Archive for April, 2010

The MeMe Tapes, Part II: Coming of Age

Saturday, April 24th, 2010

We are continuing with my mother’s story, as told to sister Bonnie and recorded in 1995. In Part I, Reatha finished 8th grade in Wibaux, Montana, in 1928. As they had every summer, Dan, Lillian, and the five girls traveled widely in the “Gospel Truck,” holding revival meetings throughout the Upper Midwest and the northern Rockies. Gospel TentBy this time, Dan had a new “Buddy Stewart” truck, which he fitted with the same primitive canvas canopy. That fall, weeks after the school term started, they settled in Miles City, where Reatha attended her freshman year of high school. Using the skills learned earlier in Dan’s “Praise Combo,” she played trumpet in the band. Miles City BandThe facade of the school was still recognizable on my visit there in 2003.High SchoolAfter another summer in the truck, holding meetings, and picking fruit (all the girls worked along with their parents), they settled for Reatha’s sophomore year in their westernmost locale, Ontario, Oregon. Ontario is a farming and mining community at the eastern edge of the state, across the Snake River from Payette, Idaho. Here is a rather blurry photo of Reatha’s Latin class.Latin Class

I think Mom is the in the center rear, with the wavy bangs. On the tapes, she spoke of a  “first boyfriend” named George Taylor. That may be the name of the “mystery boy” in the photo I posted in Dan Myers, part V.

For her junior year, their residence was in Marmarth, North Dakota. This fact was unknown to me until I listened to the tapes. Here is Reatha’s description of Marmarth, and of her trumpet solo at the high school junior banquet.Marmarth

Marmarth (population 140 in the 2000 census) is in the SW corner of North Dakota, on US highway 12 between Thunder Hawk and Miles City, in the midst of some spectacular badlands. Thiel and I were passing through on our 2003 “pilgrimage,” without knowing of any family connection, when I took this photo of the decrepit railway station.

Marmarth station

It had apparently been moved, as the railroad tracks were at least a quarter-mile away. The building had obviously seen better days (as had the town itself).

The next season (1931-32), which would have been Mom’s senior year, they returned to Thunder Hawk. Dan was employed to manage a farm near there while the owner (Karl Peterson) was visiting Sweden. Both Reatha and her sister Helen stayed out of school, because they “didn’t have enough money to graduate.”

Interestingly, nowhere on the tapes does Mother ever mention “The Depression.” As I pointed out in Dan’s story, poverty was the lifestyle of the Myers family long before the crash of 1929. Even the crop failures in the “dust bowl” years of the early 30′s are only a minor sidebar in her anecdotes.

During their stay in Thunder Hawk, Reatha worked as a live-in domestic for two consecutive families whose mother gave birth during her employment. The first family was the Petersons, for whom her father was also employed. The second was that of E.A. Mock, an acquaintance from their earlier residence there, and who later opened a long-standing car dealership in Eugene, Oregon. Another surprise to me was her dream of becoming an OB nurse. Although she did not say so, she must have been a close helper to the midwives on those two occasions, and perhaps others.

Next: Rejection

Stories From Old Norway (fiction)

Tuesday, April 20th, 2010

Since the “stats” indicate lots of new readers here, I encourage you, if you have not already done so, to check out my novel-in-progress. Its working title is, “Anna Hansdatter: Hunger In the Dale.” It is very loosely based on a few of the real people and events written of here. If you are already following it, disregard. I am suffering from a combination of  writer’s block, spring (gardening), a temporary full-time job, and other distractions, so am not putting up any new episodes for a while. However, there are already over 100 “episodes,” each approximately 1-2 pages of manuscript, available for your perusal. My “stats” over there are pitifully small so far, so do your part, and “read up.”

The MeMe Tapes, Part I: The Early Years

Saturday, April 17th, 2010

“A voice from beyond”

I have now reviewed and taken notes on the cassette tapes of Bonnie’s 1995 interviews with our mother, Reatha “Meme” Larson, née Myers (1914-2008). They were recorded on a road trip the two took together to find the grave of Reatha’s sister Leah Myers in Boulder, Montana. It took some considerable work to arrange the anecdotes in roughly chronological order, so as to present them in a coherent way. Besides the normal tendency to ramble and skip around, Mother’s dementia was already a significant factor, although none of us recognized it at the time. Nevertheless, her recollection of some events, even very early in her life, seem remarkably clear, and I believe to some extent reliable. Out of the several hours, I picked out a few one-minute excerpts to post in audio form, as a “voice from beyond.”  There is a lot of background noise, as the tapes were recorded in a vehicle at highway speed, but the voice and the words are quite recognizable.

Mom even related a story from before her own birth, told her no doubt by her mother, of how her parents met, in Frankfort, SD: Dan Myers drove a horse and wagon from farm to farm, peddling certain products, and butchering and plucking chickens, which he brought to the meat market in Frankfort. The proprietor of the market was William Drayer, father of Lillian Drayer (later Myers), Reatha’s mother. Here is part of the story in Mom’s own voice:1908 Dan

Dan and Lillian probably first met at the meat market. Reatha went on to describe the courtship. It seems that most of their dates involved roller skating, which was about the only pastime available in Frankfort.

Fast-forward to Reatha’s birth in 1914:  She was born in the living quarters at the rear of the general store and post office in Thunder Hawk, South Dakota, where Dan was the proprietor.

Thunder Hawk Store

Thunder Hawk Store

For the six-part story of Dan Myers, click here. By the time Reatha was three years old, the family moved from the rear of the store to a small house they built nearby. Around this time, her younger sister Velma was born. Dan’s parents, Stephen and Helen, came to help out, as Helen was a midwife. Stephen Helen MyersThis portrait must have been taken about then; Stephen died later that year. The earliest personal memory Mom related on the tapes was of their visit to Thunder Hawk. Here is her own narrative:1917 Stephen and Helen

In 1920, after Dan’s “conversion,” the family moved to Zion, Illinois, after spending part of the summer in Wisconsin. In Zion, Reatha attended first, second and third grade.  On Sundays, she went with her father to inner-city Chicago, where she sang hymns with him, and he preached, at a store-front Gospel mission. Then, in 1923, they set out in the “Gospel truck,” a primitive canvas “motor home” Dan had built from an old Model-T farm truck.

The Gospel Truck

I described some of these travels in “Dan Myers, Part III.” Here is Reatha’s story of that summer, including the well-known “apple box” anecdote:1923 Truck

Reatha attended fourth grade in Miles City, and the next four grades in Wibaux, Montana (about 50 miles south of Sidney). They traveled all summer, holding revival meetings across Montana and the Dakotas, then settled in a different rented house for a late start to each school year. As I told you in Dan’s story, they were extremely poor. Even so, meetings were sometimes held at their home, and Reatha played trumpet in Dan’s “praise band.”

The Band

The Band

Next: High School and Rejection

Patience

Saturday, April 10th, 2010

Thank you all for your patience. I am going through some cassette tapes of interviews with the late Reatha Larson (my mother), recorded by sister Bonnie (tusen takk) in 1995. There is a lot of good information there, also a lot of rambling and perhaps false memories. This is excellent material, enough for several fascinating posts, but it is taking some serious time. Furthermore, I am coming out of retirement to work on the 2010 US census. I feel a little bit of debt to this effort, as I have gleaned some important information from censuses long past, in several countries. I promise something substantial within the week. Please stay tuned.

Paternity Uncertainty

Monday, April 5th, 2010

As I hinted in the previous post, there is a question that has nagged at me ever since I learned that Ole Larson’s birth on Dec. 10, 1841 took place in Oslo Prison. The two court documents I now have in my possession, and the prison records summarized for me by an Oslo archivist, have done nothing to clarify the issue. With “cooling time” of 170 years and the passing of three or more generations, I hope it is not too indelicate to broach this question.

Here is the timeline: Anne and her companions allegedly committed their burglaries in March-April of 1840. Presumably, they were arrested between then and June 1 of that year, when the local magistrate sentenced Anne to 8 months in prison, and her two companions to lesser terms. Anne appealed her sentence, and it was upheld by the mid-level court in Oslo, the Stiftsoverret, on August 17 of the same year. The case was further appealed to the Høyesterret, or supreme court, also in Oslo, who also upheld the sentence, but not until April 23, 1841, more than 8 months later. The same day, Anne entered Oslo prison.

The nagging question: Where was Anne, and what was her status, during those intervening months? More specifically, in the weeks just prior to the Høyesterret order? It seems quite a stretch to assume not only that she did not attend the Stiftsoverret trial, but also that she was at home, free on bail or something of the sort, right up until leaving for Oslo (a journey of at least two weeks), just in time for the final session in Høyesterret. But that is the only scenario in which it is plausible that her husband, Lars Paulsen, was the baby’s father. If her pregnancy was full-term, Ole must have been conceived around March 10. If the birth was at all premature, which seems likely under such harsh conditions, conception would have been even later.

The unpleasant (one might even say, ugly) alternate scenario would be that Anne was the victim of sexual assault by a soldier, guard, or other official while in custody. That kind of violence probably occurred back then at least as often as it does today.

As disturbing as the thought is on a personal level, it has very little impact on my genealogical work per se. Of my eight great-grandparents, I have by far the least ancestry information for Ole; least of all for his putative father, Lars Paulsen. In fact, if my deduction is correct about Lars’ father, Paul Sveinsen Flaade, the line ends right there. Even if I am incorrect, and previous work holds up, the pedigree peters out just a few generations earlier. This situation is due to a fire that destroyed all the church records of Fron parish prior to about 1800. What information we do have comes from individual farm records collected by a historian of the region, which are hit-and-miss, to put it mildly.

Whether or not the missing facts ever come to light, this has to qualify as the “grandmother” of all “skeletons in the closet.”

Coming up: recollections of Reatha’s early life, from her own lips, with new details on Grandpa Isaac Larson.

Anne’s Crimes

Saturday, April 3rd, 2010

It has been a good many months since cousin Myrna (tusen takk, fetter) retrieved for me a certain court document from the Oslo regional archive, namely the sentence of the Stiftsoverret (something like a mid-level appeals court) against our great-great-grandmother, Anne Larsdatter Skurdalshaugen, dated 17 August, 1840. It was an extremely tough nut to crack. Here is a typical example of the handwriting:Stiftoverret sampleTo view the complete document, click here.

I finally asked a professional genealogist in Sweden to transcribe the handwriting into typewritten characters. At first she accepted the job; then when she looked more closely at it, changed her mind, saying it was too difficult. But I twisted her arm, promising to accept whatever partial transcription she could render. The result was very incomplete, but with the help of my friend Berit to translate, and by hours of comparing with the Høyesterret (Supreme Court) document I already had, we were able to make some sense out of most of it. I will not be posting it in much detail, as it mostly reiterates (or I should say “pre-iterates”) the general outline of the other sentence. You can view that complete document in its printed form, with a good translation, here.

Both of these courts simply affirmed the sentence originally imposed on Anne by the magistrate (Sorenskriver) of southern Gudbrandsdal, which document I have not yet located, if it even survives.

The Stiftsoverret does provide a clue as to why Anne’s case came to the higher courts, while those of her accomplices, Kari Olsdatter and Ole Engebretsen, did not. It says that Anne was sentenced to eight months in prison, while Kari got six months, and Ole only three. Apparently, that is why Anne appealed her sentence.

There is a more complete list of the items taken by the three thieves in their two (possibly three) nights of burglary; all measurements are approximate. Dollar amounts are in Specie dollar, roughly equivalent to U.S. dollars of the period:

>Some wool and/or woolen garments, value about $2, recovered.
>A dress, value $0.50, recovered.
>”small things,” value $0.08,  recovered.
>Butter, value $0.30, “other food;” compensation waived.
>”Some foodstuffs,” old shirts, 7 yards of burlap, and some yarn, value $1.50, recovered.
>1/2 measure(?) of herring, 1 bucketful of potatoes, 5 turnips (or cabbages), and one piece of pork (bacon or ham?), value altogether $0.50, compensation waived.

Total value of all items stolen by the three thieves: around $5. Of course this was 1840; in today’s dollars, maybe $100. Still, not a great fortune, and all of it food or clothing for hungry and impoverished families. Mind you, this came on the heels of four consecutive years of crop failures. According to historian Einar Hovdhaugen, people were grinding up birch bark and moss to make bread. The question comes to mind: were Anne’s deeds “crimes” in the sense of anti-social behavior, or were they desperate, instinctual efforts toward her family’s survival?

But as to the question simmering in my mind all these months, one of genealogy, neither of these two court documents offer any clue whatsoever.

Next: Who’s your daddy?