I refer to my book as a memoir, somewhat autobiographical but also a journal, recounting my quest to discover more about those who came before me in my father's family. Things grew complicated, and I had no intention of writing about any of this until a colleague spoke the fateful words to me: "You need to write this down." If I had not begun writing when I did, much of this story would be lost to time and other life factors. On the surface, this is a mystery story about a cigar box of memorabilia I took possession of in 1977 after my dad died. The cigar box was no more than a curiosity, so I would look at the contents and put it away. Then came personal computers so I could search from the comfort of my home. Like so many mysteries, I thought the answers were rather straightforward. The deeper I searched, the more I was frustrated, humbled, and compelled to keep searching and writing for ten-plus years. As a Roman Catholic, I soon saw this search had a deeper theological meaning for me as I pondered the relationship this journey had to the (a) communion of saints, the (b) corporal works of mercy, and, ultimately, (c) forgiveness of self and others. I wrote this as a conversation with the reader asking them to ponder these same issues with me. I also adopted the Catholic practice of picking a patron saint for this memoire, and who is better than Saint Jerome? I needed both a muse and a taskmaster, and he fills both roles quite ably. He is also the patron saint of archivers, and that would certainly be me. The music theme is a significant backdrop to my story. Just like the movie background music or score kept subtle to set the tone and elicit emotion, my lyrics and melody selections are used to express and convey the same. As you will learn, Emma herself was an accomplished musician. In addition, science suggests that this universe itself is believed to be finely tuned harmonic from galaxies to DNA. As I write about implied realms beyond this one, a music soundtrack seems appropriate.