To Kill a Mockingbird: The Tale of Mrs. Finch

Her Story

I left home at the ripe age of eighteen, the oldest of four children. It was my dream to become a journalist for a high-end newspaper. At the time, I felt as though there was nothing I could not do, no obstacle I could not overcome. My whole life was planned out in front of me, and nowhere in the plan was a family included. I wanted to be independent! I wanted to be free to roam the country—no, the world!—unhindered. So one day I gathered all of my possessions—one suitcase was all I needed—and kissed my parents goodbye. I gave them no notice or warning but a wave, and then walked to the train station. I boarded the first train I saw.

I soon found myself on the doorstep of a small women's tabloid based out of Atlanta, thoroughly exhausted of options. I had gone to newspaper after newspaper, checked every kind of journalism that existed. This was my last chance. If this tabloid could not find a place for me, I would have to return to my family empty-handed.

The editor, Miss Frost, was a sharp-looking middle-aged woman with a crooked mouth and a ghastly smile. She told me they had no need for a journalist, and I watched my heart sink into the mud. She must have watched it sink as well, because the next thing I knew, she was offering me a job as an advice columnist. It wasn't what I had been looking for, and it didn't pay much, but I was desperate. So I took the job, hoping that something better would come along. 

After two years of working at the same hum-drum place with the same hum-drum job for the same amount of pay as when I had started out, I was informed that the tabloid could no longer afford to keep paying me. Miss Frost apologized sincerely, smiled (which I could have done without) and gave me my last two weeks' pay, telling me that I should use those weeks to find a new job. And try I did, but no one in the surrounding area could or would take me. 

By the end of the month, though I had scrounged and conserved, I had only enough money left for one train ticket. Finally, I decided I had no other choice but to return home. I tracked down the train, bought a ticket, and left the city in defeat.

My family seemed reluctant to take me back—I had had little contact with them while in Atlanta, and to be honest, I think they were still a little mad about my leaving so suddenly. I was surprised to find that my mother had also given birth to twins while I was away. I had not even known when she was expecting! With the addition of these two delightful new burdens, they were having trouble making ends meet. Even when my oldest brother Henry dropped out of school to work, there was barely enough money to support seven people, much less an eighth. So in order to be able to live with my family and help support them, I once again began my fruitless search for a job.

I have always maintained that the job I finally found at the legislative office in Montgomery was a gift from God above. Not only did my post as secretary pay well enough to support all eight family members so that Henry could go back to school, but it also provided me with the best view in all of Alabama. I am, of course, referring to Atticus Finch. 

He had just been elected to the state legislature, and was at the time working in the very same building as me. He said good morning every day when he came in and good evening every night when he went out. We talked pleasantly about anything I could think of. I was completely smitten. Atticus Finch was the most handsome man I had ever seen, and the kindest man I had ever met, so grounded in morals that no bribe or trickery could sway him. I greatly admired him.

At first, I only asked Atticus about general things, like the weather and politics. Then I ventured out and asked him about what he did back home. He told me he practiced law in the small county of Maycomb. He had no family in terms of a wife and children, but the Finches were related by blood or marriage to every other family in the town.

Over time, we grew closer, got to know each other better. Atticus seemed to be taking a liking to me. However, work soon tore us apart.

Atticus's work in the legislative office was over, and soon he would be heading back to Maycomb. I was devastated. Though he was fifteen years older than I, Atticus Finch and I understood each other. He made me laugh. He cheered me up when I was down. He completed me. I could not bear the thought of Atticus leaving.