remembering one of the many stories my grandmother Dagmar shared with me
In 1929 my grandmother Dagmar returned to Norway with her two young children, Arnold 4 yrs old and my mother Grace who was 2 yrs old. They stayed in the home of her parents, my great grandparents Nils and Gunhild Gundersen in Skien, Telemark, Norway. Dagmar was lonely for Norway and she wanted Arnold and Grace to have a chance to get to know their grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins.
In the street in front of the family home the village was laying sewer pipes and large trenches ran up and down the length of the street. Little Grace, playing with her cousins, tumbled into one of those trenches. Her uncle Rolf, not much more than a boy himself pulled her out. Luckily she did not get seriously hurt but did get a cut across the top of her head. It did not seem to be anything significant.
Less than a week later Dagmar, Arnold and Grace were on the "Stavangerfjord" headed out to sea, bound for New York harbor and home. Perhaps some dirt had gotten into the cut because now it appeared infected, yellow pus oozed through the little girls curls, and she complained of pain. Dagmar took her to the boats doctor. Grace screamed and cried and would not hold still for the man. The doctor was impatient and rude. "If these stupid immigrants can't keep their children clean and teach them to behave its not my problem". She was in pain, spoke no English and after all she was only 2 years old! He brushed them away. Dagmar said she hurried the kids back to their cabin. She was so very afraid. She assumed they would be inspected before being allowed in America as she had been when she first came. The children were born in America but she was not. What if they sent them back to Norway? Her husband was in America waiting. What would they do?
As they neared New York Dagmar hid a rag among Grace's curls and covered her head with a scarf. She told her "do not take off the scarf no matter what" and "don't tell anyone and for sure do not cry". Grace, scared also, did as she was told. The same doctor did only a cursory exam of those who traveled in cabins. They held their breath but the scarf never came off and the pompous self-satisfied American doctor did not even seem to recognize them from their earlier visit.
Pa met them in New York and they continued home to Chicago. The cut healed and Grace forever had a scar about the size of a dime on the back of her head where hair refused to grow.
As my grandmother was telling me this story, some sixty years later, I could hear in her voice the remembrance of her fear, Her fear for her little girl's safety and her panic that they would not be allowed into America.
At first I couldn't believe a doctor could be so unprofessional. I was a nurse and felt I would never have been like that to that scared little blond girl who spoke no English. But then I remembered the many times I had more work than I had time to do, dealing with seemingly uncooperative foreigners, who spoke no English and dressed in ways I would consider "funny" or "dirty". I had heard lots of disparaging remarks made by "professionals" referring to the immigrants of today. On those overworked and tiring shifts at the hospital. Did I? Have I? I was ashamed.
In the street in front of the family home the village was laying sewer pipes and large trenches ran up and down the length of the street. Little Grace, playing with her cousins, tumbled into one of those trenches. Her uncle Rolf, not much more than a boy himself pulled her out. Luckily she did not get seriously hurt but did get a cut across the top of her head. It did not seem to be anything significant.
Less than a week later Dagmar, Arnold and Grace were on the "Stavangerfjord" headed out to sea, bound for New York harbor and home. Perhaps some dirt had gotten into the cut because now it appeared infected, yellow pus oozed through the little girls curls, and she complained of pain. Dagmar took her to the boats doctor. Grace screamed and cried and would not hold still for the man. The doctor was impatient and rude. "If these stupid immigrants can't keep their children clean and teach them to behave its not my problem". She was in pain, spoke no English and after all she was only 2 years old! He brushed them away. Dagmar said she hurried the kids back to their cabin. She was so very afraid. She assumed they would be inspected before being allowed in America as she had been when she first came. The children were born in America but she was not. What if they sent them back to Norway? Her husband was in America waiting. What would they do?
As they neared New York Dagmar hid a rag among Grace's curls and covered her head with a scarf. She told her "do not take off the scarf no matter what" and "don't tell anyone and for sure do not cry". Grace, scared also, did as she was told. The same doctor did only a cursory exam of those who traveled in cabins. They held their breath but the scarf never came off and the pompous self-satisfied American doctor did not even seem to recognize them from their earlier visit.
Pa met them in New York and they continued home to Chicago. The cut healed and Grace forever had a scar about the size of a dime on the back of her head where hair refused to grow.
As my grandmother was telling me this story, some sixty years later, I could hear in her voice the remembrance of her fear, Her fear for her little girl's safety and her panic that they would not be allowed into America.
At first I couldn't believe a doctor could be so unprofessional. I was a nurse and felt I would never have been like that to that scared little blond girl who spoke no English. But then I remembered the many times I had more work than I had time to do, dealing with seemingly uncooperative foreigners, who spoke no English and dressed in ways I would consider "funny" or "dirty". I had heard lots of disparaging remarks made by "professionals" referring to the immigrants of today. On those overworked and tiring shifts at the hospital. Did I? Have I? I was ashamed.
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| Grace Gunhild Sevaldsen - back in Chicago |
(click on photos to enlarge for easier viewing)
