John Williamson wasn't the type to wait around and hope. On a cold winter night in 1870, he took action and helped, and he paid with his life. And had it not been for a single spelling alteration, I might never have found him at all.

J.C., Daisy, and Plot 88

They didn't have much in common with my ancestors, but the Wardners knew how it felt to be alone during life's darkest hours. And on a bleak winter day in 1885, the wealthy man helped the poor man. Both were richer for it.

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