The Hoppe Sisters

When I was nine years old, my family moved from the tiny town of Elroy, Wisconsin to the relatively large city of Shreveport, Louisiana.  My father was the pastor at a Lutheran church, which was growing due to his hard work.  My mother was his partner in the church work, so they were gone doing good deeds most of the day and often in the evenings.  In those days, parents didn't worry about where their kids were.  If we said we were going outside to play or to play with neighborhood kids, they never checked up on us.  We knew what was out of bounds, and we didn't go there, at least I didn't.  We'd come back in time for supper or chores. The only thing I did was go barefooted, which my mother strictly forbade.  According to her, only poor people went without shoes; plus, you could get worms by going barefooted. So I would go outside wearing my shoes, take them off next to the outside faucet, and when I came home, wash off my feet and put my shoes back on.  She never knew.

It was my great luck that two little girls close to my age lived three houses down from us on Merrick Street: Ann and Camille Hoppe.  Unlike most of the other little girls on our street, they welcomed me to their playtimes during the summer. They didn't seem to mind that I had thick glasses and a Yankee accent. It is through them that I was introduced to a completely different life from what I had experienced in my home.

Ann and Camille lived in a large, rambling two-story house with a screened porch on the front.  The summers in Louisiana were beastly hot and humid. In those days before air conditioning, Ann and Camille were allowed to sleep on day beds on the porch at night, something my mother thought was not proper for young girls to do.  I envied them exceedingly, while Rosemary and I sweltered in our bed at night.

Their mother worked as a surgical nurse at night, so she slept during the day.  Because of that, we had to be quiet when we were in the house.  We were under the benign watchfulness of their very elderly grandfather, Mr. Hamilton, who spent his days sitting up in bed reading books.  His bedroom was neat and orderly, while the rest of the house looked like a whirlwind had gone through it.  I loved it. Mr. Hamilton had an ancient car, maybe a Hudson, that was beat to hell.  The upholstery on the back seat was shot, with the springs coming through.  It was covered with a colorful blanket.  The shocks on the car were useless, also, so the car swayed surprisingly whenever you came to a stop.  However, we didn't mind a bit, because he would take us to the drive-in theater--three little girls on an adventure in the summertime.  

Mrs. Hoppe had a boyfriend named Sonny.  Sonny had been in the Navy, so he was the first heavily-tattooed person I met.  He was a wild man, with many tales of his adventures around the world.  He had a motor scooter and convinced me to go with him for a little ride one day, which I did.  I think we just went around the block. He took it easy and didn't scare me.  When I was in high school, Sonny got cancer.  The family had joined our church, so my father would go to see him in the hospital.  Even as he lay dying, he would regale my father with his exploits.  Dad would come home laughing, amazed at how Sonny could still be Sonny, even in his last days.

After elementary school, I stopped running around with Ann and Camille as much.  We were never in the same classes at school, and we largely went our separate ways.  Ann was in my graduating class at Byrd H.S. She did sign my yearbook, so we must have still been in contact somewhat.  But I don't remember that we did things together anymore after those first few years in Shreveport.  However, I will always be grateful to them.  They welcomed a strange little girl into their fascinating life, and that was priceless to me.

I'm sorry to say that I don't have any pictures of the Hoppe sisters from that time.  I do have this snapshot of me on my bicycle taken July of 1955.  I am on the sidewalk in front of our house on Merrick Street. In the background, I think you can see Mr. Hamilton's car next to the fence and the screened porch on the front of the Hoppe sisters' house.