Susan Levitte
All About Me
Susan was born and raised as the fifth generation to live on the family land in Northeast North Dakota (nearly Canada). She moved to Wisconsin in 1997, living in Door and Manitowoc
County and now resides in the pastoral Kewaunee County. Married to Quentin, they share their home with Olive and Penny, their silly Labrador retrievers, and Gil, their ever-lazy cat. As a devoted reader of historical fiction and nonfiction, she brings her passion for history and desire to educate readers into her work. With 25 years of experience in global advertising and marketing, she holds a master’s degree in communications and currently contributes her expertise to the Green Bay Austin Straubel International Airport.
My HP Books
The fall of 1871 placed a new demand on the Lake Michigan states of Wisconsin, Michigan and Illinois.
Global immigrants and United States migrants had been working hard to mold these
states into viable farmland, prosperous wood product manufacturing and growing cities. They had dealt with mosquitos, thick trees, language barriers, epidemics and all the other trials that come with state building post-Civil War. Unfortunately, on the night of October 8, 1871, deadly fires ran through upper and lower Michigan, both sides of The Bay of Green Bay in Wisconsin and the city of Chicago Illinois. On the west side of The Bay of Green Bay, the community around the city of Peshtigo saw the largest loss of life recorded of all these fires, yet the Chicago fire is typically what is remembered of this disastrous night. On the peninsula of Wisconsin’s east side of The Bay of Green Bay the Great Fire of October 8, 1871, appears to only have been documented in print through newspaper paragraphs and the short story of the survival by Thomas Williamson and his mother. The human story of the Great Fire of October 8, 1871, on the peninsula of Wisconsin’s east side of The Bay of Green Bay, doesn’t appear to have a printed account like that of Father Peter Pernin who survived the fire in Peshtigo that night on the other side of the bay. He printed sold copies of his terrifying night to help rebuild that community several years after the fire. Compelled to acknowledge those who died and survived in this region, I’ve utilized newspaper archive snips and the few printed family accounts to tell the story of Kewaunee County that fiery fall.
