“She could ride her bicycle with one hand all right and she could even carry a malted milk in the other, but when Mona Kewin, 12, of 555 Seymour Ave., attempted to do both of these in the rain Monday she came to grief, according to a police report.”

So began a newspaper article describing an accident on a rainy day in May between a car turning a corner and a girl on her bike.

On Monday, May 11, 1936, V. Royce turned left from Ganson Street onto Elm Ave in Jackson, Michigan. He was probably on his way home to 311 N. Elm, located very close to the intersection.

That turn onto Elm Ave led to an accident with Mona Kewin, the twelve-year-old girl riding her bike, malted milk in hand.

Royce shared three specific details about the accident with the police. He said Mona “was knocked to the pavement” and “he took her to the hospital” after she “ran into the left front fender of his car.”

He said that she ran into him.

But was that what really happened?

Over sixty years later, Mona, the girl on the bike (and also my grandma), recounted her memory of the event in great detail when I interviewed her in 1997.

Read on to hear Grandma Mona’s point of view.²

[Note: Burt and Frankie are distant cousins on Grandma Mona’s maternal side that just happened to live a few blocks away in Jackson.]

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I’d borrowed Burt’s bike and we [Mona and Frankie] were going over to the drug store to get a malted milk.  We got the malted milk, and it started to rain. 

When we got back to Ganson Street, I pulled right up to the curb. I practically had a foot on the curb I was so close to it. I couldn’t actually have been that close, but I was where I was supposed to be.

This car coming around the corner practically cut the curb and so it hit me.  I went right up over the headlight. I think my knee broke the headlight. That was how I got the big cut on my leg. 

I remember waking up and I was over the headlights. The headlights then are much different than they are now. They stood out, and I was over the headlights, and I thought, “Oh no, my skirt’s up. Oh! Maybe they can see my underpants!” And then I passed out again. The next time I came to I was laying flat on the ground, because when he stopped, of course, I fell off.  

But I can still remember that, “What if they can see my underpants!” 

We went over to the doctor’s house and he wasn’t there, and they said, well, better go to the hospital, because Dr. Ludwick was actually our family doctor and they would get a hold of him. 

I had to go to the hospital and get my leg sewn up because the glass just about cut my leg in two. They put me asleep. 

It seems like it had to be the person who hit me never paid the cost of anything, though. We had to replace Burt’s bike, and the hospital bill. What would it be, like then it was $10, but $10 was hard to come by.  

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Grandma Mona distinctly remembered riding very close to the curb, and more importantly, that she was where she was supposed to be. She clearly placed the driver at fault.

Here we have two descriptions of the same event, told by actual eyewitnesses involved in the accident. They agree that Grandma Mona landed on the pavement and that she went to the hospital for treatment.

As far as who to blame, their points of view are complete opposites!

So, who do we believe? The man driving in the rain who likely did not want to be held liable for hitting and injuring a young girl? Or the girl who rode her bike, malted milk in hand, and had the lifelong scar as evidence of that traumatic event?

Even the author of the article did not take sides, noting that the events of the day “resulted in her [Mona] either being hit by or running into an automobile driven by V. Royce.”

There is no way to know for absolute certain what happened that day, but I am inclined to believe my Grandma, based on the evidence at hand.

(I admit I might be biased… but Grandma had a great memory and she told this story with confident gusto!)

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Let’s not forget poor Frankie, Grandma’s friend and cousin, who escaped harm but feared the worst.

Frankie had his own bike, but he made it across the street. 

They were telling me later that Frankie pulled up to the house and of course he was soaking wet. They wanted to know where I was, and he said, well I (Mona) would be right along, and I didn’t come, and I didn’t come, and they said, “Where is she?”   

Anyway, I didn’t come and didn’t come, and Frankie was pacing the floor and [Frankie’s mother] Bess said, “She’ll be here.  She’ll be all right.”  And Frankie said, “No, something’s happened to her or she’d be here by now. Oh, she can’t die, mama, I love her so!”

Bess said that she better get and start looking.  I don’t know if she had the car, because they didn’t have two cars; she probably walked, because that was what we did in those days.  

They came over to the corner where I got hit, and here was this bike with the front wheel just flattened, and the whole thing crumpled leaning against the trees. 

Frankie started to cry, and so Bess said, “Does anyone know what happened to the girl on the bike?” 

And someone said, “Well, yes, she was hit by a car, and took to the hospital.” 

 “Was she alive?” 

 “Yes, she was alive.”  

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And thank goodness for that! What a relief!

No matter what happened that day, cars cutting corners, particularly in the rain, are an acute danger to kids on bicycles… malted milk in hand or not!

One thing is certain: I am positive Grandma Mona would not be happy to hear V. Royce’s version of events or believe a word of it! Not one bit!

Like they say, “recollections may vary,” but I believe you, Grandma!

Since the newspaper is unlikely to print a retraction in her favor, this will have to do.

As for Grandma Mona?

That was an adventure, really. 

I wouldn’t want to go through it again.