Frank’s Place

By Nick Gerlich Photographs by David J. Schwartz - Pics On Route 66

FRANK’S PLACE

Route 66 was always a rather fluid road. That’s not to say it was underwater. It’s just that, from its inception, it seemed that the ink was never allowed to dry on highway maps. New alignments—a technical term among roadies meaning the specific physical route that the road took—were as common as the changing seasons, as improvements were made in road engineering and traffic flow.

By the time that Jack Rittenhouse published A Guide Book To Highway 66 in 1946, the route had already changed around tiny Williamsville, Illinois, which today is on the verge of becoming a bedroom community for the growing state capital, Springfield. While the original alignment went through Williamsville on Taylor and Elm Streets, by about 1940 the small business district had been bypassed with a gentle arc around the west side of town.

It was this new route that Rittenhouse drove, and then commented: “The town is a quarter of a mile off U.S. 66. There is a garage in town, but no other gas station or facilities on the highway.” Then, as is often the case today, it took several years for businesses to either relocate to or build on the new bypass. But the garage that Rittenhouse noted remained in the center of town, and over time would come to be known as The Old Station. It may not function as it once did, but it is no less popular because of changes along the highway. In fact, Mother Road travelers rather like it for being a snapshot of how things once were.

Back In Time

Williamsville was never a large town. Platted in 1853 as Benton with the coming of the Chicago and Mississippi Railroad, the historic depot, which still stands, was built a year later. The village was incorporated in 1884 as Williamsville, in honor of Col. John Williams, a Springfield businessman. Williams had fought in the Black Hawk War in 1832 with Abraham Lincoln, and the two had become good friends.

By the time Rittenhouse drove through, it had a population of 649. That is much the same as it boasted 20 years prior when Route 66 was christened. Today, it has grown to 1,425, and just as it did nearly a century ago, owes much of its economy to agriculture. This is farming and livestock country. The railroad was instrumental.

In the mid-1930s a new gas station was built on Elm Street, which was then part of the original Route 66 alignment through town. That station is still standing, albeit with a different purpose and look. While historical accounts are sketchy and have obvious gaps, Mike Saffer is reported to have been the filling station operator there around 1935, and it wasn’t until 1943-1944 that the record showed it being a Marathon station, which it remained for another two decades.

From 1945-1950, the station was owned by Duane Roberson. It was at this time that the station earned the nickname, Roberson’s Station. But the location then went through a succession of owners whose last names, the best that can be gleaned from the data, were McDaniel, Dempo, and Rhodes. Around 1963, the station quit selling gas entirely, having been doubly bypassed, first by a new alignment, and then by I-55.

At this point, there are more holes in the record, but available information tells of it being used for repairs of various sorts. It was not until the early 2000s that Frank Kohlrus, a Williamsville native, bought it, and forever changed the ethos. For upward of a dozen years, Frank sold memorabilia, originally calling it Die Cast Autos. By 2008, though, he had sold off the cars and renamed it The Old Station, a name it still carries to this day.

From that point, Frank’s place became a haven for the older gentlemen in town, who gathered mostly just for conversation. But it was not long before Route 66 travelers noticed and joined the party. Frank’s collection of vintage ephemera— he could not decide whether he was a hoarder or a collector—grew considerably, including old license plates, pipes, toy trucks, soda bottles, signs, and anything that caught his fancy. It was a testosterone-fueled retreat before that kind of place ever had a name. Men loved it.

In addition to the memorabilia, Frank also sharpened blades, fixed flats, did machine work, bought and sold lawn mowers, and even hauled hay. Frank was a jack of all trades, doing a little bit of everything, but not a whole lot of anything.

Frank, who had previously operated Frank’s Towing for 20 years in Springfield, was anything but a tidy shopkeeper, and the “Smoking Required” sign inside explained the cloud indoors. But that was Frank, a man who became known along 66 for his eccentricities, all of which worked in concert to attract travelers and locals. Alas, for all the quirkiness that he instilled in that old station, Frank eventually wished to retire, and it was time to find the exit.

Man Cave

It has become trendy for men and women alike to have their own quiet places to shrink away from the daily grind. From she-sheds to man caves, these can be rooms attached to the house, or standalone. They are a temporary getaway that allow the occupant to be themselves, doing and decorating in ways that might raise the eyebrows of their spouse.

That’s perhaps the best way to describe The Old Station today. It was bought by Jason Hayward, age 50, in 2016, and over the last six years, he has put his personal touches on it. In the process, he has established his not-so-secret getaway a few blocks from home where he can work on car restorations and a growing set of signs and other petroliana that he refuses to call a collection.

Oh, and just like when Frank owned the place, it still attracts folks who want to see what it’s all about. After all, vintage vehicles, gas pumps, and so forth practically beg people to lock up the brakes. It has become Jason’s connection to the Mother Road, and he welcomes visitors, even when he’s not able to be there.

Frank Kohlrus poses in front of The Old Station.

“I have grown up in a small town my whole life. The gentleman who had it before me (Frank), I sure liked what he had, but it was a real mess. He just had the following of people from Route 66 who would stop by, and all the old timers who came by to talk. I really liked that,” said Hayward. “When he was ready to sell it, I planned on cleaning it up and making it a Route 66 stop, making it a little bit nicer for the community. I’ve got a lot invested in this town.”

But for Hayward, the station is only an enjoyable pastime. While he actively pursues authentic old porcelain signs to decorate the place, he does not consider himself a collector. “To me, it’s just a hobby. I have a restored car in there. I wouldn’t say I collect memorabilia, but I find stuff and buy it to make it a nice place for people to stop.”

Hayward, who is employed with the Public Works Department for the City of Williamsville, and his father-inlaw have systematically restored many buildings throughout downtown Williamsville. This is but one more that piqued his interest. “When I bought it, it was just a block building. The original gas station was not there, though, just the foundation, but the gas pumps and island were still there. From that block building I added the old gas station over the original foundation, along with an awning.” He then added on a shop for working on his vehicles.

People still stop by every day of the week, in spite of Hayward’s lack of promotional bent. “I don’t advertise. They see it in some magazine or book, and so they stop. That’s about it. I’m not looking for that. That’s not my game. I just like talking to them. They all love America. It’s enjoyable to meet people from different countries, hear their attitudes toward us, see how they act. I want the camaraderie of meeting people from around the world.”

Given that The Old Station is strictly a personal hangout, Hayward does not keep standard operating hours. To quote him: “I’m just there when I’m there.” But that is also part and parcel of operating a Route 66 destination, and it is also part of making the journey. The unknown and unexpected have always been a fun part of a road trip down the Mother Road.

Meanwhile, life goes on in Central Illinois along the Mother Road, the state where most travelers start their journey. Once you leave the busy environs of Chicago, the state opens up to reveal corn fields as far as the eye can see. It’s a state that takes its Route 66 heritage seriously, with more than a few restored old gas stations along the way, more than any of the eight states through which 66 passes.

While each of those stations are true time capsules in their own right, it is The Old Station, a stone’s throw from the historic depot, that is truly a work-in-progress. It’s ever changing, as Hayward acquires more vintage relics, or starts restoring a different vehicle. The ’53 Chevy out front is there now, but there’s always something coming along.

And like the ink on those old maps never drying, so is the paint on the picture that is now Jason’s Old Station.

HILLBILLY HEAVEN

By Gregory R.C. Hasman Photograph by David J. Schwartz - Pics On Route 66

HILLBILLY HEAVEN

Cuba, Missouri, is known for its numerous historical murals, its odd name (yes, it’s named for the island nation), and its legendary stone cottage-court motel. But that doesn’t mean that the two-story log structure with the Ozarkian name and the BBQ aroma wafting out its front door goes unnoticed. Far from it, as its young secondgeneration owner shows dedication beyond his years in following in his father’s footsteps after a family tragedy. But the story of this Missouri spot actually began way back in the 1940s.

Robert Martin, a Scottish immigrant working as a salesman, and his wife Margaret, were living in Cape Girardeau, Missouri, as they explored possible locations to build a lodging business. After a quick visit in 1934, Cuba jumped out. It seemed like a great choice for their new venture, so they purchased a large lot right on Route 66. By the mid-1940s, Robert had constructed a fairy-tale grouping of stone cabins, a cafe, and a gas station that they called the Wagon Wheel Court (later Motel). The location became popular quickly, but Robert kept building, acquiring a 1.07-acre lot to the east. There, he constructed a second cafe and station: Chester’s Cafe, and Cooke Service Station, which served Phillips 66 and later, Texaco, gasoline. The add-on became known simply as the Wagon Wheel Annex. In 1946, Cuba native Paul Killeen and his Michigan-born wife Barbara Killeen purchased the business, shortening the name to just The Annex.

In the tradition of most mom-and-pop businesses of the time—it was the late ‘50s, early ‘60s—their son, Gary, pumped gas and helped at the restaurant as a kid. “You had to do it, [the business] was a part of our lives,” said Gary. The restaurant served cheeseburgers and apple pie and sold souvenirs in a section known as the “Hillbilly Trading Post.” And the service station next door produced more than just gas. Inside was a kiln where Paul made pottery. “It was quite an operation when you consider what all went on there.”

In 1957, Paul leased the property to his parents, Joe and Mabel Killeen. This afforded him the time to open up a new business at Bull Shoals Lake. A few years later, Paul came back and ran The Annex until Interstate 44 was built in the mid-1960s. Paul, like many business owners on Route 66, lost a lot of traffic (about 50% or 60% in his case) and as a result decided it was time to sell. Just before the cafe and service station closed, however, Barbara Killeen opened a beauty shop on the property in 1966 and ran it until the mid-’70s when she pursued a nursing career. After that, the building was used for storage. Paul died in December 1984 of a heart attack.

When Dennis Meiser, former owner of the Cuba bar, Loose Ends, came to look at the vacant building in 2001, he decided to take a calculated risk—he saw a property with potential. Purchasing the building from Barbara Killeen, Meiser, a Wood River, Illinois, native, opened Missouri Hick Bar-B-Que on February 12, 2002.

Eager to come up with ideas that would launch his new venture into success, Meiser visited other barbecue restaurants, ever curious to discover what competitors were doing and how he could set his rustic eatery apart. Not one to shy away from using local culture and stereotypes to his benefit, he wisely erected a new cedar log exterior that emulated an Old West saloon, and rustic lodge-style interiors. Complemented with his cherrywood smoked meats - ribs, brisket or pulled pork, dry-rubbed, then rotisserie smoked for hours, the restaurant quickly became a Missouri must-stop. It was fun and quirky, and perfect for Route 66.

“Dennis was not a typical boss, he was like family,” said General Manager Kate Mueller. “He was always wanting to help people, including employees who he would sometimes advance money [to] if they needed it for an emergency, and he would not reduce it from a future paycheck.”

The business suffered some bumps in the road, including a 2011 fire that damaged the kitchen. Perhaps looking for a change, Meiser put the business up for sale in 2019, but changed his mind and decided to keep it. But what he could not change was a global pandemic. The business had been doing pretty well, as people flocked to the area to get away from places with tighter health restrictions, but in September 2021, Dennis and kitchen manager Mike Matthews passed away from COVID complications within days of each other.

“We always joked that COVID was great to us until it f***ed us,” Mueller said. “We had no idea what was going to happen [next]. It was very scary.”

That was when Dennis’ son Ryan Meiser decided to step up to the plate. He was only 19 years old.

Ryan had helped his dad at the restaurant since he was five years old. Over the years, his duties included busing tables and helping on deliveries. “It was my home away from home,” he said.

Instead of selling the business, Ryan elected to honor his dad by taking over the reins. Just months after graduating Cuba High School and his father’s death, Ryan had no doubt that he would build on his father’s legacy. “I knew that he left me with the tools I needed to step up to the plate to continue [the] business moving forward,” said Ryan.

Mueller has been helping the business stay afloat as the teenager gets his feet wet as the new face of Missouri Hick BarB-Que. “Being young, a lot of people undermine your ability to run a company,” he said. “I’m glad to show everybody that I can keep this business running and be successful.”

Luckily, Ryan’s father put in place many of the unique elements that made Missouri Hick a popular stop for travelers during Dennis’ two decades in business. Waitresses in “I’m a Missouri Hick Chick” T-shirts welcome everyone into the rural, quirky interior. The front counter consists of whiskey barrels, and tables are handcrafted from cedar, while a variety of rustic farm tools and Sinclair and Sunoco gas pumps decorate the dining room. “It almost feels like a cabin or an old-fashioned barn,” said Ryan.

The business celebrated its 20th anniversary in February 2022, but it was a subdued celebration because Dennis was not there. “I would say that was kind of a hard day to get through for most of us,” said Mueller.

While many 20-year-olds are trying to figure out what they want to do in life, Ryan Meiser knows what his mission is: to continue his father’s legacy. “My dad created something special, and I feel, being his heir, that I am responsible for keeping his creation alive and kicking.”

Fresh from Grandma’s C

Small town America is blessed with many a quaint Main Street, but few can match the diversity and picturesque feel of St. Charles, Missouri. It is a pretty special little town. A stroll through Frontier Park in the Historic District offers an awesome view of the Missouri River and a handsome statue of explorers Lewis and Clark. Venture a little farther through Kister Park to actual Main Street, and you’ll find a charming conglomerate of homey restaurants, tempting bake shops, and small, intriguing stores. Amid this window-shopper’s paradise is a little shop whose building is but forty-nine years the junior of the town itself. The colorful sign above the door reads: Grandma’s Cookies, and the quaint appearance and sweet aroma beckon visitors inside.

Built in 1820, the small redbrick building with its black shutters and fresh, white-painted trim was once part of St. Charles Borromeo Church. It served as a rectory for traveling priests who needed a place to stay overnight on their journey west to open parishes. At one point, it was also used as an armory, while the property behind held the parish cemetery and a few small homes for church members.

Eventually, the sturdy little building outlasted its intended purpose and, in 1976, it was purchased by Charlotte Thompson, or “Grandma” as she’s long been known. One side of the building she made into her residence, and in the other she opened a custom garment shop she called “Grandma’s Folly.” There, she made handmade special occasion dresses, but in a surprise transition, she found herself the proprietor of an entirely different business.

Charlotte loved baking as much as sewing, and she began making cookies to occupy the kids who waited in the shop with their mothers. The cookies became a big attraction, and the demand necessitated a twenty-five-cent price per cookie. Baking was paying the bills faster than dressmaking! So, the cookies became the store’s focus and Charlotte recruited some family members to help her run it.

“I started working here when I was ten years old,” said Theresa Rubio, current owner and a distant relative of Charlotte, who was actually the mother-in-law of Theresa’s uncle, though Theresa still called her grandma. “When I started, the cookies sold for fifty cents, and you could get a dozen for five bucks. We say that it’s a family tradition since 1976.” Sometime in the ‘90s, Charlotte decided to retire, and the shop was left in the care of Theresa and her Aunt Nancy, who took care of special orders and deliveries. In 2010, Theresa took on the whole business, and in 2017, she hired a manager, Larry Schneider, to help her run it. However, both Theresa and Larry are still around.

Under Theresa’s leadership, the shop maintains the same values, as well as the same recipes, as the ones that Charlotte employed. “We treat people like family. People come back because they know they’ll get a great cookie and be treated with the respect of a family member. Grandma was the same. She was always so excited and happy to see people when they came in,” said Theresa. Excellent customer service is one thing, but it’s another to back it up with a product that people enjoy and want to buy. It’s not exactly a taxing concern though whether the cookies have lost their touch over the years, because, on a slow day, the shop sells roughly 1,500 cookies. On weekends, they sell somewhere in the thousands. On a festival weekend, such as the Festival of the Little Hills, which is held annually in August, they clear out 10,000 cookies. Those are a lot of cookies.

Day trips, road trips, even a simple outing is always more enjoyable when we park the car and venture around on foot, checking out the more historical side of destinations. And, discovering little gems like Grandma’s Cookies, really is a special treat when we take the chance and explore American towns like St. Charles. As for Charlotte Thompson, she undeniably had the perfect recipe for success.

“She was a mom, a grandma, and a best friend,” said Theresa. “She had many foster kids, along with four of her own. Something we always said was, ‘Even when she didn’t have much, she had much love.’”

And you can taste it right in her scrumptious cookies.

But there’s no doubt that every one of those kids also had made-with-love, fresh-baked cookies. As Charlotte’s framed quote on the shop’s wall reads, “A balanced diet is a cookie in each hand.”

Missouri’s Rollercoaster Highway

Missouri’s stretch of 66 is blessed with an abundance of nostalgic roadside attractions to enjoy and savor. From vintage motels and diners, to neon signs and museums, the Show Me State has it all. But there are specific sections of the approximately 300-mile segments of the Mother Road where the road itself is the attraction, and these are the spots where the Missouri section of the journey really gets magical.

Imagine coasting down the quiet two-lane ribbon, windows down, the breeze in your hair, and the breathtaking Ozark landscape all around. Suddenly the road dips, your stomach drops, and your heart rises in your mouth as the road ascends, then dips and climbs again. These whoop-de-doo undulations, where the road curves, rises, and falls in dramatic ways, have been aptly nicknamed the “Rollercoaster Road.”

“As a kid, my dad was a great driver. And he was a professional driver,” said John Sellars, Executive Director Emeritus at the History Museum on the Square in Springfield. “He drove trucks and so on when he was younger. And when we would go places, it was nothing for us to get incredibly carsick. Just because he drove fast. And that car would be up and down, and up and down, and back and forth, and up and down.”

Route 66 covers 2,448 miles from Chicago to Santa Monica in a diagonal path across the central states and into the Southwest. With Missouri’s distinct topography—rolling hills, forested ridges, caves and springs—over the Ozark Highlands in the southern region of the state, the road followed the lay of the land, with twists and turns, ups and downs, curves on curves, in order to link rural communities. This only made for a more exciting experience for those whose cars hit the pavement.

What’s even more intriguing about the path that the road took across the forested Ozarks Highlands was that these were the only significant hills that travelers would navigate east of the Sandia Mountains in New Mexico. With large segments of Mother Road still intact in eleven counties, to drive Missouri 66, especially from just past Cuba to Springfield, as the road crisscrosses the Interstate, is a chance to explore the two-lane ribbon road at its natural best.

The Bermuda Triangle of the Far West

The country is full of bizarre mysteries and unanswered questions: UFO sightings, haunted locations, Bigfoot, and no one has any idea what happened to Amelia Earhart. But down in sunny Arizona, resting at the bottom of Lake Havasu’s vast body of water in Mohave County, there’s another freak abnormality to add to the ever-growing list. Perhaps forever lost on the floor of the reservoir are two rather large World War II planes that crashed into the lake and are submerged in the dark water and the silt. The oldest of the two has been down there for nearly eighty years, and the question isn’t why no one can get them out. The real question is, where have they gone?

On August 4, 1943, a Pursuit P-40 aircraft piloted by Glen D. Benson crashed in the lake due to engine failure. Benson survived to tell the tale by using his parachute, but the plane sank into the water. Diving teams spent years attempting to locate the aircraft to no avail.

Nearly 17 years later, on January 2, 1960, a war surplus North American AT-63 singleengine fighter also went down, allegedly due to the carburetor freezing up. The crash led to the deaths of two brothers from San Bernardino, who were in the area for duck hunting. The bodies of the two men were recovered, but the plane had mysteriously vanished.

For nearly 80 years, these two aircraft have been residing somewhere in the lake, and their loss has become something of an enigma. The main tourist attraction of the city of Lake Havasu, besides the London Bridge and the miniature lighthouses, is of course, the lake itself. Scuba diving is an important pastime here, and the lake is incredibly popular for diving hobbyists. One of the more well-known areas is Miller’s Folly (or Paddle Wheel Wreck), a ’70s-era sunken party boat that rests at the bottom of Skier’s Cove. This raises the question of why a power boat can be easily discovered and become a tourist attraction, but an enormous 30-foot-wide fighter plane could just utterly disappear. Considering Lake Havasu’s deepest point is about 90 feet, even those who live in the area have a hard time justifying this oddity.

“The deepest point in the lake is closer to the dam,” said Terence Concannon, President/CEO of Go Lake Havasu. “But where the planes could have landed is something closer to around 40 to 50 feet deep. For as long as the planes have been down there, it’s surprising that someone wouldn’t have come across them, even by accident.”

Since the deep end of an average swimming pool is about 12 feet deep, 50 feet isn’t exactly the Mariana Trench (the deepest oceanic trench on Earth). So, these missing vessels should be easily found, and the local government has been set on doing so. In 2014, the Lake Havasu City Convention & Visitors Bureau placed a $1,000 reward for photographic evidence and GPS coordinates of the planes. “It’s not some Loch Ness monster down [there],” said Doug Traub, CEO of the CVB at the time. “These are two real planes piloted by real people. These mysteries attest to the commitment of our servicemen and women and the eternal lure of the skies above.” The reward got the attention of Joel Silverstein, Lake Havasu’s Scuba Training & Technology Vice President and Chief Operating Officer. He led a four-person search party in 2014, armed with a proton magnetometer to map the lake area where the planes may have crashed and investigate any deviations. Unfortunately, despite his experience in the field and the necessary tools, Silverstein emerged from the water empty-handed, as did others who attempted to find the planes. 79 years on, the two planes still lie dormant somewhere at the bottom of the lake. While their locations are still a mystery, it should be known that the $1,000 reward offer was never repealed, and clearly, the Convention & Visitors Bureau wasn’t the only interested party. “The offer has never been rescinded, so if anyone can find the planes, Go Lake Havasu will gladly pay up,” promised Concannon.

Everyone loves a good mystery. These types of puzzles are a part of the very fabric of America. But if an avid diver or two are ever in search of adventure, there’s a mystery waiting to be solved—in the Bermuda Triangle of the Far West.

Megan BUCHBINDER

Not only is Springfield, Missouri, known as the Queen City of the Ozarks, but it also holds the enviable honor of being “the birthplace of Route 66”. Combining big city energy with small-town charm, the town invites both locals and visitors alike to explore its many offerings. From its rich history, to museums, outdoor adventures, to the diverse culinary scene and plenty of Mother Road roadside attractions, Springfield has it all. In this issue, meet Megan Buchbinder, the heart and soul behind showcasing the spectacular things that Springfield has to offer.

What is the most memorable place you’ve visited in America? Emerald Isle, North Carolina. It’s a dream! Along Route 66? Springfield, Missouri, of course! What did you want to be when you grew up? A nurse or a teacher. Who has caused you to be starstruck? Idina Menzel at a festival I was working in Boone, NC! What characteristic do you respect the most in others? Honesty. Dislike in others? Large ego. What characteristic do you dislike in yourself? I can talk way too much. Talent that you WISH you had? I wish I spoke multiple languages. Best piece of advice you’ve ever received? It wasn’t directly to me, but Brene Brown said, “clear is kind” and I’ve tried to live by that. Best part about getting older? More self-contentment. What would the title of your memoir be? “Just add lipstick.” First music concert ever attended? N’SYNC — No Strings Attached Tour. What is your greatest extravagance? Does my child count? Most unexpected attraction in Springfield? If you’re unfamiliar with Springfield, then the first and largest Bass Pro Shops is always a must-see. And the caves in our community are definitely unique. If you’re looking for quirky, people always love to stop by the giant fork. It’s exactly as it sounds. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? Go easier on myself. What do you consider your greatest achievement? Personally, my son. Professionally, the success our team has had since COVID in bringing people to the Ozarks. Most memorable gift you were ever given? My husband gave me a bracelet when my son was born, and I have yet to take it off. What is the secret to a happy life? Finding joy and gratitude in every day, even the hard ones. What breaks your heart? Mistreatment of children and animals. What is the last TV show you binge watched?

Only Murders in the Building. What is your favorite song? How Long Will I Love You by Ellie Goulding. Who is your favorite musical artist? Adele. What is still on your bucket list? I want to go to every National Park in the United States. What do you wish you knew more about? I would love to know more about the process of writing a musical from start to finish. Best coffee shop in Springfield? Any of the ones on the Ozarks Coffee Trail, but if I HAD to pick, I’d go with Echelon. What is something you think everyone should do at least once in their lives? Jump out of a plane. It was the most freeing experience! What fad or trend do you hope comes back? I never want yoga pants to go out of style. First celebrity crush? Taylor Hanson. Ghost town or big city person? Big city. What does a perfect day look like to you? Waking up early, going on a run with my pup, maybe going to brunch with my family, hitting a trail in the Ozarks for a little hike, going to one of our local breweries or wineries in the afternoon for a beverage and then maybe take in a live performance at the Landers Theatre after a delicious dinner downtown. Which historical figure — alive or dead — would you most like to meet? Lin Manuel Miranda. What meal can you not live without? A Jersey Mike’s sub… probably #7. What makes you laugh? My family. All of them. They’re hysterical! What do you think is the most important life lesson for someone to learn? How to handle setbacks or things not going the way you planned. What is one thing you have always wanted to try, but have been too afraid to? Get a tattoo. What do you want to be remembered for? For being someone who stood up for what’s right and who loved her people fiercely.