This is the story of my quest for the truth about my girls, if you have not ready my story Lorpat I suggest you read it first. It will give you some background on me and my girls.
In the late 80s about 12 or 13 years after the death of my girls. My life started to settle down. It was one of the few times in my life I was making a decent wage. I had just purchased a new car. I decide to find out what I could about the twins.
So on July 4th I set out for Westwood Cal. Why Westwood? Because Westwood was the postmark on the last letter I got from my x. For those who don't know where Westwood is don't feel bad, I didn't know either until I looked it up on the map. It is located in the Sierra Nevada mountains in Northern Cal. It is about 100 miles north of lake Tahoe at the top of Feather River.
I went to Lake Tahoe first, got there just before dark. Got a room, played a little bit in the casino but mostly just rested. I am not big on fireworks or crowds so I just stayed in my room most of the evening. The next morning I drove around Lake Tahoe. It was a beautiful drive. This was only my second trip to Lake Tahoe. First trip was a bus trip and I only had a few hours that time. I stopped at the ranch house where they filmed Bonanza and took a tour of the house (I have been told it is closed down now).
Then I went to Virginia City. It is built on the side of a hill. It was neat. I even took a tour of one of the mines. I was told there is still a lot of silver in those mines but because of flooding and EPA concerns they may never get anymore silver out. The next morning I left Lake Tahoe early and drove to Westwood. I had planned to look at old newspapers to see if I could find the story.
Westwood is a beautiful little city. The Library did not open until noon. I just drove around and talked to a few people no one remember a fire like I had been led to believe. I even went to the fire station, no luck. They could not remember any fires around that time either.
Finally the library opened and I got to talk to the Librarian. She said they don't keep old newspapers. Everything is on Micro-film and it is all in the library at Susanville about 40 miles away.
When I got to Susanville the Librarian set me up with the right micro-film and I started reading old newspapers. There was nothing in any of them around the times my girls died. I left the library sat in my car and though awhile.
I remembered the girls were buried in Marysville so I decide to drive down there and check their library on the way home. So I headed down the Feather river which by the way is a beautiful drive. I got to Marysville about 3 hours later. I found a room and spent the night.
The next morning I was at the library as soon as it opened. The librarian set me up with the right micro-film and I started reading newspapers again. It wasn't more the 15 or 20 minutes later I found it. It was not a fire that took the lives of my girls, but they were left alone by a pool and they both drowned.
I was so happy to find the article I was jumping up and down I called the librarian over and she helped me make a copy of the article. Their copier was not working right so the copy was not very good. She took my name and address and promised to send me a good copy when it was fixed.
About 2 weeks later I got a good copy in the mail. Before I left Marysville I decided to stop at the cemetery and see where my girls were buried. It was only a few miles from the library. When I got there I started walking around looking at tombstones trying to find them.
After about 1/2 hour I decide this is stupid I need to ask somebody. So I went to the mortuary and asked where the girls were buried. They said they had a special section for children and pulled out a big book. They turned a few pages and wrote down the info. Then they also gave me directions. They was only about a hundred yards from the mortuary.
After they gave me the info they asked me why I was interested in these girls. I said they were my daughters and I never got to see where they were buried. I walked around the back of the mortuary to the children's area and found the graves. There was no grave stones, I didn't expect any. From what the mortuary told me it had to be the right place.
I just sat down there on the grass under a nearby tree. I sat there for about 30 minutes. I was thinking what might have been and thinking what will be when I get to heaven and for the first time in years I was really at peace. Then I got up and drove home. I thought a lot through the years about how the story got so messed up. This is the conclusion I came up with. When the Marysville police called my Mom and told her what happened my Mom was hard of hearing and probably didn't hear it right, or else she just didn't understand what the police said. I know police sometimes use big words and don't like to explain things.