I decided, for example, that my protagonist, Alice, should become interested in researching the history of her house. Since I had in fact done that myself, I thought I'd retrace my steps, this time taking photographs and notes. I started yesterday at the genealogy room in the Connecticut Valley Historical Museum.
Here's the Springfield, Massachusetts city directory for 1871, the year the Emory House was built. Entries are in alphabetical order. P. P. Emory is listed as a coppersmith and brass founder, with a business on Hampden Street and a house on Spring Street. (The house was moved to its present location on Salem Street in the 1970s.)
My original intention was to make note of what steps I'd taken and in what order, so that I could create a similar scene with accuracy. That should have taken about ten minutes. So why did I end up spending the entire afternoon in the museum?
In fact, I got caught up in the actual history of the Emorys. I pored over every city directory until 1942, when the last Emory died. I learned that Paschal Emory had died in 1906, his wife Merilla in 1909, whereupon daughter Carrie became head of household. In 1929, the house was vacant. Result of stock market crash? A year later, Carrie turns up in a smaller house three blocks away, and the Emory House becomes a boarding house, changing hands a couple of times. Carrie remains on School Street, unmarried, until her death in 1942.
With the help of John O'Connor, the genealogist, I located Carrie's obituary. She was a member of the Smith College Club--a fellow alum!--the Springfield Women's Club, and South Congregational Church. She was buried in Springfield Cemetery.
Next stop...Springfield Cemetery. I have a feeling Alice is going to go there, too.