Mystery of Misplaced Memoir: Who Is Frank Atkinson?

About six months ago, Art Rorden says, he picked up the book at a garage sale in Orange. Because he and his two daughters probably hit 20 of them that Saturday, nothing stuck in his mind later about where he got it. Not until the end of the day had he even bothered looking inside the oversized book titled, “Grandfather Remembers,” with the subtitle, “Memories for My Grandchild.” With eight grandchildren of his own, Rorden, now 80, had thought the book might make fun reading. He paid a quarter for it.

The book now haunts him. It sits on his desk at home in Huntington Beach--of little value to him. He’s certain, however, that it’s of great value to someone else. Or, at least, it should be.

The book is 64 pages of words--handwritten in ink--and photos. The book is arranged under headings such as “My Parents,” “As a Boy,” “My First Year of Marriage,” “My Child’s Teenage Years,” “How the World Has Changed Since I Was a Boy” and “The Future.”

The introductory page indicates the book was given “With Love for Dad” by “Linda and Frank,” who obviously wanted the older man to flesh out the book for a child--his grandchild. The book was dedicated Jan. 29, 1994, with the addendum: “Happy 85th Birthday.”

And then you begin leafing through the book, and the life story of a man named Frank Atkinson, address and hometown unknown, unfolds.

As Frank Atkinson begins detailing his life for his grandchild, American life in the 20th century spills onto the page. His story doesn’t appear remarkable, except that it spans the generations and is the story of millions of other Americans.

“My [maternal] grandfather earned his living by being a mail carrier, delivered by horse and buggy,” Mr. Atkinson writes on Page 13. “My mother was born Nov. 4, 1885. . . . My [paternal] grandfather earned his living raising mules (big ones) for working farms. . . . My father was born Jan. 22, 1880.”

The next page is a family photo taken in 1942. On this page, Mr. Atkinson identifies the 10 people assembled and tells his grandchild, “I thought a picture of my whole family would be good for you to have. These folks are your great-grandparents and great-uncles and great-aunts.”

He tells how his parents, Charles Atkinson and Grace Dean, met in White Plains, Ky., when his mother “lived with neighbors of my father--the start of a romance.” They married in 1907, he writes.

“My mother took me to school with her every day. On rainy days we rode the mule. She held me in her arms. It was two miles to school and two miles back home.”

He writes that he was always fascinated by machinery, that he only completed the eighth grade and that “I never ever had a room of my own. We slept three in a bed.” He got his first gun, a .22 rifle, when he was 9.

On Page 20, he writes, “I was taught to drive by Charlie Ashlock. The first car I drove was a Model T Ford 1918. The first car I owned was a 1926 Model T Touring.”

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Mr. Atkinson’s grandchild learned that, as a boy, grandpa liked the Yankees, Kate Smith, “The Call of the Wild” and the hymn “In the Garden.” Under the heading, “As a Boy, My Favorite Movie Was--” Mr. Atkinson writes: “Never saw one.”

“I met your grandmother at Bethel Temple Church,” he writes. “Her full name was Dorothy Lois Bibler. Her heritage: German, Scotch, Irish and Dutch.” They dated by going to church and long rides in the country and mountains.

They married in 1934, with both families worried about their age difference--Mr. Atkinson was six years older than his bride. “I said I think we should get married,” he writes. “I was so scared. And she said don’t be afraid. We can make it even in this bad Depression.”

And on the book goes, each page revealing an insight into living life, growing old, watching families and career evolve. “The most important promotion I ever had,” he writes, “was while working for Fresno Unified School District--machinist to electrician.”

He tells his grandchild about his daughter--the grandchild’s mother--and includes her baby picture and prom photo.

Near the end of the book is the heading: “If you tell your grandchildren one thing about me, I’d like it to be--” and Mr. Atkinson fills in the blank: “He was the best grandfather I ever had. He always found time to listen whenever he could and managed to give us a little of his time to listen to one of his favorite stories. I never grew tired of hearing about them.”

I can see why Art Rorden has held onto the book. It would be a tragedy if someone lost the book, an even greater tragedy if someone willingly gave it up.

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Rorden hopes that with a little publicity, the book’s owner will reclaim it. He did some minor detective work to try and find the owner but failed. He thinks the book was thrown out by mistake in a pile of other books. He refuses to believe the grandchild being written to would have willingly surrendered the book.

If no one comes forward, Rorden will keep the book.

“What am I going to do?” he asks. “The guy is pouring his heart out in this book. He did it in such a nice way, it’s heartbreaking to read it. I wouldn’t throw it away. It’s just too personal.”

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Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by calling (714) 966-7821 or by writing to him at The Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or by e-mail to dana.parsons@latimes.com