Persistence Pays off

In the 1960s, a scrapbook capturing the story of one Altie Reed Walker’s adventures across Europe and her work in prohibition at the turn of the 20th century appeared in the hands of a high school teacher rummaging through a school closet. Sixty years later, this book, having spent decades shuffled from closet to closet, arrived at our home.

The scrapbook possessed a unique magnetic quality. It was filled with records of Altie’s travels aboard a steamer ship across the ocean, as well as fabric samples, dining menus, pressed flowers, and more. Despite having no personal connection to Altie Reed Walker, everyone who encountered the scrapbook felt compelled to preserve it. Its magnetic pull was undeniable—each person who touched it knew that it needed to find a proper home.

Our family’s connection to the scrapbook began in the mid-1960s, when my father-in-law was teaching at Marshall Junior High. Though none of us know the full story, we understand that he discovered the scrapbook in a school closet. It was a mystery how it came to be there, and despite having no direct ties to him, the uniqueness of the book made it impossible for him to discard. He kept it safe until his retirement in the mid-1980s. Not knowing what else to do, he brought it home to his wife, telling her it “needed a home.” For the next 30 years, it sat in the back of a closet in their home, then later in their townhome.

After my father-in-law passed away in 2018, and my mother-in-law moved into an independent living community, the scrapbook, now packed in a plastic bag, came into our care. We began some preliminary genealogy research and discovered that Altie Reed Walker had connections to Madison and Prescott, Wisconsin—both of which were confirmed through newspaper clippings and photographs in her scrapbook. However, we were unable to trace any living relatives. We found a family tree that included Altie’s name and reached out to its creator, but since the software used was a closed system, we had no way to contact him directly unless he logged in to check his messages. The scrapbook sat, unresolved, for a few more years.

Then, in the fall of 2023, I asked one of our children to help me find a proper home for Altie’s scrapbook. They agreed, and we set aside a week in March 2024 to focus on the task. Leading up to that time, we contacted both the Wisconsin State Archives and a local historical society, but neither organization seemed eager to accept the scrapbook, despite the clear connection to the state.

One final attempt was made to track down a family member. We found Altie’s tombstone on Find A Grave and saw that someone had left flowers on her grave in May 2023. The person who had posted the photo was the same person I had messaged years earlier—the creator of the family tree. I logged into our Find A Grave account, and within 30 minutes, the person responded! Less than one hour later, we were on the phone, sharing pictures of the scrapbook and making plans to send it to them.

Though we still kept our plans to visit Wisconsin that week, we ultimately felt that Altie’s scrapbook had found its rightful place. We visited Altie’s grave in Prescott and even located a house she had once lived in. Upon returning home, we packaged up the scrapbook and sent it to Paris, France, where it would now be cared for by Altie’s great-great-nephew. Altie’s scrapbook had finally found its home.

This journey was a reminder that even when strategies fail or lead to negative results, they can still offer valuable lessons or leave breadcrumbs for future discoveries. Don’t underestimate the power of leaving messages, visiting cemeteries—whether in person or virtually—creating free online accounts, or simply being persistent. In the end, it is often this persistence that helps you achieve your research goals.