Let the bell ring

The story goes that my great grandmother climbed up into the cupola of her house to ring the bell on the day World War I ended. She was more than thrilled that the war was over, at least over for the western world. She was totally thrilled that her son, my grandfather (who had boarded a ship to be deployed that very day into certain danger) was coming home.

My great grandmother was a quiet, unassuming person. Not the type to draw any attention to herself. But apparently she lost a bit of her inhibitions in her excitement. What better thing to do than to let the neighborhood know her joy. According to my mother, who told the story, she rang and rang and rang it for quite some time before climbing down. My mother loved to climb up there as a child, but never knew her grandma to ever climb there. Of course my mom wasn't yet alive when this story took place, as her father, the soldier coming home, was only engaged to her mother.  It apparently was one of those stories passed down through time. It's a good one.


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