I received an email from one of the genealogy sites to which I subscribe, and the subject of the email was a mysterious, reclusive man who lived in Weakley County, Tennessee, USA, for many years. I am posting the content of the email in case someone can help me unravel the past of this man - Enrico Montague.

Some called him the Umbrella Man. His name was Enrico Montague, and from the mid 1930s until his death in the late 1940s, he and his three legged dog were a familiar sight on the streets of Union City. The kids all called him Hobo Pete.

Mr. Montague (who pronounced his name "Mon-tag") was a man of mystery. He was slight of build, heavily bearded and unkempt. His only friend seemed to have
been his faithful three legged dog. He talked to few people and tended to ignore children, possibly because some of them taunted him. One person he did talk with was Robert Bell, father of John Bell. He revealed to him that he was a native of the Isle of Man, an island
located in the Irish Sea about halfway between England and Ireland. The Isle is the home of the Manx cat, (the cat without a tail) and the inhabitants are of Celtic origin.

Mr. Montague lived in a cave in the railroad bank north of Union City near what is now the industrial park, later moving farther out to another dugout and shack and still in the railroad bank. He and his three legged companion (who was later replaced by a shepherd dog) could frequently be found at the shack of the railroad crossing guard on East Main Street, just west of the Burdick building. Here he would find some refuge
from the weather. When it was very cold, Paul Wiley allowed him to sleep in the boiler room of the Blue Bell Cleaners just opposite the depot.

Those who still remember him agree that he was never known to beg, but accepted food from the sympathetic ladies of the community. He made some money repairing umbrellas, hence the name by which many knew him. (The Umbrella Man). He is said to have been well-educated and could speak several languages to some degree.

In an article written by Messenger staffer Bill Burdine in 1969, we find the story of his last days. On one hot July day, Mr. Burdine tells us Mr. Montague passed out on West Church St. and was taken by a patrolman to the clinic.
Here the nurse bathed him (perhaps his first bath in many years because of his life style).
They found implanted at the base of his spine a thin sheet of rustproof metal of some type, two by two and a half inch in size. On it was inscribed the following, "You were born on the Isle of Man, and here you had better stay; for
wherever you go on this here globe, you'll regret to your dying day. Signed sealed and stitched. 1885."