It was a clear crispy day as we walked home from school together, and my friends and my sister couldn’t stop talking for the excitement of it all.

“Who will you write about?” asked Albertina Fridle. She was the eldest of our little group, and never seemed to have ideas of her own. With a name like that, you would think she would be the most original person around, but such was not the case.

“I thought Lincoln would be the easiest to do, and Miss Marble did suggest him,” said Josephine Secor, who was 17, the same age as my sister.

“Oh, everyone will be doing Lincoln. Or I should say everyone who can’t think for themselves. I cannot imagine Miss Marble would give a very high mark for that. And how could you think of anything to say that hadn’t already been said and read a million times. I know he visited here in Bridgeport - so perhaps your parents actually saw him, did they?” asked my older sister Cora Sue.

“No, we weren’t living here then. We come from Illinois,” replied Josephine.

“I could have laughed aloud at the expression on Miss Marble’s face when you asked her if it couldn’t be a woman,” she added, turning to me. “Anyway, you are being very quiet. Have you thought of any famous women besides the ones you rattled off in class - Queen Victoria, Maria Antoinette and Saccacawea.”

“She shouldn’t have said what she did,” I countered.

“Everybody knows about it. It shouldn’t still be worrying you now,” said Josephine meaning to be helpful but in fact annoying me all the more.

“Why don’t you write about Mr. Bennett? He might invite us to interview him in New York and take us around his newspaper office. You’d like that wouldn’t you, with your writing aspirations?”

“Yes, that is a good idea, and Mr. Bennett is properly famous. But I think I will write about Pa. But going to New York and finding out more from Mr. Bennett is a smashing idea.”

We had traversed the snowy streets by now and were just about at our front door. The house we were renting was a big wooden structure with clapboard sides. We said our goodbyes to our friends who live a bit further down the road, and Cora Sue and I went in.

“Gracious me, shut that door as quickly as you can and don’t let all my hot air out,”said Aunt Lillie. No need to guess what she’d been doing because the house was full of the lucious smell of home baked bread and coffeecake.

“Grandma’s feeling a bit perkier today, so I thought we’d have a bit of a  party later, and you can try my poppyseed cake.”

Grandma had her 76th birthday not long ago, and although she is nearly blind, and fairly crippled with arthritis, she keeps in a pretty good humor most of the time. But Christmas is always hard on her because she misses our family back in Wisconsin so much.

We’ve been here almost two years now, since Lillie and William got married. He heard that there were job prospects out here, and with him having cousins here, we made the huge decision and moved out here to start life all over again. I miss La Crosse too, but even though our winters here seem just as cold, they don’t seem to last quite so long.

After we got out of our school clothes we went back into the kitchen where we knew we would find Grandma in her favorite rocker.

“Anything exciting happen at school today girls?” she asked, as we both went over to kiss her on the cheek.

“We have a huge assignment which will count as 50% of our final grade. We have to write an essay of at least 10,000 words about What Famous Person I Would Most Like to Meet.”

“That sounds a big assignment. Have you decided who you will write about yet?”

“No, but we have thought seriously about Mr. Bennett, and Mattie says she wants to write about Dad, but I don’t think she should.”

“Mattie dear, it would stir up such memories if you did. Do you think you could cope with thinking about all that again and then writing about it and having other people read it?”

“He was famous. And I would like to meet him,” I said firmly. “I will give it a go, and if I find it too emotional, I will switch to Mr. Bennett.”

“But I wanted to do Mr. Bennett,” said Cora Sue.

“I know who you could do - Mr. Barnum, the circus man. Not many towns have their own circus man to interview. He certainly is famous, and I’m sure he would give you an interview.”

“Would you come with me if he agreed? I couldn’t do it on my own.”

“Yes, of course, I would, and it might help me with my writing too, because he has some Indians in his show.”

“Which kind of Indians?” said Lillie, shortly, spilling her coffee and getting very agitated at the way the conversation was going.

“I don’t know, but you can’t blame all the Indians in the world because of what happened to Pa.”

“He called them Red Devils and that is good enough reason for me to stay clear of all of them. I really wish you wouldn’t do your project on that.”

I went over with the dishcloth and wiped up the spilled coffee.

“Oh, Aunt Lillie, come and sit down and rest your poor feet. Have another cup of coffee and some of your delicious coffee cake. You mustn’t get yourself all in a stew what with the baby coming and all. How long is it that you’ve got now?”

“That’s called changing the subject, Martha Grace Kellogg, and you know it full well,” but she laughed, and the subject was dropped for the time being.

But I knew I was going to do it. I needed to do it, for me, for Pa, for Mr. Bennett, but maybe most of all for the Red Devils themselves. After we had finished I went upstairs to my bedroom and got out my notebook, and wrote down the title,

If I Could Meet Someone Famous, Who Would It Be?
by Mattie G Kellogg, aged 16
Essay for English Composition, Bridgeport High School,
Bridgeport, Connecticut, USA
January 5, 1870