May 31, 1917
This is a rare occasion that I reach across time and space from writing in this journal to communicate directly to you. The months of my last spring are now down to the last few weeks and soon down to the last days. I am last seen on July 8, 1917.
How I met my fate has never been conclusively resolved. Nor is it settled on where my body finally rests at Canoe Lake or Leith Cemetery. This story never ends and that is why I am writing to you today. For my each of fates, I have created hashtags for the eight possibilities. If you want to learn more about each fate, or add to the story, use the hashtags below:
Fate 1: Accidental Death
I fell out of my canoe, drunk, or during the act of urinating. Either way, or both, I hit my head and fell overboard. It was an accident. Follow this fate at: #ttfate1
Fate 2: Suicide
With an inevitable fate closing in on me, I had no choice but to end my life. Follow this fate at: #ttfate2
Fate 3: Death at the hands of Martin Blecher
Martin Blecher and I got into a fight the night before I was last seen. He decided to settle the score the next day. Follow this fate at: #ttfate3
Fate 4: Death at the hands of Hugh Trainor
Hugh Trainor, Winnie’s father becomes mighty upset at me. Enough to get into fisticuffs and striking me down. Follow this fate at: #ttfate4
Fate 5: Death at the hands of Shannon Fraser
Shannon owed me money, or if you believed his version of the story, I owed him money. The ensuing argument caused me to trip and dash my head on a fire grate. Follow this fate at: #ttfate5
Fate 6: Death at the hands of a Poacher
Poachers were a ruthless bunch. They didn’t like being challenged, especially in a canoe with load of pelts. My duty as a guide, to apprehend poachers goes horribly awry. Follow this fate at: #ttfate6
Fate 7: Disappearance
Poachers dress the same as guides. In this fate, it’s the poacher that gets the short end of the bargain. I realize that this is an opportunity to escape, wrapping up the loose ends of my life here, and starting with a new identity elsewhere. Follow this fate at: #ttfate7
Fate 8: Death of Natural Causes
My recovery from a childhood sickness leaves behind a unknown but deadly health condition. As the tension grows, and my stress rises, this deadly condition suddenly rears itself and I have no chance but to succumb. Follow this fate at: #ttfate8
Some may believe in one fate over the other and that is the end of the story. But they are all possible, no matter how remote the likelihood, and that’s why this story never ends.
I’ll get back to my journal writing now. The bugs are biting bad and I plan to turn in soon. I may have some guide work in the next few days. But I promise you June 1917 will turn out to be an eventful and dramatic last month of my life. And July 1917 will be fateful, not only for me, but for all of Canada, as I understand.
Please follow me and keep the story going.