Backstory

Michael Hart was born in 1848 as the son of Thomas Hart, founder of the Hart Lumber Company. The Hart family’s roots ran deep in Shadewood Hollow, their lineage marked by independence and grit. Thomas Hart built the lumberyard with his own hands in 1826, transforming it into one of the town’s proudest symbols of self-reliance.

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Michael grew up in the shadow of timber giants — trees that towered like kings over the Appalachian highlands. From the age of ten, he followed his father through the woods, learning how to read grain, fell trees, and count growth rings like years on a ledger. His father’s words echoed through the timberline: "A tree don’t fall twice. Make the first swing count.”

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But the ground beneath their feet wasn’t as steady as the roots above. Monaghan’s mining operations shook the hills, their reckless digging causing landslides that crushed entire acres of forest. The Hart family’s timber contracts dried up, and Monaghan’s grip tightened. Forced into debt, Thomas Hart made a deal with Monaghan’s bank — a deal he could never repay. By 1867, Monaghan owned the lumberyard, and Thomas Hart lost everything.

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For Michael, it was a fall harder than any tree. He was set to inherit the business, but instead, he became a worker in his own family’s yard. No longer the son of the boss, he was "just another woodhand" under the thumb of Monaghan-appointed managers. They made sure to remind him of it daily, turning his family name into a punchline.

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But where his father broke, Michael bent — and he never snapped. Quiet acts of defiance marked his days. He miscounted log shipments, misplaced inventory, and taught younger workers how to "stretch the shift" without getting caught. His small rebellions didn’t go unnoticed. Workers started calling it "Hart’s Yard" again, though Monaghan’s name was still on the ledgers.

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By 1890, Michael was known as "The Last Hart." The men followed his lead, not because he demanded it, but because he earned it. Rumors linked him to Eleanor Daws, the labor organizer stirring rebellion among miners. Monaghan’s enforcers began watching him closely, their eyes sharp as sawblades. But Michael knew the lumberyard better than any of them. He stayed one step ahead.

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The lumberyard might belong to Monaghan on paper, but the workers still call it Hart’s Yard. They don’t see Michael as a man broken. They see a man waiting. And if Monaghan’s men think they’ve seen the last of the Harts, they’d do well to remember: "A tree don’t fall twice."

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