A break, coming out of nowhere

In every family, there's always some guy who comes out of nowhere, who doesn't seem to have any connection to anybody other than blood.

It's the guy who lives a mysterious life that sparks curiosity, but he disappears before he yields any clues.

Researching for my book, "Generations: My Family's Struggle with Mental Illness," I came across a great uncle by the name of Frederick Winans who apparently gassed himself on Oct. 4, 1928.

I never even heard of him until I saw his gravesite last November, and I discovered that his tombstone had been pulled off his gravesite and turned upside-down.

He, his mother and his dog died all at the same time, making front-page news in the Elizabeth Daily Journal the following day.

Later I learned that he was a "wall-paper hanger" who was married to a woman named "Matilda." She left him for California, it appeared, with their three children.

He just seemed to represent another layer of misfortune in a family with several generations of mental illness and alcoholism. But even that wasn't a guarantee since his death wasn't officially labeled a suicide.

Frederick is the one guy who could make or break a book. He's like a big hole in a story that can't be ignored.

He's not absolutely central to the plot of the story. But knowing a little more about him could provide some inspiration.

And his story, however benign or bizarre, could make the entire book that much more attractive to picky publishers.

Last week came a break. A death certificate for his son, Clarence, arrived in the mail, two months after I requested it from the state of California.

I discovered family names I never heard of. I called Frederick's grandson, Don, and we talked for an hour. He confirmed everything: Frederick went into the Navy, and then disappeared after he split up with his wife. Matilda went to California to start anew.

Guess what? Mental illness and alcoholism runs in Don's family, too. So does intelligence - Don helped design the Hubble telescope. His uncle was a landscape architect.

Hopefully, that's just the start of a new chapter.