John Walden Poulson – The Wastrel; my great grandfather – had so much going for him, but couldn’t seem to avoid turning every advantage into a tale of risk, broken promises, embezzling and very likely drinking and gambling. Some parts of his tale are very public (were covered in local newspapers), but lots of the details I’ll probably never know for sure. Today he might be diagnosed with bipolar disorder, but in the late 1800s even if there had been such a diagnosis, there wasn’t anything to be done other than watch a life unravel. Continue reading The wheels finally fall off for the Wastrel →