HILDE ON THE RECORD: MEMOIR OF A KID CRIME REPORTER Excerpt

April 19, 2022 | By | Reply More

Hilde Kate Lysiak, American journalist and founder of the Orange Street News, has been profiled by the New York Times, Columbia Journalism Review, NBC Today, the Washington Post and more. She’s interviewed former First Lady Michelle Obama for The National, is the youngest member of the Society of Professional Journalists, has a six-book series with Scholastic and is the inspiration behind AppleTV+ mystery series Home Before Dark. Oh yes… and she’s only 15.

She’s brazenly shared news stories with the world since she was only seven, and now she’s putting the spotlight on herself in a poignant, coming of age story Hilde on the Record: Memoir of a Kid Crime Reporter (Apr 19, 2022; Chicago Review Press). So many of the chapters feature discussions with Hilde and her mother and father Matthew Lysiak, best known for his investigative reporting for the New York Daily News and comprehensive account of the Sandy Hook tragedy, Newtown: An American Tragedy. They breach topics in a way that’s easy for both tweens to understand, and will provide helpful resources for parents of middle grade readers.

We are delighted to feature this excerpt of HILDE ON THE RECORD

CHAPTER 19: THE LAST

DO YOU EVER WISH you knew when something was the last? The last time you would want to play with your favorite childhood toy, the last time your older sibling would think you were cool, the last time you would have to ride in the booster seat in the back of your parents’ car. . . . Almost every day something happens that will never happen again, without our knowing. Usually, these things aren’t a huge deal, but when you look back, you might wish you had appreciated that time a little more.

The last Christmas with my Grammie and Grandpa was different. Even though no one really knew it would be the last, it had a feeling of special importance that everyone appreciated. The day was magical. The warm glow of the Christmas tree seemed to also live somewhere inside me. We had already opened our presents at our house that morning, but my sisters and I had the excitement of Grammie and Grandpa’s gift ahead of us. We sat in the living room—my family, both my uncles and their wives, my three cousins, and Grammie and Grandpa. Even though Grandpa was very thin and weak, it seemed like everyone’s worries were on hold, as even he was able to sit in his chair next to the tree while we all opened our gifts. I almost fell out of my seat when I unwrapped the deluxe Barbie mall I had given up hope on getting.

My Grammie had the most beautiful drinking glasses that had been passed down to her from her relatives in Italy. Some were blue and some were red, and they were hand‐painted with little flowers and dipped in real gold. She only used them on Christmas. While everyone admired them, I think I loved them the most. Because they were so delicate, the young children did not get to use them. This Christmas, though, after we opened gifts, Grammie called me into the kitchen. I watched as she poured sparkling grape juice into one of the beautiful blue cups and handed it to me as we all made our way to the dining table.

Just when I thought there was no more room in my stomach, Grammie would bring out another big plate of food. It was hard work trying to save space for the many desserts that would follow, but I somehow managed. Everyone was in a festive mood, laughing and joking, and telling stories about when my dad and his brothers were young. When we left to go see my Mimi and Pop-Pop later in the day, I felt so grateful for having such a big, wonderful family.

The week after Christmas is the one time my parents let the house stay messy with our toys. Usually, they are on us about keeping things tidy and put away where they belong. But, for this one week, all our new toys we got as presents can be scattered all over the living room. I spent that week playing and putting the finishing touches on the next issue of the Orange Street News.

Still thinking about how dangerous some of my neighbors seemed to think our town was, I decided to interview a Selinsgrove police officer to get the real story. (Spoiler alert: it was really safe!) I also decided to begin including a short fiction story that I wrote in each issue. I had so much fun making up a tale of haunted dolls in an attic. My “Message from Hilde” was about New Year’s resolutions. Mine were morning bike rides on the weekends, creating new holidays, and watching my baby sister, Juliet, grow and play (maybe I wasn’t such a jerk after all!). When it was time to return to school on Monday, January 5, I felt like I’d had the best Christmas break of my life.

When I got home from school, my mom had just gotten back from coffee with my Grammie. Again, my parents greeted me with enthusiasm, but I could tell something was off. I had my snack and decided to go up to my bedroom.

On my way up the stairs, I overheard my parents talking. “I mean, she’s under so much stress, Matt. They need to get some answers. Clearly, something is wrong with him,” my mom said.

“You know my mom is always stressing about something. She’ll be all right. Once they get the results of the scan tomorrow, we can figure out what to do. I think she’ll feel better when they have a plan,” my dad responded.

“I hope so. She was just so upset today, Matt. I mean she really didn’t seem good at all.”

The next day when I left for school, I knew that my Grammie would be taking my Grandpa to have a PET scan. This is a type of test where they inject dye into a person and then basically take pictures of his tissues and organs to see how they are functioning. My Grandpa was having this test to see if his cancer was back. Everyone was really nervous, hoping for the best while preparing for the worst.

When I came home from school that day, my mom was rushing around frantically, trying to get baby Juliet changed and into her car seat.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Grammie’s been in an accident, Hilds. Dad and Izzy are already there, but we need to hurry. She’s at the hospital. I don’t know any more than that. Dad’s trying to find out what’s going on now.” 

Tags: ,

Category: Contemporary Women Writers, On Writing

Leave a Reply