A special thank you to all those who have participated in our “I Remember Rippey” series. Your remembrances have allowed readers to share in our town’s history, activities, sports, school, church, and daily life covering 150 years.
We will continue posting online here, using “I Remember Rippey” remembrances received, though those received after April, 2020 will not be in the printed history book. If you would like to read more Rippey history, you may also click on the History tab of the Rippey Library website: https://www.rippey.lib.ia.us .
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Bubble Up And Dress-Up by Brittany (Fessler) Jungck
Janet Fessler always smelled of “Timeless” by Avon and she always wore white Keds.
She knew I preferred to be on adventures or tag along, and she had infinite patience for my
incessant talking (probably because I get it from my grandpa!). So, often when my dad and
Jerald were in the field, I was with her. Grandpa liked to smoke his pipe in the pickup, and he’d
tap it on his boot as he’d exit the cab. When he laughed, it sounded like a mix between
sandpaper and Ernie from Sesame Street. And he always had a story.
During my childhood, I spent five years living down the road from their farm, and fifteen
living seven miles away in Perry. Yet, because I tagged along with them both often, I have
many fond memories in Rippey with them both. At a young age, I realized that if I spent a day in
the tractor with my grandpa, then during lunch, he’d usually take me to the cafe. There, we’d
get burgers and fries and he would always proudly order me a “Bubble Up.” The sweet sugar
was like candy and he was tickled how a soda could make me so happy. We’d play cards, for a
bit, but usually we’d get distracted because grandpa knew every single person in town and no
one could resist his stories.
Being known as “Jerald’s oldest granddaughter” or “Janet’s oldest granddaughter” or
“Clark’s daughter” was just my normal. People understood our family history, knew the line, and
we’d laid down roots in a place that might be small, but held a lot of history. For example, I am
the only grandchild that has any memories of my Great Grandma (Ferne) Holmes, also of
Rippey. She wasn’t warm, but she was strong. She lived in the brick apartments, and she’d let
me play with her tops on her patio while my dad fixed things around her house. Later, after
learning more about her, I’d realize I probably get a lot of my strong-willed nature, bravery, and
stoicness from her…she wrote for the paper and lead her own life in a time when that just wasn’t
common elsewhere.
Grandma used to take me to library hour each summer, to yard sales to buy dress-up
clothes, to the cemetery every Memorial Day, to the post office because she was always
sending cards, to the church to leave a pan of brownies, and to the recycling bins to stomp
cans. When I drive through the few city blocks of Rippey, I still smell Timeless in my mind
because so many corners of the minute town hold huge memories of her.
Their ghosts haunt Rippey, but not in a way that is threatening or startling, but in a way
that warms my heart. I still can hear my grandpa giving a speech in the Mason Hall (now
library) about one of their vacations—complete with slides! I can still remember climbing out of
the 4320 to go in and grab a bottle of Pepsi from the CO-OP, and I can still taste the Bubble-Up.
That is why I am so proud to now call this place MY home.