National Ellis Island Family HIstory Day

Today, April 17 has been designated as National Ellis Island Family History Day.

In 1890 then president Benjamin Harrison designated Ellis Island as the first Federal Immigration station. From 1892 to 1954, over twelve million immigrants entered the United States through the portal of Ellis Island, including some of our Swedish ancestors.

CLICK HERE  to view the history of Ellis Island and 

see how our immigrant ancestors entered their new life in the United States

Pop's Place

Our family summer vacations tended to be camping or visiting other family members. We never got much farther than a state away from Chicago. One place I remember distinctly was Pop's Place. It was a small resort in the Wisconsin Dells. Individual cabins sans air conditioning on a small beach. With inflatable inner tubes around our waists Dad would lift us up and throw us in the water or we would go down the big slide into the water.

kids all geared up to fight "injuns"

The late fifties and early sixties were definitely the pre-politically correct era. We would go into the Dells for stores that sold taffy and fudge and where you saw, and of course could buy, all sorts of "Real, Original, Savage Indian Memorabilia". Stores offered feather headdresses, drums, rubber spears and moccasins. We went to shows to see Native Americas in "authentic" full war gear and war paint dance around us in their buckskins. Every little boy wanted a Davey Crockett coonskin cap and even the girls could get a cowboy hat and pair of child size six shooters (cap guns) to pretend we were shooting "Injuns". Wow, that was a time and place far far away. 

We also would go to the large Wisconsin Dells garbage dump where from your car you watched the bears fight over the open garbage. That was a thrill not to be missed. My favorite place was "Storybook Land", a park with fairy tale houses and small childrens rides. Pee Wee golf was another favorite as was riding the Wisconsin Ducks, old WWII amphibious vehicles that toured the Wisconsin river and beautiful Dells scenery.  That was about the extent of the Dells at the time. The fancy, high tech amusement and hugh water parks did not come to the Wisconsin Dells until much later. 

To a city kid, staying at Pop's Place was the big time. Who could ask for anything more?

Dad and we kids at Pop's Place in the early 1960's

Mom and her cats

My Mom was not a typical "crazy cat lady". I don't think she ever had more than one cat at a time. I don't think she ever went looking for cats either. It just seemed that pitiful cats gravitated to her, sensing that she was too kindhearted to turn them away. Mainly sick, hungry flea bitten strays found their way to Mom's door. I remember her washing out gross oozy gunk from the eyes of a kitty. She once pulled over on the expressway because she saw a cat peeking out of a cardboard box on the side of the road. It seems they disappeared just as quickly as they showed up. Feral Cats most likely, who after a good meal and a bath chose to hit the road again. I hated those cats. In our apartment they hid under the dining room table jumping out to bite me in the feet as I passed. I fell asleep some nights tightly holding my covers down as it seemed they chose me to climb under my blankets and sleep with. Why Me? Mom thought maybe because they were independent spirits and did not like the younger kids pulling, petting and carrying them around. So they came to me? She must have got confused with the number of cats because she named almost all of them Susie. Susie #1, Susie #2, Susie #3 and so on. 

My Dad had spent a little time on a farm and had a very different feeling about pets. He felt they did not belong in the house, period. I'm sure he was the one responsible for occasionally "accidentally" opening the screen door and "accidentally" letting one of the Susies out. I remember Mom once convinced my Dad to go the vet with one of the Susies. He just sat with this confused and disgusted look on his face viewing all these folks with their assortment of  animals that they stroked and cooed to. The receptionist came out and called "Susie Kallman, Susie Kallman, you're next". My Dad flipped out,. "This animal is NOT my child do NOT call her Susie Kallman."

Mom with one of her Susies

Only one cat lasted more than a short while. Perhaps Mom broke the losing streak by giving it a name other than Susie. She named him Tico, which was the name of one of our aunts boyfriends. Why? we will never know. I just know that my little brother, then about 4 or 5 adored that fat cat and carried him around the house constantly. Tico didn't seem to mind.

I have never owned a cat (and never will) but both of my sisters are cat people. In fact I am allergic to most cats.......very allergic. I guess it worked to my favor that I never liked them, so refused to handle them and none stayed long enough to start me sniffling. But thinking of all those Susie's now and again does remind me of what a dear kind-hearted mother I once had.

Death of Hanna Matea Gunuldsdatter

Eidanger, Telemark, Norway
This parish page records the death of my second great grandmother Hanna Matea Gunuldsdatter. In the mother to daughter to daughter to daughter link, it was she who passed unto me the mitochondrial haplotype V1. The haplotype that my daughter and grand daughter now carry.
Hanna Matea was born 22 August 1848 in Eidanger. She and my second great grandfather Ole Helleksen had nine children. Gunhild Marie Olsdatter, their third child, was my great grandmother.
Hanna Matea died 3 November 1902. She was 54 years old. Her cause of death was "tæring" or Tuberculosis, a very common cause of death before the advent of antibiotics and still a major illness in the third world. Many, many of my ancestors succumbed to Tuberculosis, some of them much younger than Hanna Matea.

Eidanger, Telemark, Norway deaths 1902

Hanna Matea Gunuldsdatter→Gunhild Marie Olsdatter→Dagmar Gundersen→Grace Sevald→ME

my Great Great Grandmother

Hanna Matea Gunuldsdatter

b. 22 Aug 1848 Eidanger, Telemark, Norway

d. 03 Nov 1902 Eidanger, Telemark, Norway

**click on document to enlarge for easier viewing**
**click HERE to see the document on the Digitalarkivet**

Norwegian Sweaters

My grandmother Dagmar was very talented at knitting and crochet. I still own an afghan than she made for us shortly after we married. Not a dropped stitch. My granddaughters also play with a dolly afghan that their great great grandmother made for my daughter when she was their age. Grandma's true passion however was knitting. Anytime she sat down those needles would be clicking furiously. She could be watching television or talking but she never slowed her pace, never missed her always even stitches. Her item of choice was the traditional Norwegian Sweater. You know the type, they sell them at the Norway Pavilion at Disney World (for an unbelievable sum of money).  All the older gals can be seen wearing one at the "Sons of Norway Lodge" or Syttende Mai (May 17th, Norwegian Constitution Day) festivities in some of the Midwestern States where their Norwegian immigrant ancestors found their new homes as Americans. Grandma's works were traditionally designed, perfectly executed and truly more beautiful than any store-bought version today. In fact, after making sure each of her family had a current version she knit sweaters which were sold at Marshall Field ( a now defunct high-end Chicago department store). She did all the traditional Scandinavian designs, snowflakes, reindeer, etc., in many colors but mainly the traditional red, white, blue and black combinations. I am ashamed to say now that I HATED THOSE SWEATERS.  We each periodically got a new sweater when we outgrew the old and wore them as you would wear a light jacket. Spring and fall we wore our Norwegian Sweaters. Look at the photos below. My mother is wearing hers at the beach. AT THE BEACH! What is that all about? 

Me, my brother, my sister and Mom, in sweaters made with love by Grandma.

I hated those sweaters and to my young eyes felt it made me look like a foreigner. Back in the day parents did not drive their kids the three or four blocks to school, or even accompany them for that matter. When I was in the third and fourth grade I would now and again, after leaving home, take off my sweater and stuff it under a  bush at the Grossinger's house, down the block. On the way home I would dig it out and put it back on. I don't believe Mrs. Grossinger ever told on me either, although she surely noticed. Better to be cold than have the world think you were "off the boat".

When I visited my grandmother, in my thirties, she insisted on teaching me the skill of the Norwegian sweater. I did have a bit more appreciation for them but mainly I wanted to please the grandma I loved. Although I fumbled through (she fixed my too tight stitches and errors) and produced sweaters for my two kids, if I was honest I have to say they were not near the quality of Grandma's and I just found no pleasure in the process. It doesn't help that to this day my now grown kids laugh at those sweaters and the photo I had taken of them in those sweaters to send home to grandma.

Don't care what THEY say, I think they look cute

I am turning 65 this month. I can't deny any longer that I am a sentimental senior just like the old gals at the "Sons of Norway" lodge. I long for one of her sweaters now, itching my neck and warming these old bones. This summer my hubby and I are taking a couple of our grandkids to Disney World so I guess I could pick up one at the Norway pavilion at Epcot Center. I have also seen them online and I could afford it if I really wanted to. But I don't.

It wouldn't have been made by Grandma.