"Somebody ought to tell the world what happened at Sweetwater Plantation." There was no mistaking Grandpa's handwriting. In life or in death, Grandpa was going to get me to read some of this material. Cold chills flooded me as I read the opening lines. it was as though fate had preserved this document long enough for me to read it--and to share it with the world. I read silently for the first few lines, then, inexplicably, I began to read aloud, as though I was the author. Looking over the pages gave me a strange sense that John Hauser was right there beside me, nodding in approval, prodding me along, elated that someone would finally tell his story to the world. From the grave, location unknown to me, he could finally speak. I read through the night, finishing the last page as the sun's rays began to break the darkness of night. Silently, I made a promise to John Hauser and Grandpa that I would be the voice of the past. I vowed not to rest until this promise was kept. As a journalist, I try to stay focused on facts and not be swayed by what-ifs or maybe. Was this document fact or fiction? Many of the vents, people, and periods have been investigated thoroughly. They all seem to confirm that this document was indeed true. After weeks of travel, investigation, and interviews with dozens of people, I have decided to lay all the evidence of my investigation aside. I will simply leave you with the words and descriptions given by MR. John Hauser. This is his story. Welcome to Sweetwater Plantation.
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