Up to this point, most of my “research” had been handed to me: the diary, the “Dear Isabel” letter, even the guest book. It wasn’t until I resolved to find the living Asa Denson that my research truly began. I visited Boston later that same year and was able to find a phone listing for an “A. Denson” on Brimmer Street. The house was a brownstone townhouse in an affluent neighborhood. The residents however had never met Mr. Denson, having bought the bank-owned house from a real estate agent two years before. Apparently, the lawyer that helped them close on the house explained that the previous owner had died intestate, and after some searching, his belongings were sold at auction. I thanked the nice couple for their help and returned to my hotel. After walking the earth for over 150 years, Asa Denson was dead.
It didn’t take long to find an obituary in the Boston Globe. It was short and cryptic.
“DENSON, Asa of Boston, May 3, a hero and a friend to many. Though his family passed long ago, he will be missed like a brother and a father to all those who served beside him. “In him was life; and the life was the light of men.” Friends are cordially invited to attend the graveside service on Saturday from 10:00 to 11:00 AM at Oak Hill Cemetery in Bellingham.”
I called the newspaper, but they had no record of who placed or paid for the notice. The next day I took the rental car to Bellingham. There I found the gravestones of Asa and Isabel Denson, her stone was old and worn, his was new and finely chiseled. There were no dates on the stones but someone had laid a bouquet of flowers and a note tied with a blue ribbon. The note read:
“The greatest injustice is that the world does not know your name. You will always be our hero, Galaxor be damned. I hope you’ve found your God and he is worthy.”
