Two new pieces appear today about strong, no-nonsense women.  Allen Saxon introduces his Aunt Bess, a nurse who handled the toughest of patients with competence.  The other woman whose story appears today, a spiritual sister to Aunt Bess, is my mother, Nellie Schmidt.

My older brother, Emory, keeper of the E Z Way Inn kitchen knife (I have the soup kettle) tells the tale. 

We have, of course, the newspaper report to remind us of that day, and as Emory tells it, without the newspaper, he might not have ever been informed!

I, too learned about the robbery from the Kankakee Daily Journal. While I was unlocking the front door to let myself in after a long day of seventh grade, our paper boy came running down the street waving the front page and yelling, "Extra, extra," as if he were announcing a gangland slaying in the 1920's.

There on the front page, I saw my parents.  As soon as I got inside, I called the tavern.  Nellie answered.  Flustered,  I asked if it was true.

"Of course it's true, it's in the paper isn't it?" my mother said. 

I could hear the Friday-after-work Roper Stove crowd in the background. My mom, handling her own work with competence and professionalism, yelled at someone to just hold his horses.

Back to me on the phone, my mother battled any post-traumatic stress by saying what she always said when I phoned her too soon after arriving home from school.

"Listen, honey, call me later.  It's rush hour."