The Mystery Diary

The Mystery Diary


The mystery started on February 13, 1985. I was doing an extensive cleaning, as I was planning to move to an apartment next Saturday to Sussex, New England. The apartment was only one bedroom, compared to the five bedroom house. It was a gut-wrenching process of cleaning. Many of the items had sentimental value; things my husband and I shared from 40 years of marriage. We loved each other dearly those 40 years; we never had one single fight. He passed away from pancreatic cancer only 5 months ago and I had to down-size. (All three of my children moved out years ago.) I finished organizing the things in the living room and was about to start my bedroom. I organized things into two piles: keep and throw away. I went through my entire bookcase and moved it.

“Just in case something’s dropped behind it,” I thought. As I moved it, I saw a small book hiding among all the cobwebs. I pulled it out and blew the dirt off the cover and read “Personal Diary”.

“I wonder what could be in here,” I thought as I carried it into the kitchen.



I turned on the light and sat down. When I opened it, I coughed from the old musty smell.

“Must have been hidden behind the bookcase for a long time,” I thought. I started reading from page 1. I gasped when I read the year inscribed in the right hand side.

“Feb 12, 1800. Want to walk away from husband. He accused me of being a witch! I use plants and herbs to help myself and others. Does that make me a witch? No; I do not communicate with the devil. I pray to God and help people, which means I’m a Christian. In my silent time, God told me to heal people naturally with plants and herbs. Will I go against what God told me to do? No way! I am writing this in the woods. The owls will be my company tonight. I had to get away from my husband. I was afraid he might go to the mayor to tell him I’m a witch. They kill us women, when our husbands say we are. Sometimes the husbands just want to get rid of us, so they accuse us, women, of being witches. We have no rights; we are the property of our husbands. Suzie Smidt”. I turned the page to the next entry.

“Feb 13, 1800. Dear diary, I going to permanently leave my husband tomorrow. I know I will not keep my children, but that’s the price for my happiness. I need to live a blissful life, and that means without my husband. I have hidden several of my husband’s bonds under my bed, in hopes that they will be worth something someday,” the diary read. I frantically turned to the next page but it was blank. I flipped through the entire diary but that was the last entry.

“Wonder what happened on Feb 14. I hope the bonds are still under the bed,” I thought and ran back to my bedroom. In my hurry, I bumped my baby toe on my table.

“Damn,” I cursed and kneeled to look under my bed.



I bent down and looked under my bed. A ray of sunlight shone on a square object; it looked like a gray box. I stretched my left arm and dragged out a gray metal box. I carried it into the kitchen and there was some dust on the top. I dragged the garbage can over to the table and blew the dust into the garbage bag. I set the box back on the table and opened it. A black and white photo was on the top. It was a picture of a girl, about 12 years old, smiling at the camera. I turned it over and read “Susan Smidt, 1850”. Under that was another black and white photo; it was Susan’s wedding photo. She wore a lacy white wedding gown but thing that jumped out was the contrast of the couple. Her husband smiled but Susan frowned.

“Maybe she was just nervous,” I thought. I turned the photo over and it read “Mr. & Mrs. Johannes, 1860”. I looked for more pictures, but there were no more. Under the wedding picture, an envelope read “personal: keep out”. I opened the envelope carefully and pulled out a piece of paper. I frowned in confusion and then smiled when I read it. The paper read: “official Dell Company bond. Worth: $100 signed December 15, 1803.”

“Oh my God! Dell is only 1 year old and is doing very well. I wonder how much this is worth. This is a good mystery at my ripe age of 72!” I thought. I glanced at the clock and it read was 5 p.m.

“Wow, time goes fast when you’re cleaning! It’s too late to go to the library or bank now. I’ll go to the library tomorrow for more information on Suzie. Then to the bank,” I said aloud. I walked back to my room and put the journal on top of my desk.



I woke up at nine and took a shower. I quick breakfast and headed out the door, to the library. When I walked up to the door, I jiggled the handle and it was locked. I waited a minute when I saw a car pull up. The librarian grabbed a thermos and slammed her car door. She ran up to the door and put the key into the lock.
“Sorry I’m late. It took awhile for my child to get ready for school, teenagers.” She rolled her eyes and we walked in together.

“Is there something I can help you find?” she asked as she took a sip from her thermos.

“Yes. I’m looking for the city records to find a certain resident.”

“Do you have the person’s name and the year they were a resident?”

“Yes. It’s around the 1800s.”

“Unfortunately book records don’t go back that far. Those records are on microfiche. Let me go get them for you,” she said and left. I walked over to the new fiction section while she was gone. I was about to leave, thinking she forgot about my request, when she came back carrying some things.

“There’s one newspaper from 1800, another newspaper from 1802, and another with a list of residents from 1800-1900. I hope you find what you’re looking for,” she said and walked back to her desk. I walked over to the microfiche machine and sat down. It made a high screeching mechanical sound as I turned it on and turned to see if the librarian would complain, but she didn’t. I grabbed a pen and piece of paper sitting next to the machine and started reading. I first started with the list of residents. I put it on the machine and noticed it was arranged in alphabetical order. I searched for the names that started with “S”.



Right under Julie Schmidt was “Susan Schmidt”. It read: “Born 1780 in North fork, Virginia to Robert and Elizabeth Jones. See page 12 for more information”. I was excited and pressed forward to page 12. I had to rub my fingers because they weren’t used to using the microfiche machine.

“I can’t remember the last time I used this machine,” I thought and smiled.
Page 12 appeared and I held my breath. I read the entire entry quickly and released my breath. I went back and re-read the entry, slowly this time.

“Susan Schmidt was very interested in natural healing. When she was 12 years old, her mother taught her the names of plants. When she was 16, that love for plants grew. She started voraciously reading about how plants work, especially for medicinal purposes. She moved out of her parent's home when she was 17 but that did not stop her love of plants. At 18, she invited sick people to her modest little cottage and tried healing them with the plants she grew in her garden. Her first patient was an elderly man named Jonathan who had consumption. It was one disease that was incurable at the time. She used the juices of the aloe plant and applied the juices to the man's leg. She then ground up a concoction of various flowers into a tea and he drank it. One week passed and the man came back for a follow-up. Susan checked his temperature and studied the spot where she applied the aloe. She was amazed to discover that his consumption was completely gone. The man praised her and paid her $50, which was alot in the 1800s. Susan continued her natural healing when she married. She even healed her husband when he had a severe illness. Unfortunately, Susan did not have many patients. Many of the residents were skeptical that a woman, with no medical background, could do such amazing things. Some even accused her of being a witch, including her own husband. It’s recorded that on Valentines’ Day, 1800, Susan Schmidt was taken to the town mayor. Her husband told the mayor she was a witch and they hung her on a tree, with the entire town present. Susan Schmidt will forever be known for her courage and was the first recorded natural healer in the United States.”

“What an amazing woman! I haven’t done anything that’s made a difference in anyone’s life. This gives me motivation to do something. I may be old, 72, but I’m not dead,” I thought.