The Sordid Story of Andrew Reginald Thorton

Just when all hope seemed lost in our scavenging of the Historical Society Archives (read: basement) there was a light at the end of the tunnel (literally, Bob found the light switch.)  And also, Mabel Mabel finally returned one of our many phone calls to point us in the right direction.   But seriously Mabel, it's 2020, you know how to operate a scanner and digital photo-editing software, yet you're still using a land line with the answering machine your niece gave you in 1993?  Invest in a smart phone, woman!

Seems Mabel was well aware of the mouse problem in the basement and had the foresight to bundle up a wealth of materials into some 55 gallon Hefty bags.   We though they were trash, and upon seeing all the things in that basement that were NOT in trash bags, neither of us felt comfortable approaching those things.

The very first trash bag featured a welcome discovery, a biographical text of another of the park's founders, Mr. Andrew Reginald Thorton.  Materials pertaining to Mr. Thorton have been scant since the beginning of this project, and every time we asked anyone about him they suggested we try the zoo.  I don't know what that means.

This one is a little dark, we suggest reading ahead on an empty stomach.  Bob and I certainly wished we had done the same.

At this point the faint scent of animal urine on the pages overwhelmed us and we had to take a break from Mr. Thorton's story.   (It's mice, right?  I really hope it's just mice...  God forbid there be anything else alive down here in this darkened sesspool of a cellar.)

I'm sure we'll be revisiting this most interesting character at a later day, preferably one with seasonable temperatures that allows us to open a few more windows.