My grandmother, a fierce woman barely over five feet tall with fiery red hair, was a newlywed living in the Bronx in the early 1900s. Her family's motto was "Fierce" When Roused,' and it turned out to be incredibly fitting. One day, she heard her upstairs neighbor crying. It turned out the woman's husband regularly came home drunk and beat her. Now, my grandfather was a huge guy, but Grandma didn't need his help. She told the neighbor to leave her door unlocked and stamp on the floor the next time he started. The stomp came. My grandmother, broom in hand, burst into the apartment. She beat that drunken husband until he hid under the bed, begging for mercy. Every time he dared to peek out, she'd hit him again. In a full-blown fury, she laid down the law: if she ever had to come back, she'd beat him twice as hard. "And," she added, "I'll go to your bar and tell every man there a woman beat you until you crawled under the bed!" She never had to return. It's wild to think she was also a polite, educated lady from Victorian times. But for her family, violence against women was an absolute line in the sand. She showed him. *** It's funny how we often picture Victorian ladies as delicate flowers. Yet, if you look at women's magazines from that very time, building up upper body strength by swinging Indian clubs was a popular recreation for women. Go grandma..go!! #FamilyStories #GrandmaStories #TrueStory #VictorianEra #FamilyHistory