Burrell Hecock was my husband’s second cousin. He was one month shy of turning 18 back in February, 1912. The Hecock’s were your typical middle class Ohioans residing in the suburbs of Cleveland; Burrell was an only child, his father was a lawyer who fancied himself an amateur inventor, and his mother adored him. On February 4th Burrell and a friend ventured to Niagara to see the magnificent ice bridge. The bridge formed from the ice chunks that tumbled over the falls and eventually froze into a solid mass across the river. Those crazy turn-of-the-century people used to walk across it and vendors even sold roasted chestnuts and hot cocoa in their make-shift shacks out on the ice. People had snowball battles and frolicked in the snow. Some made it an annual event to walk across it from Canada to the US. It was the bees knees, boy.
But this was the last year that anyone was allowed onto the bridge.
This graphic novel is based on a real person, a real incident, and as many accurate historical facts as I could dig up. But it IS fiction because I took some artistic license in the telling. In fact, quite a bit of artistic license. I can’t give you anymore than that on the story… you want to be surprised, don’t you?