Mommy in Norway - 1947

 

My Mom, Grace Sevald, 19 years old, posing for the camera on a joyous trip to Norway to visit family. This trip was particularly joyous as our American family had not heard from their Norwegian family in years.  Norway had been occupied by Germany in WWII. Luckily they discovered all of their family had survived the Nazi occupation unharmed.

Half a century now - My Mother is gone

It seems so long ago, yet like yesterday. My Mom died 50 years ago today.  I am now 25 years older than Mom was when she died. Unlike me, she never had the aches, pain and losses of old age. but never the joys of getting older either. She missed out on lots. But in my opinion the greatest joy? She never lived to know her grandchildren and great grandchildren.

My Mother
Grace Gunhild Sevald Kallman
b. March 4, 1927 Chicago, Illinois
d. April 21, 1975 Park Ridge, Illinois

    The greatest tragedy? They never knew her.

1950 US Census - Mel and Grace Kallman in Chicago, Illinois

My parents were married in 1949 and in this census I find them as a young married couple. And me? I was their firstborn but in 1950 I was not even yet "a twinkle in my father's eye".

Chicago, Cook, Illinois 

822 N. Lavergne 2nd floor apartment

line 5: Kallman, Melvin, head of household, white, male, 33, born in Illinois, married, worked 40 hours last week as a floor sander for a retail department store

line 6: Kallman, Grace, wife, white, female, 23, married, born in Illinois

  Hardly a pair of fashionistas were they? 

  Dad, really? socks and shoes on the beach?

      Love you both,

Love the hat - Grace Sevald

Here is my Mom in the late 1940's, Chicago, Illinois. She is about 18 to 20 years old. I just love this pic, so "forties". People dressed so much nicer and so less casually then than now. I especially love the hat!

My Mom

Grace Gunhild (Sevald) Kallman

1927-1975

**click on photos to enlarge for easier viewing**

School Days in Chicago

 

Chicago Public School - Mozart School

Mozart school is located in the Humboldt Park area of Chicago. I am guessing  this picture to have been taken about 1938. The area at the time was heavily Norwegian and it is a good bet that many of the children in this photo were second or third generation Norwegian/American. These kids have known nothing but the "Great Depression" so perhaps their smiles belied the harsh reality of life. 

Here is a close-up of my Mom, Grace Sevald. She remembered that she entered kindergarten speaking only Norwegian and she told her mother "they talk funny at this school".  She picked up English quickly.

1947 Trip to Norway

Grace poses on the deck of the Stavangerfjord. I love seeing the old New York skyline in the distance in photo number one and Grace posing on the steps leading up to the "first class only" deck. Didn't fool me Mom, I know you traveled second class!

1947 - It has been two years since the end of WWII and the liberation of Norway. During the war the American Sevald family had no word of the fate of their family in Nazi occupied Norway. All survived the war but Dagmar's younger brother had recently died of leukemia. Arnold Sevald spent WWII in the Navy and also survived the war.

They sail on the Stavangerfjord to visit family. This is the last time they will travel together back to Norway as a family group. Grandma Dagmar told me she longed to stay in Norway. She suggested that to Arnold and Grace. Their reply? "We're Americans Mom, we're going home".

**click on photos to enlarge for easier viewing**

Grace Gunhild Sevald 1927-1975

Today is the date of my mother's birthday. 

Here is one of my most favorite photos of her. Taken in Chicago, deep into the Great Depression,
in her worn looking dress, there she stands with her hand on her hip, slight scowl on her face.
 I imagine her thinking, "so hurry up and take the picture can't you see dolly and I are busy?" 

My mother

Grace Gunhild (Sevald) Kallman

b. 4 Mar 1927 Chicago, Cook, Illinois, USA

d. 21 Apr 1975 Park Ridge, Cook, Illinois, USA

**click on photos to enlarge for easier viewing**

Happy Birthday Mom

Grace was "Pa's Girl"

This photo was given to me by a second cousin in Norway. A photo of my mother Grace and my grandfather Paul in Chicago. I am guessing my mom to be about 10 or 12 which would date this photo to the late 1930's, during the "Great Depression".  I know my grandparents struggled economically during those years as did most Americans. This photo shows my grandfather as who he was and his relationship with his only daughter, my mother Grace. Often he was without work during those years and he was a machinist by trade yet he dressed impeccably. That trademark hat was always on his head. A full suit with tie and vest and although it wouldn't show in this pic I can bet the farm that he had sock suspenders and cufflinks on! A classy guy. And he loved, adored and was closest to his daughter, my mom Grace. My grandfather always had my mom by his side. He made sure she had all that she needed. I think my grandmother was a bit jealous of their closeness. 

my grandfather

Paul Skoglund Sevald

b. 24 Aug 1894 Kragerø, Telemark, Norway

d. 5 Sep 1971 Chicago, Cook, Illinois

my mother

Grace Gunhild Sevald

b. 4 Mar 1927 Chicago, Cook, Illinois

d. 21 Apr 1975 Park Ridge, Cook, Illinois

The war in Vietnam and Mom's gift

For those of us labeled "baby Boomers" (those born 1945-1960) the war in Vietnam is probably the most pivotal, important and disastrous event that defined us as a generation. It also forever defined for me the woman that my mother was.

Mom was a devout Christian and patriotic American. She belonged to a Republican womans group. As a member of "The Greatest Generation" her husband, brother and contemporaries had willingly gone to war to fight for their country and the liberation of Europe during World War II. She told me stories of how she, working as a secretary in New York, spent lunch hours with other girls at the train station passing out sandwiches and encouragement to young soldiers on the troop trains heading off to war. She was ultra conservative and a true believer of "my country right or wrong". Your country called? You went.

The war in Vietnam dragged on and on. This was also the first war that came to you on television in close to real time. By the late sixties we no longer just saw Father knows Best or I Love Lucy. We saw burning villages, burning people and scores of body bags. And why? Many of us just were not so sure anymore. The questions became arguments. The arguments became protests. The protests and demonstrations became larger, more vocal, more violent. 

 Local draft boards made the decisions on classifying the young men. Deferments were given to those going to college or those that were married or the sons of local politicians and friends. The inequities were obvious. The rich almost exclusively did not go to war. The minorities, poor, working class and middle class alone were called to duty. Some boys arrested for minor crimes were given the option of a stiff sentence or enlisting. Add to that; a boy could be drafted and die at 18 but he could not vote or even marry without the consent of one of his parents until the age of 21. The average age of the soldier in Vietnam was 19. In the mid sixties President Lyndon Johnson was sending hugh numbers of ground troups.  In 1969 most of the deferments ended and a draft lottery began.  There were still lots of inequities.

December 1, 1969; 366 blue capsules containing each day in the year were mixed and drawn in order. The first capsule drawn was September 14. If you were a male between the age of 19 and 26 and born on that day you were the first to be called for induction. The plan was that each year a similar lottery would take place for those who would be inducted the following year.* 

In 1970 I graduated from high school. My boyfriend had graduated the year before. It was his turn in the lottery. In the first lottery, which contained many more young men that this lottery would, numbers up to 195 were called in for physicals. He drew number 159. His mother cried. Two other friends were given numbers 2 and 3. They wasted no time enlisting in the Navy and Marines, hoping they could at least avoid being one of the ground troops.

The war in Vietnam totally changed our generation. Many older Americans also became more suspicious and cynical about the workings of government. Many young men became objectors some even leaving for Canada or Mexico. Initially they were referred to as "draft dodgers" but soon many parents also did not want to "be the first one on your block to have your son come home in a box"**.

My boyfriend who was from a poor immigrant family did not even have that option. In summer he was called in for his physical. They classified him 1-A.

I know it seems this story is mainly about the Vietnam years of my life, and it is, but I don't wish to be preaching pro or con. History will sort all that out.  I have the highest regard for those that gave service to our country and will also pay honor to the 56,000 young men that gave their all. The purpose of this story however is to tell you about my mother.

Mom came to me one evening and spoke to me alone.

"Ranae, you know the file cabinet next to Dad's desk? Halfway back is a folder. In there Is some money and a piece of paper. On that paper is the name and address of a cousin of mine in Canada. It is not right that so many do not have the same choices. If he wants to go, you give that to him, my cousin will help him." and then she added.."if you feel you have to go with him maybe it's better if I don't know. You are my daughter and I might try to stop you."  I nodded but said nothing. We never spoke of it again.

Richard Nixon promised in his 1968 campaign for president to end the draft. On June 30th 1971 the draft law expired so there were no calls or inductions in July, August or September, Nixon, hoping to win support for the war from the middle class went back on his word and on September 28, 1971 signed the bill extending the draft.*** Officials hoped the inductions would resume as soon as October but admitted most likely the number of calls for the year would be low. 125 was the highest number called. 

I never looked for that folder until after my Mom's death in 1975. It was not there. I really don't know if my boyfriend would even have left but I will love my Mom forever for giving him the choice.

The boyfriend is now my husband of 44 years and to this day he says that his favorite president will always be "Tricky Dick" whose campaign "promise" kept him out of Vietnam.

* The Selective Service System

** Country Joe McDonald: I-Feel-Like-I'm-Fixin-to-Die rag

*** Chicago Tribune Sep 29th 1971: Nixon signs the draft bill

Uncle Arnold saves Thanksgiving

My mom died in the spring of 1975. That Thanksgiving my Dad thought he would do Thanksgiving as we always had done. He invited my Uncle Arnold who was my Mom's divorced brother and my husband and myself. I had been married maybe two years at this time. I have to give my Dad credit that he was trying to keep the holidays the happy festive family time they always had been. He was going to do Thanksgiving for us all, all by himself.

It should be noted that my Dad came from a different time and place than men do now, He brought home the paycheck and my Mom took care of all the household duties. Their husband/wife division of duties was very clear cut and very traditional. When my Mom passed my Dad had no clue how to even boil water. I gave him a recipe for stovetop chili. My Uncle Arnold lived in Dallas Texas but his ex wife and kids were in Minnesota so between places he would often swing by our house. He told me once "please teach that man another dish!. All he eats is chili. The pot stays on the stove constantly and he just keeps adding more stuff to it! If I never again have chili it will be too soon!"

Thanksgiving was a good 6 months after Mom's death and Dad seemed so proud and confident of his abilities. "I don't need any help he said proudly." As we arrived I saw potatoes and veggies simmering on the stove, buns and stuffing ready to go into the oven. Pretty impressive for a guy who half a year ago had no clue how to turn on the burners. "I don't smell the turkey yet" said my Uncle Arnold who snuck a peek into the oven. "Mel,,,,this turkey is raw! How long have you been cooking it?"  "20 minutes" said my Dad confidently, "just like the instructions said." Uncle Arnold just looked at him incredulously, "20 minutes a pound is what it said and this turkey must weigh 18 to 20 pounds!".

Well, Uncle Arnold put the veggies on hold and reset the oven. We had our Thanksgiving later than expected but we all had a good time laughing over Dad's cooking ability and reminiscing about all the great family Thanksgivings we had in the past with Mom and those future holidays which may be different but also promised to be good in their own way.

1973 Mom and her brother, My Uncle Arnold

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.

Grace Gunhild Sevald Kallman 1927-1975

My mom died young. Way too young.  Mom never had any grandchildren. A real pity, especially for those kids because she would have been a wonderful grandmother. She would have seven grandchildren and one step grandchild, 19 great grandchildren and 5 step grandchildren. One of the greatest joys of my life has been my grandchildren and until I had them I guess I never really knew how much my Mom had missed out. The greatest loss however was to those kids. She would have loved them so much. Knowing and loving my grandma and being a grandma myself I can tell you that no one loves, accepts and understands you like your grandmother does. I hate it that my kids never had that opportunity to have a special relationship with my Mom.

Today she would have been 90 years old. Happy Birthday Mom! We, your children remember you with love and pass your love on.

Grace Gunhild Sevald Kallman

b. 4 March 1927 Chicago, Illinois

d,  21 April 1975 Park Ridge, Illinois

My childhood home

My childhood home
I never lived in a single family home until after I was married. My Dad owned our home but it was a two flat or three flat. With the income from the other apartments it was easier to pay the mortgage, maybe we even lived technically rent free. Saving a dollar was always a priority for my Dad, probably from living through the Great Depression.

My parents bought our first home when I was 1 year old.  It was a wood frame two flat with asphalt shingles in a working class, north side, Chicago neighborhood. We lived in the second floor apartment. It was small. There was a living and dining room combination with a small kitchen separated from the living area by a peninsula we used as a kitchen table. There was one bathroom and only one bedroom. After my sister was born my Dad renovated the attic into two bedrooms. You went up these very steep stairs to reach the first bedroom and then you had to go through the first bedroom (my parents room) to get to the front bedroom (my and my sister's room). The bedrooms were so small an adult could only stand up in the middle of the room as both side walls sloped inward at the angle of our steep  roof. It could be cold in the winter but we had down comforters my grandma had brought us from Norway. We had a space heater in the living room that gave some heat from a hole my Dad had cut in the ceiling of the living room/floor of the bedrooms. He liked to turn the heater off though at night to "save money". That was okay but in the summer? Whew, it was hot and I mean hot. I don't think anyone had air conditioning then. Only bowling alleys and movie theaters were "air-cooled" and as fundamentalist Christians we never were allowed to go to any of those "sinful places". On steamy Chicago summer nights we would drag our mattress into the front room and leave the front and back doors open. Dad would put a fan in one door blowing in and another sucking the hot air out of the tiny apartment. Mom always warned us "don't let the fan blow directly on you or you will wake up paralyzed" and Dad insisted "if you put your finger in the fan it will serve you right if it cuts off your fingertip, that's what happened to Cousin Arthur you know." I was always real careful about my fingers but it was often so hot I tried to get as close to the fan as I could. It was totally worth the risk of paralysis.

 1953 Chicago - Grandpa & Grandma, Mom and Me

We had a washing machine on our back porch but no dryer. My Mom hung the laundry on a pulley line that went from our porch to the top of the garage in back. Boy, those sheets and towels did smell good. Our front stairs went directly to the second floor. I remember them well because of my grandfather. He would whistle from the outside when he arrived and I would run to the front door. He would do a little fancy tap dance up the stairs and when he reached the top I would get a kiss and a piece of candy he had hidden in his pocket. We moved to the suburbs when I was entering the fifth grade. We moved to a nicer apartment building which my Dad bought in a nicer area but I always felt that little house on Monticello ave was my real home. Life was good then. Mom and Dad were young, happy, healthy.....and Grandpa could dance.

Legacy of Love, Joy and Laughter

This is my absolute, hands down, favorite photo of my Mother, Uncle, Grandmother and Grandfather. The Sevald Family. It is a posed portrait studio but none the less it shows the true nature of the family. Joy. How often in older photos so you see everyone smiling? My grandparents leaning in toward their children and each other, my mothers hand on her father's knee and my uncle standing proudly behind grinning widely. This was a happy loving family. And they all knew how to laugh,.... lots. That is the sort of legacy I am most thankful for today.

@1937 Chicago, Ill- The Sevald Family;
Paul Dagmer Arnold & Grace

Happy Thanksgiving!  

Visiting Family in Norway 1937

I am pretty sure that my grandfather Paul could have stayed in Chicago and never returned to Norway. I don't think he was particularly close with most of his siblings.  As I have spoke of in previous blogs, he did not have a particularly happy childhood. His mother died when he was young and his father was reportedly, well let's just say not a fellow you missed when away from him. For my grandmother Dagmar it was different. Her family was close and loving. I am sure they had their differences but she missed Norway terribly and the family made a point to return to visit when they were able. In 1937 all four of the family, grandpa Paul, grandma Dagmar, uncle Arnold and my mom Grace returned to Skien, Telemark, Norway for a visit. Outgoing Arnold quickly fell in with his cousins. It was harder for Grace. She was more shy and speaking Norwegian did not come as easily for her as it did for Arnold. "Everybody likes Arnold and nobody likes me" is how she told me she felt as a young girl back in Norway. Her mother reassured her with "you are grandma's favorite, she likes you best". She told me she did enjoy and feel at peace and somehow "at home" in Norway and sometimes wished her parents had never moved to Chicago.

my Mom 

Grace Gunhild Sevald Kallman

1927-1975

in front of her grandparents home in Skien, Norway 1937

An Anniversary to Remember

Sixty seven years ago today my parents, 

Melvin Kallman and Grace Sevald, became husband and wife.

The happy young couple

Mr. & Mrs. Melvin Kallman

married: October 1, 1949

**click on photo or document to enlarge for easier viewing**

Sibling Saturday - Arnold and Grace Sevald

When they went to the studio in Chicago for family photos, they had to return another day as the photographers camera malfunctioned. Arnold forever after teased his sister Grace..."Your face broke the camera!".   Just like a brother.

     my mom Grace Gunhild Kallman 1927-1975

my uncle Arnold Calvin Sevald 1925- 1983

***click on photo to enlarge for easier viewing***

Mother's Day

Mothers hold their children's hands for awhile

but their hearts ........... forever.

-unknown

Remembering Mom with love this Mother's Day

Grace Sevald Kallman

04 Mar 1927 - 21 Apr 1975

Dagmar's Stories - Grace cuts her head

 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.

Grace Gunhild Sevaldsen - back in Chicago

(click on photos to enlarge for easier viewing)