State Fire Marshal John Connolly has been pleading with school boards and legislators for years to address the death traps that are Oklahoma’s schools, to no avail. That changes on Christmas Eve 1924 in a rural one-room schoolhouse in Southwest Oklahoma. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong that night, as societal obstacles, government malaise, and Santa Claus himself kindled the perfect firestorm, leaving 36 dead—including Santa—and a four-year-old girl, Mary Elizabeth Edens, missing. John Connolly had never been so disappointed to be so right.
The tragedy in tiny Babbs Switch, Oklahoma sparked outrage across the country, was reported breathlessly by major newspapers throughout America, was the subject of international relief efforts, and fueled the school fire safety reform adopted by every state in the union.
Over years and decades, the missing girl’s parents hire private investigators to find her, praying she was abducted by a loving, childless couple the night of the fire. Each investigation, however, results in a false alarm or a cruel hoax. Until 32 years later, when a California man reads an anniversary story and connects the dots with his mysterious client, Grace Reynolds, the product of a Dickensian upbringing and a nagging suspicion that she was illegally adopted. Soon, against all odds, the Edenses are reunited with their long-lost daughter on national television, and newspapers nationwide rejoice that the Babbs Switch mystery is finally solved. It was a fairy tale ending almost too good to be true.
Because it wasn’t, according to some.
Over 40 years after the happy reunion, a newspaper alleges the woman was an impostor . . . and Mr. Edens knew it as early as 1957. That is when an enterprising reporter and editor in California joined forces with small-town Oklahoma newspaper editor Ransom Hancock to break the story of the Babbs Switch impostor. What they ended up doing, however, reflects an integrity and compassion rarely seen in modern journalism.
Ransom had known Louis Edens all his life and felt honor-bound to show him the story prior to publication. He was unprepared for Louis's reaction. Louis knew the woman was not his daughter, he confided to Ransom. But Ethel Edens believed the woman was, and Louis could not bear to see his wife lose her daughter twice. Thus, in a modest house on a February evening in 1957, a retired farmer implored a small-town newspaper owner to sit on the biggest story of his career—so long as Mrs. Edens was alive to see it. Ransom gave his word that he would and convinced the California newspaper to do the same. When Ransom's son, Joe, took over the newspaper’s operations, Ransom made him promise as well.
Joe Hancock kept his father’s promise, and the story remained buried until 1999. But mysteries remain. Did Grace Reynolds know she was not the missing girl? Was she a cunning impostor? Or was she—like everyone else in 1956—wanting it to be true so badly that she herself was convinced? Was she blinded by hope that a loving family was searching for her all along? And what happened to four-year-old Mary Elizabeth Edens? Author Justin C. Cliburn explores these questions and more through historical research, community memories, and interviews with descendants on all sides.
What Good Would Come's release is tentatively scheduled to coincide with the tragic fire's 100th anniversary in 2024. Follow for updates, announcements, and excerpts.
The tragedy in tiny Babbs Switch, Oklahoma sparked outrage across the country, was reported breathlessly by major newspapers throughout America, was the subject of international relief efforts, and fueled the school fire safety reform adopted by every state in the union.
Over years and decades, the missing girl’s parents hire private investigators to find her, praying she was abducted by a loving, childless couple the night of the fire. Each investigation, however, results in a false alarm or a cruel hoax. Until 32 years later, when a California man reads an anniversary story and connects the dots with his mysterious client, Grace Reynolds, the product of a Dickensian upbringing and a nagging suspicion that she was illegally adopted. Soon, against all odds, the Edenses are reunited with their long-lost daughter on national television, and newspapers nationwide rejoice that the Babbs Switch mystery is finally solved. It was a fairy tale ending almost too good to be true.
Because it wasn’t, according to some.
Over 40 years after the happy reunion, a newspaper alleges the woman was an impostor . . . and Mr. Edens knew it as early as 1957. That is when an enterprising reporter and editor in California joined forces with small-town Oklahoma newspaper editor Ransom Hancock to break the story of the Babbs Switch impostor. What they ended up doing, however, reflects an integrity and compassion rarely seen in modern journalism.
Ransom had known Louis Edens all his life and felt honor-bound to show him the story prior to publication. He was unprepared for Louis's reaction. Louis knew the woman was not his daughter, he confided to Ransom. But Ethel Edens believed the woman was, and Louis could not bear to see his wife lose her daughter twice. Thus, in a modest house on a February evening in 1957, a retired farmer implored a small-town newspaper owner to sit on the biggest story of his career—so long as Mrs. Edens was alive to see it. Ransom gave his word that he would and convinced the California newspaper to do the same. When Ransom's son, Joe, took over the newspaper’s operations, Ransom made him promise as well.
Joe Hancock kept his father’s promise, and the story remained buried until 1999. But mysteries remain. Did Grace Reynolds know she was not the missing girl? Was she a cunning impostor? Or was she—like everyone else in 1956—wanting it to be true so badly that she herself was convinced? Was she blinded by hope that a loving family was searching for her all along? And what happened to four-year-old Mary Elizabeth Edens? Author Justin C. Cliburn explores these questions and more through historical research, community memories, and interviews with descendants on all sides.
What Good Would Come's release is tentatively scheduled to coincide with the tragic fire's 100th anniversary in 2024. Follow for updates, announcements, and excerpts.
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