For journalists it’s the best thing ever – to find a story within the story.
That’s what happened after rural Festus resident Glenn Kiepe came to the Leader office to deliver a 1948 photo of my mother, age 21, seated on a flatbed truck among a dozen or so other young folks, including Glenn himself, who was 13 or so.
The photo resonated with me. You see, my mom was wearing pants, and that pulled up a memory she’d shared with me about her young church days.
The Akins family, in which my mother was the sixth of nine children, lived near Bloomsdale and held membership at Lebanon Baptist Church.
But the kids also liked to sample nearby Methodist churches, especially for youth events.
Back then, both denominations prohibited smoking, drinking, playing cards and dancing, but Methodists had an additional rule: No pants for girls, not even for hayrides.
“Baptist girls could wear pants under those circumstances,” my mom said.
She probably had other reasons for being a lifelong Baptist, but that’s the one she told me.
Glenn, now 88, laughed at that story, and then filled in a lot of blanks about the photograph.
“During World War II and right after, the young people would get together on Sunday evenings at 6 p.m.,” he said. “It was a different age, pre-television, and in rural areas you really needed something to do.
“We had a circuit of three churches, Rush Tower and Danby (both Methodist) and Lebanon Baptist. The young people could run it (the Sunday get-together), so we’d appoint a leader and have songs, Bible readings and little testimonies. Flossie (my mother) was our leader a lot of times.”
Makes sense for a woman who would teach Sunday School for decades.
Glenn thinks the photo was taken before setting off for a road trip to Meramec Caverns.
“We threw a couple of bales of hay on that flatbed truck for a young people’s tour,” he said.
My then 15-year-old Aunt Mary is at the forefront, in an arresting chin-in-hand pose, next to her big sister, Flossie.
Mary’s future husband, Jim Harman, is there, too, as well as his sister, Ethel. She married my Uncle Joel, who stands next to his good friend Glenn Kiepe, at the far left.
Of the bunch I’ve named, only Glenn and Ethel are still here in 2022.
Glenn reports he was brought up Methodist, and, like my mom, has stuck to his lane throughout his long life. But he says he didn’t pay attention to religious labels back then and still doesn’t.
“It is the same God,” he said. “When Christianity was formed, there weren’t different denominations. You just need to keep your eyes on Jesus.”
That belief would be tested after a stint in the Air Force, when Glenn returned home to meet future wife Mary Jane on a blind date – a story within the story.
They quickly fell head over heels, but Mary Jane was Catholic and wanted to remain so. Glenn, the son of a Methodist Sunday School superintendent and church pianist, was equally planted.
“We never let theology stand in our way,” Glenn said.
It was just labels, after all.
Their five children, four daughters and a son, went to church with Mom mostly, but sometimes with Dad.
“They liked Sunday school,” Glenn said.
Husband and wife attended services together from time to time, at one church or the other.
I thought I had everything I needed to write a column about coping graciously with denominational differences within both a friend group and a family.
But then I realized I had not asked Glenn an important question. The follow-up delivered another story within the story.
Given their two-denomination family, how did the older Kiepes cope after the great tragedy of their lives, when their son, Navy pilot Lt. Kent M. Kiepe, died on Feb. 26, 1992, during a flight in California to evaluate Navy fighter aircraft?
Right before Veterans Day and 30 years after his loss, it seemed an auspicious time to ask about Kent, who had flown missions into Iraq during the Persian Gulf War and won many accolades in his seven years in military service. The Jefferson R-7 School District has named a gymnasium after him, he is a member of the Festus R-6 Hall of Fame and scholarships are dedicated to his memory here and elsewhere.
Glenn said his son had been attending a Baptist church in California, and the family flew there for a memorial service. At home, another funeral service was held at Mary Jane’s church, Sacred Heart in Festus-Crystal City, and the couple received loving grief support from several local ministers.
Glenn singled out Baptist Pastor Mike Goodwin and his wife, Gail, for their help during that searing time.
“They consoled us with good words from scriptures. They came back to the house several nights,” Glenn said.
So, a multi-denominational effort lifted up the Kiepe family.
Kent fit the mold. He attended both of his parents’ churches while growing up and that Baptist church in California, “but he still had Catholic on the dog tags he wore around his neck,” Glenn said.
He proudly notes that the couple’s four surviving children, 15 grandchildren and 28 great-grandchildren are church attenders, of all different flavors.
It’s just labels, after all.
“It’s something we have to put up with during this life,” Glenn said. “Probably the good Lord is amazed at how polarized we can get.
“There are different ways to get where we’re going, but we’ll all arrive safely in the same place.”
