Reading Between The Lines
SLEEPY HOLLOW, 1998
Easter eggs, behind-the-scenes content and other spoilers
Chapter 1
Diedrich
The clue in the first letter
Near the end of his first letter, Ichabod nudges Diedrich to use the email account he set up for him. He even spells out how to find it.
“it’s just your first name @ your first name dash your last name. ”
Use Diedrich Knickerbocker’s name and add .com :
A reply from his granddaughter
Email the address and Gretchen Knickerbocker replies with the missing poster attached. This is her response.
- From
- diedrich@diedrich-knickerbocker.com
- Subject
- Re: your message
This is Diedrich’s granddaughter. Thanks for your email. It’s nice to know that not everyone is ready to just move on. The family, the whole freaking Knickerbocker clan, they decided it’s just easier to act like he’s gone for good. So they went and had him declared legally dead. Years I had to listen to them bicker about it, about all the hoops they had to jump through, how annoying it was. As if something like this should be simple.
You’d think he was some kind of robber baron, they way they fought over the estate. It was actually kinda funny to see how disappointed they were that there wasn’t some secret, hidden cache of valuables in one of the sagging bookshelves that lined his apartment. They couldn’t wait to auction off his stuff, to squeeze something out of it.
I only asked for two things. The first was his leather satchel. It was always stuffed to overflowing with his papers – research papers to review, student papers to grade, and all kinds of random slips and scraps. I never saw him without it. It’s bulky, there’s no strap and no compartment for phones or other modern conveniences, so I guess they figured they wouldn’t get anything for it. So they let me take it.
The second thing was access to this email address. Because I don’t believe he’s really gone. I know he’s out there somewhere. Maybe he’s lost, or confused. Maybe he needs help. Maybe someone out there has seen him, or knows something.
They’ve spent hours and hours telling me I’m nuts. They laid out the evidence, the logic, all the reasons why it’s stupid to think he’ll ever come back.
But I don’t believe it. I can’t. I know what I know, and I believe what I believe.
I know you’re out there somewhere, Grandpa. I’m holding your satchel for when you get back.
Gretchen Knickerbocker
Another way in
If you visit Diedrich’s website instead, you’ll find the same missing poster and a link to email him.
Chapter 4
Claire
Songs for a Haunted Forest
Chapter 3 contained Katrina’s mixtape liner notes. In his pre-chapter 4 email, Gideon mentioned that Claire had recreated the mixtape on Spotify:
In between her frequent trips to the post office and the myriad tasks she undertakes for me, she found the time to recreate Katrina’s compilation .
Claire’s email address is hiding in plain sight on the Spotify playlist page:
Claire writes back
Sending an email to Claire gets you an immediate reply. It also opts you in to further emails from her; in Chapters 5 and 6, after Gideon's email, Claire sends one of her own.
Email 1 · Claire's reply
- From
- claire@gideongranger.com
- Subject
- Re: your message
Hey there:
Gideon probably doesn’t want me responding to you, but genuinely what is he going to do, fire me? Who’s gonna take his letters to the Post Office every day???
I’m not complaining though, this job takes me places I never would have found otherwise. That’s the thing about him. He seems like he’s completely out of his place and time, but somehow he knows how to find things nobody else can.
Lucky for him that even though I was born the year these letters were written, I fear I’m obsessed with the nineties like everyone else my age. It’s strange to me that anyone would think young people find the past boring when, in truth, we yearn for simpler times. Sometimes I feel like I’ll wake up one day and need multi-factor authentication just to open my fridge.
One note about that playlist: that last mashup track isn’t on Spotify, but found it by digging through Soundcloud . I guess that’s one way mixtapes were better – once you had the song, it was yours. I might have to go out and buy one of those new retro cassette players and see what it’s like for myself.
C.
Email 2 · Claire's backstory
- From
- claire@gideongranger.com
- Subject
- origin
Hi there. In between trips to the post office, Gideon has me camping out at the library. I looked up the original Gideon Granger, who was Postmaster General of the US under, get this, Thomas Jefferson. This guy was a piece of work, and he was notorious for reading peoples’ mail. (Maybe that’s where this Gideon gets it from. At least he’s only reading old letters, not current ones. As far as I know.)
But the main reason I’m here is to try confirming what’s in the letters about Sleepy Hollow’s holidays. Fortunately for me, I genuinely love going through old microfiche records. Even if it’s years and years of President’s Day mattress sale ads in the Sleepy Hollow Gazette. Actually, it was in a library where I first met Gideon, a few years ago. The New York Public Library, as a matter of fact.
You know how you can feel it when someone is watching you? Before I even saw him, I knew he was there. My guard went up immediately. But then something about his smile disarmed my defenses. I could just tell he wasn’t the dangerous kind of weird.
He apologized for interrupting and asked what I was researching. I told him the truth: I was a student at CCNY, taking a seminar on Herman Melville, and I was hunting down records of Melville’s time working as a New York customs inspector. It’s the sort of unbelievably niche topic that usually got me mystified looks. As in, “why would you possibly be interested in something so dull.”
But Gideon was delighted. Like, his face actually lit up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card (lowkey I didn’t think anybody even used business cards anymore) and a whole ass fountain pen (???) from his pocket, scribbled something on the back, and handed it to me. “I don’t think you’ll find what you’re looking for here. But if you call my friend at the Customs House downtown and tell him I sent you, you may have more luck.” I looked down at the card again. There was a phone number and a name, “Jacques-Marie Johnson.” When I looked up, he was gone.
I wasn’t about to take this random guy’s word, so I kept scouring through NYPL’s collection. But he was right, my search was fruitless. I hate making phone calls, but I didn’t really have other options. So I called the number and asked for Mr. Johnson. As I explained what I was looking for, I could practically feel his impatience coming through the phone. I almost forgot, but when I finally got out, “Gideon Granger told me to call you,” his attitude immediately changed. He invited me to come down the very next morning.
The downtown Customs House is actually the “Alexander Hamilton U.S. Custom House,” and they have life-sized statues of Hamilton and Burr shooting at each other (hot take but Burr was right and Hamilton was a dick. Hmm, it occurs to me that this was around the same time the old Gideon Granger was doing his thing. That’s a rabbit hole I need to remember to fall down some day.) Anyway I met Mr. Johnson, who looked like he’d not set foot outside the archive in a couple of decades. He ushered me into a back room. Waiting there was a massive file of papers over 150 years old: Herman actual Melville’s actual custom inspection records. Like, written in his own handwriting. The same handwriting that wrote Moby-fucking-Dick. I was speechless.
Johnson told me to take all the time I needed. Before he could leave, I blurted out the question that had been lurking at the back of my mind: “Who is Gideon Granger?” He was silent a moment, then said, “There are people who just have a talent for finding things. Objects. Stories. People. That’s Gideon.” He left me alone with the papers, and I spent the entire day filling my notebook.
I locked in and wrote my paper over the next two days, in a furious sprint and fighting for my life. Turned it in, got an A+, and the professor seemed at least somewhat interested in getting it published in a journal somewhere. And all that sounded great, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the freaky library guy.
I still had his card, so I worked up my nerve and called the number. It rang and rang, and just as I was about to hang up, he answered. I told him how my paper turned out, and that I couldn’t have done it without his help. I asked if I could repay him in any way, if there was anything he needed help with. He said I owed him nothing.
I almost hung up right then, but instead I blurted out, “How do you find all these things?” I could hear his smile through the phone. He said, “if you still want to know, call me back when you have my degree.” Okaaaay.
For the next two years, I kept his card on my desk. When things were tough, it was a reminder that sometimes the universe aligns to bring you things when you least expect them. And there were some dark times over the next few years.
After those two years, I graduated. And you’ll be shocked to hear that a literature degree wasn’t causing employers to beat down my door. So I called him. I had no idea what to expect, or if he’d even remember me. But if I didn’t call, I’d never find out.
He answered, and I started to explain who I was, but he cut me off, saying “Of course I remember you.” I told him I’d finished school. He said something super cryptic like, “Your timing is fortuitous, as I find myself in need of an assistant. I cannot promise riches or glory, but you can be assured that you will not be bored.”
So obviously, I accepted. Sometimes I wonder how my life would have been different if I hadn’t gone to the library that day. I can’t even imagine.
Claire, the sub-sub librarian
Email 3 · Claire's judgment
- From
- claire@gideongranger.com
- Subject
- sketch
Look, Gideon and I are from very different backgrounds and eras. So my take on this whole Sleepy Hollow thing is a lot less generous:
Ichabod is a creep. He’s basically lied to Katrina the entire time, pretended to be someone he wasn’t, told her what he thought she wanted to hear.
And yes, okay, I can hear you saying that he’s obviously some flavor of neurodivergent. You’re probably right. But so am I. And being on the spectrum is no excuse for being an asshole.
Once you read the last installment, you tell me: did the guy get what he deserved?
-Claire
Chapter 6
Katrina
The museum postcard
Chapter 6 includes a PastWeb copy of Cameo Wood’s 2004 blog post, “A Day Trip To Sleepy Hollow.” Among her photos is a postcard from the Sleepy Hollow Village Museum, with a phone number along the bottom edge.
A voice on the other end
The main story takes place in 1998, the blog post is dated 2004, but what happens if you call the number today? You'll discover that the number still works, and that a much older Katrina Van Tassel has made it her life's work.
Show transcript Hide transcript
You’ve reached Katrina Van Tassel-Brunt, Executive Director of the Sleepy Hollow Village Museum.
We are open to the public Wednesday through Sunday, noon to 4 p.m. We offer special evening programs during October only. Advanced reservations are strongly recommended. We hope you’ll come visit us.
Sleepy Hollow is a special place, and in the twenty-five years or so it’s been since I started running this museum, I’ve only grown to love it more. We think you will too.
For research inquiries about our historical archives or our Sleepy Hollow Oral History Project, please leave a detailed message, and I will get back to you within two business days. Unless this is October, in which case you may not hear from me till closer to Thanksgiving. Thanks.
The voice of Katrina Van Tassel is performed by Tara Platt .
Gideon’s Voice
We had a stretch goal for the Kickstarter to produce a full-cast audio recording of the story. But even though we didn't reach that stretch goal, our intended Gideon, Yuri Lowenthal, went ahead and recorded some of his emails and messages anyway.
