway, in amongst the pictures Carmi sent me was this one of a baby with the face and posture of a grown up, and written on the back was “Byron Blackthorn Hawksridge 2nd, Aged 10 months.” Yes, I know it sounds like the name of a hero in a romance novel, and while Byron is actually the baby’s first name, I changed the other two to preserve his privacy. But his middle and last name are actually more interesting than the ones I chose for him.
The reason I want to protect his identity is because I decided to do a web search for him after talking to Mary. (Mary Ambrose—in case you don’t know it—has her private investigator’s license, a feat she accomplished while she was pregnant with her son Hayden).
Now where was I? Oh yes, so I did a search for Byron, and first found his namesake and grandfather who was born in 1835, hated his name Jedediah and changed it to Byron. To make a long story short, through an obituary, I eventually tracked down one of Byron II’s daughters in the U.S. and offered to send her the photo of her dad. She was thrilled to hear that there was a baby picture of him in existence. Between us, we figured out that the photo was probably taken in 1918 and sent to a Canadian relative by Byron’s mother in Maine. Naturally I’d like to know more about Byron (who was an engineer), but I didn’t want to seem pushy.
What was gratifying to me about this experience was not only to find out there was a real person behind one of the images I like to work with, but that I was also to be able to send Byron’s three daughters a precious memento of their dad. So thank you Carmi for this heart-warming experience. I couldn’t alter Byron’s image though. Somehow it didn’t seem right.