His diligence paid off. Mike called me one day to say he actually found it. Without the house physically moving, the address number had changed at least once. We shared as much excitement as two researchers can do over the phone.
If this is the story of a detective, there must be a mystery. And indeed, there is. We have no idea who lived there when Frank was born, or why his mother would choose this spot. Frank's grandparents on his mother's side lived on South River Street, in another house, no longer existing, whose address changed several times. Did the house on South Lake belong to a doctor who delivered the baby? Was Frank's mother Charlotte visiting a friend when he came into the world, without time for Charlotte to go anywhere else for the birth?
We have no answer, at least not yet. Perhaps one of our readers will be able to solve this small mystery and help Find Frank at his birth on South Lake.
Who lives there today? Another mystery. The building seems to be divided into two units, with an outside staircase on the back side climbing up to an entrance on the second floor. Yes, I could have knocked on one or both doors, and I may not be the best reporter because of this, but it doesn't seem right to me to bother people in their own homes.
No one would particularly notice this house on a drive down the street. It is not in a bad part of town, but not in a particularly fancy one either. It looks rather forlorn in the 2012 Google Earth photos, in the middle of being refurbished. To Charlotte Vanderlip, who was living in 1864 on a small farm, it may have seemed like a finer place to deliver her first child. However, it is a far cry from the fine homes that we will see Frank enjoying most of his adult life. The entire structure wold have not even filled one wing of Beechwood.
So, after photographing as much as possible from the public streets, I silently thanked the owners for preserving this small piece of history.
