I believe everyone has a story to tell. All of us. Our ancestors passed down our stories orally. Usually, there was one person who was the storyteller for the family – and children learned their history at that person’s knee. Today, we hope that our children study well in school. Some families are into genealogy – and will pass on a book with pictures and words that show generations. But are there stories in that book? Oh, probably not. And what of the story of a town?
We are indeed blessed with our Historical Society. They do fantastic work! You can walk into the museum and be transported back in time. The one thing missing, is the individual stories. We can see the well known people of the town, and hear about their lives some. But what about the rest of us?
I live in Hampton Iowa and my business partner and I will be writing the book The Hampton Project over the course of the next year. We will be interviewing people from our community – and sharing the story about our town. Last Saturday I spoke with several people in town. Today I’m sharing an interview given by a young lady. It may not be big news – but it sure was to her!
What is your name?
How old are you?
who are your parents?
Holly and Randy
where do you live?
In Hampton, in a yellow house on the North side
So I hear you have a story for me?
It’s about when I was a baby. It starts when I was 10 weeks old. I was in a baby contest. First we started out in Mason City. I got first place in the contest there. Then we had to go to Iowa City for the next one – I got 2nd place. But while there I got a hemangioma (blood clot).
We had to stop the baby contest in Iowa City and start going to the hospital.
After Iowa City we had to go to Chicago for another baby contest. While we were in Chicago, I got first place there. Then we had another competition in Chicago but we had to stop with the baby contest because the hemangioma was getting so big. It was on my neck on the right side. See? You can still see the purple mark.
Then we had to come back to Hampton and have a doctor look at it and give us another appointment in Iowa City. I was four years old by this time. Then my mom had to give me a shot in my thigh twice a day. She had a hard time giving me shots because I squirmed to much. So I didn’t always get two shots. Finally it started to go away. But if I had fallen on it I would have bled to death. So it’s a good thing it went away!
That’s my story. I’m only ten.
Saw your tweet and clicked the URL you provided. Nice hometown feeling to your writing. My Mother grew up on a farm in Wheatland, Wyoming. Survived the depression by eating the food they grew.
Her Dad had the general store in town, gave away a lot on credit during the tough times.
My Mom’s brother tricked her one day, she was five years old. He said, “go out to that pump handle and you’ll taste the sweetest ice cream ecer!” She did and promptly attached her tongue to the frozen pump handle. Her Mother ha to come outside with a pan of warm water to release her.
I believe another part of my Uncle’s anatomy became very warm that day as well. His backside no doubt..
Thank you for your gift of writing. It provided much needed joy in our home!
Thanks Nicholas for the post — I, too, have had the frozen tongue experience!
Keep twitting, you’re a great read!