One of the first things I realized when I started working on my capstone project in early 2017 is advances in technology weren’t always going to make the project easier. That became abundantly clear when I tried to track down Bob and Tracy Keller’s phone number.
Ironically, that would have been much easier 20 years earlier, when people were starting to use cell phones but typically keeping their land lines. Years of working at newspapers and three years of graduate school sharpened my investigation skills, so I didn’t have a problem finding their home numbers. It didn’t work, of course. Like most folks, the Kellers had dropped their land lines by that point.
Finding mobile numbers wasn’t nearly as easy. Hours of scouring the Internet resulted in zero leads. Eventually, I found the Dover Federated Church’s website and number and left a message, knowing Bob was still the pastor. I was nervous, of course, and hurriedly mumbled through several poorly constructed sentences.
After not hearing back for a few days, another search of the web resulted in a random pdf of a dated church newsletter that listed Bob’s cell phone. I called Bob during a lunch break at work, first saying that I left a message on the church phone.
“I got something, but I couldn’t understand what you were saying,” he said kindly.
I don’t remember my words that afternoon. I do remember finally getting to my point: “I need to finish a capstone project to get my master’s degree. I’m from Burlingame, and I know your daughter’s story because I went to high school with two of her friends. I want to write about Brenda.”
A long, uncomfortable pause followed. It was a pause I’d hear dozens of times during the next three years when I called Brenda’s family, friends and teachers. During that conversation with Bob, it was clear I was going to have to find another topic.
“I just don’t think we’re ready to talk about it,” Bob said politely.
I thanked Bob, thinking at the time that Brenda’s story would never be told if the Kellers weren’t ready 25 years after her death. I also realized that I was so nervous during the call that I did not explain myself well.
Moments after our phone conversation, I emailed Bob, explaining in detail why I wanted to write about his daughter. I told him that it felt like a higher power was imploring me to tell her story. Within a few minutes of getting home that night, Bob called.
“I spoke with my mom today, and she told me that I needed to work with you on this,” he said. “She doesn’t think it’s an accident that you’re working on this.”
We talked a little more, and I explained that I really had no idea where the story was going to go and that there’s very little about Brenda on the Internet (which I’ve always found bothersome).
“When you said you weren’t ready, I honestly thought I’d never hear from you again,” I said.
“Well, it’s really that I wasn’t ready,” he said. “Tracy is ready.”
I didn’t speak to Jean Keller, Bob’s mom, for nearly two years after she told her son he needed to work on the capstone project. I met her and Bob’s father, also Robert, in August 2017. Even in their late eighties, they were sharp as tacks.
“I told Robert I thought it would be good for him, all of us, to learn more about what happened,” Jean said. “Brenda was special to all of us. We want her to be remembered.”
Hopefully, it’ll be much easier to research Brenda’s story when “Goodbye, Butterfly” is published this fall.
The paragraph that starts, “I thanked Bob, thinking at the time that Brenda’s story would never be told if the Keller’s ….not they Keller’s….
Since I used to proof text when I worked, I tend to notice little things and thought I’d let you know of the above correction. If you don’t want me to let you know of things I notice, just let me know. I’m only wanting to be helpful.
Nancy Ferrell (the Dover Church pianist)