Family Memory (XLVIII): Don’t Mess with My Mom

So way back yonder, kids regularly walked to and from school. Parents didn’t pick them up often–they biked, walked, or took a school bus. Rain, wind, none of that really mattered. Not better or worse, but a different world, for sure.

So my mom and Uncles Karl and Helmut would walk from home to Wells-Carey School. It’s a twelve block walk…I suppose that sucked when it rained. Of course, as kids, you can have a lot of fun unsupervised on a walk to or from school…or if you’re in high school, you can sneak a cigarette in…not that my mom EVER would do that…

So one day, when my mom was in 5th grade, she didn’t wait for my uncles to walk home. I don’t think they cared. She knew where home was–she was probably with friends or was in trouble for talking too much in class. But she wasn’t.

There was a boy her age who’d been held back a year so he was in Uncle Helmut’s class (not an intelligence thing–likely just due to a birthdate sort of thing). During that school day, he’d either done something to Mom or said something and Mom, well, I come by my temper fair and square. So rather than walk home with Uncles Karl and Helmut, she took a different route, one that just happened to be the route Roger Hempen would walk home past Kiser Park.

And there, at the park, pretty much public view–and in a way that would cause a ton of social media fuss now 70 years later, Mom pounded a set of lumps on him.

I loved hearing the story–because Mom was such a “strange” combination of tomboy and lady-like. She was happy to play with dolls, sew, and cook, but she could also do sports, show physical strength, and…apparently pound some sense into a boy who needed a reminder not to mess with a Haas.

But alas, she’s no longer here to mention the story to. Roger Hempen? He died last year, too–that was when my Uncle Helmut was told the story. Apparently he became a beloved 5th grade teacher for nearly 40 years in Keokuk. Did my mom affect his career choice? No idea…but I do love Mom stories.