I've fleshed out a persona, incorporating a few real-life personal and historic details. My real name is Jeffrey Blaisdell, my ancestors came to Maine in 1635. I was born in NY, but Maine has always felt like home. I used my parents' middle names for their first. My mother was of French descent, didn't speak English until she went to school. I've chosen a quirky bit of history for my character, the "Aroostook War." http://www.newenglandhistoricalsociety.com/the-high-comedy-of-the-bloodless-aroostook-war/ ***** Hello. My name is Jefferson Blaisdell. I was born in the year 1787, the very year the Constitution of the United States was ratified. I was named for Thomas Jefferson, the great Statesman who authored our Declaration of Independence. Most folks call me Jeff. My father, Frederick, served in the War for Independance. He was part of Benedict Arnold's expedition to Quebec and attack on Montreal. After the war, he married a French girl he met, Marie LeRoy. LeRoy is French for king, and he often said he married a king and made her his queen. They settled down in the small coastal village of York, where they raised three sons, of which I am the youngest. My oldest brother apprenticed in the carriage trade in New York. There he married a German girl. My other brother set out for a life of adventure, joining the crew of a merchant ship. His fortunes have since brought him to Europe. I have not seen him but once or twice in the last score of years. He does write on occasion, one letter telling a fabulous tale of his encounter with a sea captain obsessed with pursuing a white whale. I wrote back and told him his adventures would make a great novel. I know a publisher who might be interested, Peleg & Bildad House. I told him to write to my old friend, Ishmael, who is in their employ. As for me, I have been here in Maine all my fifty-two years. It has been hard living up here, but I have had a good woman by my side going on 30 of them. I have had to try my hand at a good many things to keep a roof over my head and food on the table, and by our Lord's Grace, we have gotten by. Maine was not admitted into the Union until 1820, and we were at the mercy of the merchants and statesmen down in Massachusetts. The Second War for Independence was particularly hard for us up here. Those pesky Englishmen just would not leave us alone, raiding our merchant ships and impressing our young lads into their navy. Well, Old Thomas Jefferson, who was by then our President, declared war on England. I guess David had beat Goliath before, and he figured we could do it again. They gave us a hard way to go, but the President did not make it easier for us here when he closed our ports to foreign trade. Many folks around here went broke and some turned to bootlegging to get by. The name of Thomas Jefferson was not spoken well of in those days. I learned not to let on who I was named for. We beat them, though, and old Jefferson has since passed on. People are a little more understanding these days. Except for those pesky Englishmen. They have continued to be a thorn in our side. Lumbermen from New Brunswick constantly poach our timber. The Crown has laid claim to much of our forests, despite our Treaty. They have even arrested our citizens! It has reached a critical time where such violations can no longer be tolerated. Maine will not stand for such abuse, and if the Statesmen will not come to our aid, we will resolve this ourselves. This is where you find me today, here in the forests of Maine, in the region the Natives call Madawaska, or Land of the Porcupine. We bloodied the Crown's nose twice already, and we're ready to let 1839 be the year we do it again!