Friday, May 25, 2012
ShortyBellesSite: Welcome the Wind - maybe
ShortyBellesSite: Welcome the Wind - maybe: It is spring in the valley - the San Luis Valley. And although drier than most years it has come with the wind we've all grown ....slightly...
Welcome the Wind - maybe
It is spring in the valley - the San Luis Valley. And although drier than most years it has come with the wind we've all grown ....slightly...somewhat...well...we really don't like it but we've kinda learned to deal with it because not a single one of us has slightest hint of control at all on the weather. The wind is about the only thing the weather people can get right. We can bet on it when he/she says wind, it will be an accurate prediction. We can't always be sure when we hear "Rain in the forecast today" but when there's even mention of a 'breeze across south central Colorado' we can bet on wind. Unfortunately, the lottery companies know this so there's no such chance of winning money on gambling where the wind is concerned. If there were a chance, we here in the valley would all put money down on the chance of wind, all be right and have to share the pot, and all come up three dollars to our one in debt.
The wind is like one of those people - yeah, you know THOSE people. The people that come into our lives and try to change or control us. The people that seem the most difficult to deal with, understand, and just don't go away. We don't really want it - admit it we all know how easy it would be to have sunshine and rainbows and people we understand easily always around us - but it's there. It saps all moisture from anything that might have moisture. It takes the top soil to another yard, farm, or state. It chaps the hide and the soul. It bends trees and backs. It can take the hard work of callused hands and turn it into something of its own design. It can drain all our physical and emotional strength. You know, just like those people that come into our lives and try to change or control us.
I've said it before of those people that come into our lives trying to change or control "You can not control what other people do or say about us but you can control how you handle what people do or say about us." In other words - we can let it build or break us.
It's the same with the wind. We can chose how we handle it's arrival and seemingly ever consistent presence. We can grow very bitter about forces we can not control or we can turn and look at ourselves and see how our character and constitution can possibly grow from the challenges it brings. And in facing wind we've been tested and tried just as when we face THOSE people come into our lives.
We've learned how to channel and direct its power into energy. We've learned how to bend with it so we don't break, walk with it at our backs and let it lift us along the way. Sometimes we've turned to face it and fight it as best we can, build wind breaks to protect from it for example and...of course...watched some of those wind breaks actually break. We've learned - though sometimes it's hard to remember those lessons - there's good things to be had from the wind. The Sand Dunes National Park would not exist save for the wind that winds its way through the valley picking up and carrying as much sand as possible into the ever changing dunes of the northeastern corner of the Valley. I've noticed that when the wind is blowing there's no bugs - no millers or locust and no mosquitoes. It is my wish that these bugs all have been blown to the North Pole where they freeze and are someday found by a scientist who can not recall what species they once were. However, it's more likely they've just been blown to the Sand Dunes where they will remain safely buried beneath the sand until the wind dies down and they can return to their duties of annoyance.
We've also learned - though sometimes bitterly - to accept our own strengths and weaknesses where the wind is concerned. With the wind comes diseases and such often test our mortality. It is one of those facts that weaken the body and spirit, pain the heart, and torture the mind. It saps the much needed moisture those crops well known to the Valley crave - livestock included. Having to watch is sometimes as painful to the heart as suffering from our own injuries. Then there's the politicians that seem to have the answers to everything during election years - even the wind. Ahhh, sadly the wind can carry away the locusts but the politicians, like those weeds we can't poison during a drought, remain ever present.
Like THOSE people the wind tests us. It questions our strength, makes us question our strength, and sometimes rubs salt- or dirt - into the wound of injured pride. It can blur the bright of the day and tempt us to turn our backs on what we know and trust. How we handle the tests of the wind is completely in our hands. Like THOSE people we could welcome the wind and let it test its worth against us, show that we are capable of adjusting, capable of being among the unvanquished, worthy of sharing the globe with its power. We are in the Valley because those that have gone before us survived such times. They've been mirrored in books and movies because of their courage an fortuity.
They couldn't have done that without the wind.
The wind is like one of those people - yeah, you know THOSE people. The people that come into our lives and try to change or control us. The people that seem the most difficult to deal with, understand, and just don't go away. We don't really want it - admit it we all know how easy it would be to have sunshine and rainbows and people we understand easily always around us - but it's there. It saps all moisture from anything that might have moisture. It takes the top soil to another yard, farm, or state. It chaps the hide and the soul. It bends trees and backs. It can take the hard work of callused hands and turn it into something of its own design. It can drain all our physical and emotional strength. You know, just like those people that come into our lives and try to change or control us.
I've said it before of those people that come into our lives trying to change or control "You can not control what other people do or say about us but you can control how you handle what people do or say about us." In other words - we can let it build or break us.
It's the same with the wind. We can chose how we handle it's arrival and seemingly ever consistent presence. We can grow very bitter about forces we can not control or we can turn and look at ourselves and see how our character and constitution can possibly grow from the challenges it brings. And in facing wind we've been tested and tried just as when we face THOSE people come into our lives.
We've learned how to channel and direct its power into energy. We've learned how to bend with it so we don't break, walk with it at our backs and let it lift us along the way. Sometimes we've turned to face it and fight it as best we can, build wind breaks to protect from it for example and...of course...watched some of those wind breaks actually break. We've learned - though sometimes it's hard to remember those lessons - there's good things to be had from the wind. The Sand Dunes National Park would not exist save for the wind that winds its way through the valley picking up and carrying as much sand as possible into the ever changing dunes of the northeastern corner of the Valley. I've noticed that when the wind is blowing there's no bugs - no millers or locust and no mosquitoes. It is my wish that these bugs all have been blown to the North Pole where they freeze and are someday found by a scientist who can not recall what species they once were. However, it's more likely they've just been blown to the Sand Dunes where they will remain safely buried beneath the sand until the wind dies down and they can return to their duties of annoyance.
We've also learned - though sometimes bitterly - to accept our own strengths and weaknesses where the wind is concerned. With the wind comes diseases and such often test our mortality. It is one of those facts that weaken the body and spirit, pain the heart, and torture the mind. It saps the much needed moisture those crops well known to the Valley crave - livestock included. Having to watch is sometimes as painful to the heart as suffering from our own injuries. Then there's the politicians that seem to have the answers to everything during election years - even the wind. Ahhh, sadly the wind can carry away the locusts but the politicians, like those weeds we can't poison during a drought, remain ever present.
Like THOSE people the wind tests us. It questions our strength, makes us question our strength, and sometimes rubs salt- or dirt - into the wound of injured pride. It can blur the bright of the day and tempt us to turn our backs on what we know and trust. How we handle the tests of the wind is completely in our hands. Like THOSE people we could welcome the wind and let it test its worth against us, show that we are capable of adjusting, capable of being among the unvanquished, worthy of sharing the globe with its power. We are in the Valley because those that have gone before us survived such times. They've been mirrored in books and movies because of their courage an fortuity.
They couldn't have done that without the wind.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Grandma's Dash Part 5
You'd think I'd remember more about Grandma's life at this time in her life. I was alive for it, after all. And maybe it's not that I 'don't' remember, it's just that there's so much to remember, it's hard to do so in one little written segment.
She and Grandpa bought their first camper trailer and set off to discover America. They were sure to send all three of us grand-kids postcards and t-shirts from all the places they stopped. They wrote letters and took pictures so they could share their adventures with us when they came back home.
She was my confidante when they were home from traveling. She irrigated with us, she moved cattle with us, she branded with us. She taught me how to play poker, gin rummy, aggravation, and backgammon, and she'd listen to my growing up pains. She taught me how to sew and crochet granny squares. She could COOK!!!!
I remember more than once while working with the cattle or horses everyone thinking "We killed Grandma" only to have her pop up, madder and more than determined than ever. One particular memory is of a large Charolais steer that might have been as stubborn as Grandma. We'd finished branding for the day and because there was still daylight in the day we sorted him from the herd so to take him to the packer in the next couple of days. We had a rough time convincing him to stay in the corral by himself. He jumped - cleared by the way - three gates already. When we got him corralled one again, Grandma stood behind one gate thinking that'd be enough to sway his jumping again. It wasn't. The steer jumped over the gate, knocking her to the ground. Then, for no other reason than because he could, the steer turned around just as Grandma got back to her feet and jumped back over her an the gate knocking Grandma to the ground again. We were all surprised when she stood the first time but after the second time being knocked down we thought she had to have died. The steer jumped over another fence and headed north but we were too worried about Grandma to care about his direction. She stood up, shaking her first, and I believe that German brogue was coming out in her voice when she looked at my dad and told him he'd better catch that *insert German swearing here* because she was gonna enjoy every steak she ate outta him.
I remember admiring her strength and courage when Uncle Allen died - those many surgeries he'd gone through as a child finally got the better of his body. I remember that strength when she had her hips replaced. I remembered it again when we lost Grandpa to cancer. I remember her breaking for the first time I'd known her then and still thinking she strong. We were alone when she looked over at me and said - as though in apology for her tears, "You don't just forget 45 years over night." It couldn't have been easy for her but she wouldn't fall down, she wouldn't 'become the old lady'.
After Grandpa's death she continued her volunteer service for the VA in Truth or Consequences, NM. She continued helping with the annual Fiddler's Contest. She continued taking classes. She learned how to use the computer and learned about the internet. She emailed her family and friends, and started researching her own history. She had both of her knees replaced and she walked out of the hospital the same day. Yes, that's right, she had both knees replaced at the same time. Most doctors don't suggest doing that. Most weren't Grandma either. I was in the hospital with her when she had to have her middle finger removed. She wasn't afraid at all and was using the hand later that day. My dad said it was because she still couldn't feel anything but I was still in awe because I don't know too many people who would have moved the hand after the procedure, much less use it to hold her glass.
Yes, there's a lot of life that didn't get published, a lot of memories that might not get written down but the important thing to remember is that Grandma had 94 years of living - really living.
She and Grandpa bought their first camper trailer and set off to discover America. They were sure to send all three of us grand-kids postcards and t-shirts from all the places they stopped. They wrote letters and took pictures so they could share their adventures with us when they came back home.
She was my confidante when they were home from traveling. She irrigated with us, she moved cattle with us, she branded with us. She taught me how to play poker, gin rummy, aggravation, and backgammon, and she'd listen to my growing up pains. She taught me how to sew and crochet granny squares. She could COOK!!!!
I remember more than once while working with the cattle or horses everyone thinking "We killed Grandma" only to have her pop up, madder and more than determined than ever. One particular memory is of a large Charolais steer that might have been as stubborn as Grandma. We'd finished branding for the day and because there was still daylight in the day we sorted him from the herd so to take him to the packer in the next couple of days. We had a rough time convincing him to stay in the corral by himself. He jumped - cleared by the way - three gates already. When we got him corralled one again, Grandma stood behind one gate thinking that'd be enough to sway his jumping again. It wasn't. The steer jumped over the gate, knocking her to the ground. Then, for no other reason than because he could, the steer turned around just as Grandma got back to her feet and jumped back over her an the gate knocking Grandma to the ground again. We were all surprised when she stood the first time but after the second time being knocked down we thought she had to have died. The steer jumped over another fence and headed north but we were too worried about Grandma to care about his direction. She stood up, shaking her first, and I believe that German brogue was coming out in her voice when she looked at my dad and told him he'd better catch that *insert German swearing here* because she was gonna enjoy every steak she ate outta him.
I remember admiring her strength and courage when Uncle Allen died - those many surgeries he'd gone through as a child finally got the better of his body. I remember that strength when she had her hips replaced. I remembered it again when we lost Grandpa to cancer. I remember her breaking for the first time I'd known her then and still thinking she strong. We were alone when she looked over at me and said - as though in apology for her tears, "You don't just forget 45 years over night." It couldn't have been easy for her but she wouldn't fall down, she wouldn't 'become the old lady'.
After Grandpa's death she continued her volunteer service for the VA in Truth or Consequences, NM. She continued helping with the annual Fiddler's Contest. She continued taking classes. She learned how to use the computer and learned about the internet. She emailed her family and friends, and started researching her own history. She had both of her knees replaced and she walked out of the hospital the same day. Yes, that's right, she had both knees replaced at the same time. Most doctors don't suggest doing that. Most weren't Grandma either. I was in the hospital with her when she had to have her middle finger removed. She wasn't afraid at all and was using the hand later that day. My dad said it was because she still couldn't feel anything but I was still in awe because I don't know too many people who would have moved the hand after the procedure, much less use it to hold her glass.
Yes, there's a lot of life that didn't get published, a lot of memories that might not get written down but the important thing to remember is that Grandma had 94 years of living - really living.
Grandma's Dash Part 4
Grandma's life didn't end when she married Grandpa. She was still independent and still strong, only now she wasn't alone in that independence and strength. The building they'd started their marriage in was the building my mom raised chickens in when I was a kid so it was hard for me to picture anyone - much less my Grandma and Grandpa - calling it a home.
It was a temporary home while they built their new home - a place of efficiency where everything was within easy reach. "The perfect home of the 50's". It was a house not 25 yards from the home Grandpa grew up in. In her later years Grandma often wished she had been a little more frivolous in the design and a little less efficient. It was the sort of house you saw in the 'perfect sitcoms' of the 50's. Grandma wasn't quite the June Cleaver but she could have taken that perfect woman down in two snaps of her wet towel. (I heard many a person tell me the snapping of her towel could silence the quarreling of her two sons in less than a breath).
Jaroso was a busy town at this time. The train made its last stop here and with it Jaroso received business from both sides of the state line. Also bringing both states together was the grain elevator. A grocery store, a restaurant, hotel, bank, tractor implement, and the pool hall were kept hopping. There was also plenty of farming to do. Sheep, cattle, pigs, and crops had to be cared for. Not to mention KIDS. Rumors were rampant when Grandma gave birth to the first of two boys shortly after the wedding. It was said the marriage forced when Allen was born premature in 1950. Grandma and Grandpa didn't seem to mind the rumors. They had other things to worry about. Allen was a miracle child in that he survived birth but his childhood wasn't an easy one with many trips to the children's hospital in Denver.
January 1952 brought a flood for Grandma and Grandpa to survive. December 1952 brought their second son, Harold, for them to survive. Raising two boys in the 50s had as many adventures for Grandma and Grandpa as any of their other endeavors did. One of those adventures was having lost Allen and not knowing he was gone until after the train left the depot heading back north. They searched everywhere and when they still couldn't find him they called the depot in Fort Garland and asked them to be on alert for a 3 year old on the lamb. It was to their relief when a neighbor called to tell them the child had made the mile trek for a visit. Another such adventure - aka near heart attack - came later when the two boys were old enough to 'show their affection for one another'. It was a discrepancy involving a hammer and Harold's head. Grandma was busy loading the milk into the store fridge when Allen came over and informed her that "Harold's dying." Grandma recalled saying, "That's nice. Hope you boys are having fun." Then realizing what Allen had said and rushing over to find Harold laying on the concrete porch with his head cracked open.
They did get those two boy raised and even sent off to college - not a suggestion for the Anderson family but a requirement. The house was built, they survived the ups and downs of farming and the town dying. The many camping/hiking trips, the trips to Alaska, the CAP duty times, the many crash landings of more than one small airplane....and somewhere amidst all that living Grandma went back to the classroom, teaching in Centennial High School, San Luis.
Grandma was a good teacher - or at least all of the reports I've received from her students were that she was good. She was firm but fair. Many of the boys would rather take home ec with Mrs. Anderson than many of the other classes offered. More than one person has recalled a memory or two from my Grandma's lessons. Those that worked with her respected her as well.
As for me, I thought it was kinda cool to have a Grandma teaching in the same school I was attending. When I'd have those coordinationally challenged moments of my young life the first and second grade teachers would guide me to the high school and Grandma would take care of the problem. Most kids had their parents called. I remember holding a hand of cards in a game of 7 card rummy, sitting in the 'big kid chair,' wearing an over-sized skirt while waiting for the drier. I remember sitting in an all school assembly and hearing them call my Grandma to the front so she could receive an honor the year she retired. I was sitting next to my teacher and when she pointed and said "There's your Grandma," I remember replying with, "I know," and smiling.
I don't know how the high school worked without her the next year but I know I was one terrified kid getting on the bus for the first time knowing my Grandma wouldn't be there when I fell.
It was a temporary home while they built their new home - a place of efficiency where everything was within easy reach. "The perfect home of the 50's". It was a house not 25 yards from the home Grandpa grew up in. In her later years Grandma often wished she had been a little more frivolous in the design and a little less efficient. It was the sort of house you saw in the 'perfect sitcoms' of the 50's. Grandma wasn't quite the June Cleaver but she could have taken that perfect woman down in two snaps of her wet towel. (I heard many a person tell me the snapping of her towel could silence the quarreling of her two sons in less than a breath).
Jaroso was a busy town at this time. The train made its last stop here and with it Jaroso received business from both sides of the state line. Also bringing both states together was the grain elevator. A grocery store, a restaurant, hotel, bank, tractor implement, and the pool hall were kept hopping. There was also plenty of farming to do. Sheep, cattle, pigs, and crops had to be cared for. Not to mention KIDS. Rumors were rampant when Grandma gave birth to the first of two boys shortly after the wedding. It was said the marriage forced when Allen was born premature in 1950. Grandma and Grandpa didn't seem to mind the rumors. They had other things to worry about. Allen was a miracle child in that he survived birth but his childhood wasn't an easy one with many trips to the children's hospital in Denver.
January 1952 brought a flood for Grandma and Grandpa to survive. December 1952 brought their second son, Harold, for them to survive. Raising two boys in the 50s had as many adventures for Grandma and Grandpa as any of their other endeavors did. One of those adventures was having lost Allen and not knowing he was gone until after the train left the depot heading back north. They searched everywhere and when they still couldn't find him they called the depot in Fort Garland and asked them to be on alert for a 3 year old on the lamb. It was to their relief when a neighbor called to tell them the child had made the mile trek for a visit. Another such adventure - aka near heart attack - came later when the two boys were old enough to 'show their affection for one another'. It was a discrepancy involving a hammer and Harold's head. Grandma was busy loading the milk into the store fridge when Allen came over and informed her that "Harold's dying." Grandma recalled saying, "That's nice. Hope you boys are having fun." Then realizing what Allen had said and rushing over to find Harold laying on the concrete porch with his head cracked open.
They did get those two boy raised and even sent off to college - not a suggestion for the Anderson family but a requirement. The house was built, they survived the ups and downs of farming and the town dying. The many camping/hiking trips, the trips to Alaska, the CAP duty times, the many crash landings of more than one small airplane....and somewhere amidst all that living Grandma went back to the classroom, teaching in Centennial High School, San Luis.
Grandma was a good teacher - or at least all of the reports I've received from her students were that she was good. She was firm but fair. Many of the boys would rather take home ec with Mrs. Anderson than many of the other classes offered. More than one person has recalled a memory or two from my Grandma's lessons. Those that worked with her respected her as well.
As for me, I thought it was kinda cool to have a Grandma teaching in the same school I was attending. When I'd have those coordinationally challenged moments of my young life the first and second grade teachers would guide me to the high school and Grandma would take care of the problem. Most kids had their parents called. I remember holding a hand of cards in a game of 7 card rummy, sitting in the 'big kid chair,' wearing an over-sized skirt while waiting for the drier. I remember sitting in an all school assembly and hearing them call my Grandma to the front so she could receive an honor the year she retired. I was sitting next to my teacher and when she pointed and said "There's your Grandma," I remember replying with, "I know," and smiling.
I don't know how the high school worked without her the next year but I know I was one terrified kid getting on the bus for the first time knowing my Grandma wouldn't be there when I fell.
Friday, May 4, 2012
Grandma's Dash Part 3
Grandma loved school and even at a young age read everything she could get her hands on. Her parents encouraged the learning as well but given the time period and their means no one - not even she - expected that college was in her future. That all changed when grandma's teacher and superintendent suggested her for a program at Iowa State College (now Iowa State university). Through this program, Grandma was able to earn her college degree if she worked for the school. Some of her duties included helping in the kitchen and in cleaning. She took a great deal of pride in being able to work for her studies.
When she graduated she had a Bachelors of Science in what was then called Life Sciences. One of the classes she told me about required that the students care for a child. When she told me about this I thought she meant a doll but I was mistaken. It was during the depression and there were families that could not afford to feed all their children, especially those that had needs above and beyond that of a normal child. Some times those children were given into the care of the universities so they could have the care they needed while giving others the experience of caring for them. The child Grandma and her group were given had several medical needs and could often try their patience while they were caring for her. There were many doctor visits, many nights without sleep, and many other experiences she said she'd not forget.
After graduating she took a job teaching in the town of Delhi, Iowa. She taught two years there. When she left she didn't plan on teaching ever again. Her parents encouraged her to visit the nearby town of Ocheyedan where she was called to do an interview. She was patronizing them when she made the drive, determined that she would not accept the job no matter what they offered. However, when she left the interview she left with a teaching contract in hand. Her salary was $125/month and she was very proud of that salary. She taught one year there before her supervisor encouraged her to further her education. This drew her west to Colorado where she once again found herself working for the college - this time Colorado State University - to get her Master's Degree. One of the stories she shared about that experience was having to kick the now Dr. Ben Konishi out of the girl's dorms when he was visiting his future wife.
Grandma was teaching in Pueblo when she was introduced to Grandpa. She actually met him in his own kitchen in the house my mom and dad live in now. She was dating a friend of his when they were introduced. Not long after that her relationship with his friend was dissolved and their own was created. The only story I can remember right now about their courtship, other than her meeting him in his own kitchen, was that Grandpa had his pilot's license and in the effort to impress him, Grandma signed up for flight instruction in Pueblo. While making a surprise visit, Grandpa found her with the flight instructor so the surprise was ruined. I would have liked to have heard more and I'm sure I did. I've often thought it had to be something of romantic. And it must have been a successful courtship because on July 30, 1949 she became Mrs. Anderson and moved into the back room of the pool hall in Jaroso.
When she graduated she had a Bachelors of Science in what was then called Life Sciences. One of the classes she told me about required that the students care for a child. When she told me about this I thought she meant a doll but I was mistaken. It was during the depression and there were families that could not afford to feed all their children, especially those that had needs above and beyond that of a normal child. Some times those children were given into the care of the universities so they could have the care they needed while giving others the experience of caring for them. The child Grandma and her group were given had several medical needs and could often try their patience while they were caring for her. There were many doctor visits, many nights without sleep, and many other experiences she said she'd not forget.
After graduating she took a job teaching in the town of Delhi, Iowa. She taught two years there. When she left she didn't plan on teaching ever again. Her parents encouraged her to visit the nearby town of Ocheyedan where she was called to do an interview. She was patronizing them when she made the drive, determined that she would not accept the job no matter what they offered. However, when she left the interview she left with a teaching contract in hand. Her salary was $125/month and she was very proud of that salary. She taught one year there before her supervisor encouraged her to further her education. This drew her west to Colorado where she once again found herself working for the college - this time Colorado State University - to get her Master's Degree. One of the stories she shared about that experience was having to kick the now Dr. Ben Konishi out of the girl's dorms when he was visiting his future wife.
Grandma was teaching in Pueblo when she was introduced to Grandpa. She actually met him in his own kitchen in the house my mom and dad live in now. She was dating a friend of his when they were introduced. Not long after that her relationship with his friend was dissolved and their own was created. The only story I can remember right now about their courtship, other than her meeting him in his own kitchen, was that Grandpa had his pilot's license and in the effort to impress him, Grandma signed up for flight instruction in Pueblo. While making a surprise visit, Grandpa found her with the flight instructor so the surprise was ruined. I would have liked to have heard more and I'm sure I did. I've often thought it had to be something of romantic. And it must have been a successful courtship because on July 30, 1949 she became Mrs. Anderson and moved into the back room of the pool hall in Jaroso.
Grandma's Dash Part 2
After passing through Ellis Island, the new family traveled to Iowa to meet with Marie's cousins and start working for the large farm there. The owner of the farm introduced Grandma to his son who was older than she. Grandma said he considered her a nuisance but he did look after her as his father requested. The made sure she got to the school alright and to the classroom she was supposed to be in. Her first task in school was to learn English. The farmer gave her his sons old school books and her first grade teacher also gave her plenty of books to help her with her education. Her first grade teacher also spent time with her during lunch to help her understand the language.
Grandma's second grade teacher wasn't as patient and grandma's stubborn nature likely didn't help the situation any either. She failed the second grade but she recalled it being the best thing that could have happened to her. She had the chance to fully understand what she'd been unable to understand before. This repeating second grade helped her out down the road. There are times I wish people could look at failing in the same light today. As Grandma learned English she taught Marie and Antone English. When farming allowed the time she helped her parents study for the citizenship test. The teachers, principals, and superintendents that came into her life also helped by giving her materials that would help her parents pass the citizenship test.
As history will tell you, immigrants from Germany at this time didn't always have it easy. Fear breeds suspicion and often will lead to misunderstandings. Antone, especially, felt the scrutiny. As he learned English he struggled to disguise the German brogue from his speech, thinking it would help him better fit in and not get them deported back to Germany or worse. The German temper did not always aide his efforts. More than once Grandma and Marie thought they'd be in trouble when his temper got the better of him. Whenever Grandma told me stories of Great Grandpa's temper and brogue I always pictured Popeye and his little cartoon fits. I'm sure it wasn't nearly as funny as my imaginings made it seem. Learning how to cuss in English and the slang that comes with the language was another lesson the family struggled to adapt to. Grandma told of misunderstandings that started only because Antone thought the swear word the name of the horse the farmer was yelling at. It was apparent that some 'horse names' were not appropriate to mention in mixed company.
It wasn't easy but they were free to make their choices now and choose they did. Grandma continued to help her parents learn the language and study for the tests. It was a joyful day when Marie and Antone passed the test necessary to make the entire family American! To add to their blessings, eventually, they had their own farm to work, their own livestock to raise, and their own crops to harvest. Marie had two tubal pregnancies that both ended in miscarriages. This left Grandma as an only child and as such she was both son and daughter. She helped with the cleaning and cooking as well as helped with the livestock and farming. She could harness a horse and work behind the plow and many other tasks that would have been required of a son. As payment for her labor she'd get her choice of calf and piglet. When the animals were sold she could use the money from the sales to purchase books, material for dresses, and shoes for school.
Grandma told many a story about growing up this way. She related how important school was and how she often played school with the farm animals. When they wouldn't sit still or it got too cold to play outside she moved to the corn crib where she'd set the corn cobs upright and teach them a good and proper lesson. If they minded well enough she'd even supervise a recess for the star pupils.
She also shared some of her adventures with the horses they raised. One particular horse was named Kate and Kate had those natural herding instincts that some horses are known for. Grandma rode Kate on an errand for her mother. She was taking something to a neighbor. The trip to the neighbor's house was uneventful. The trip back was another story entirely. The neighbor gave Grandma a large bucket (I can't remember what was in the bucket but it was flour or something along those lines). Grandma couldn't see around the bucket as she rode so she trusted Kate to know the road home. She said it did seem like a longer ride back but didn't know why until she heard her mother's gasp from the porch of their house. With the bucket out of her tired arms and into the waiting arms of Marie Grandma could see what Kate had done. Filling their yard were animals from the farms between the home she'd visited and their own. Kate had taken it upon herself to gather and herd every sheep and cow along the way back. Grandma and Kate spent the rest of the afternoon returning the livestock to the proper homes as well as apologizing to the somewhat irate farmers.
Grandma's second grade teacher wasn't as patient and grandma's stubborn nature likely didn't help the situation any either. She failed the second grade but she recalled it being the best thing that could have happened to her. She had the chance to fully understand what she'd been unable to understand before. This repeating second grade helped her out down the road. There are times I wish people could look at failing in the same light today. As Grandma learned English she taught Marie and Antone English. When farming allowed the time she helped her parents study for the citizenship test. The teachers, principals, and superintendents that came into her life also helped by giving her materials that would help her parents pass the citizenship test.
As history will tell you, immigrants from Germany at this time didn't always have it easy. Fear breeds suspicion and often will lead to misunderstandings. Antone, especially, felt the scrutiny. As he learned English he struggled to disguise the German brogue from his speech, thinking it would help him better fit in and not get them deported back to Germany or worse. The German temper did not always aide his efforts. More than once Grandma and Marie thought they'd be in trouble when his temper got the better of him. Whenever Grandma told me stories of Great Grandpa's temper and brogue I always pictured Popeye and his little cartoon fits. I'm sure it wasn't nearly as funny as my imaginings made it seem. Learning how to cuss in English and the slang that comes with the language was another lesson the family struggled to adapt to. Grandma told of misunderstandings that started only because Antone thought the swear word the name of the horse the farmer was yelling at. It was apparent that some 'horse names' were not appropriate to mention in mixed company.
It wasn't easy but they were free to make their choices now and choose they did. Grandma continued to help her parents learn the language and study for the tests. It was a joyful day when Marie and Antone passed the test necessary to make the entire family American! To add to their blessings, eventually, they had their own farm to work, their own livestock to raise, and their own crops to harvest. Marie had two tubal pregnancies that both ended in miscarriages. This left Grandma as an only child and as such she was both son and daughter. She helped with the cleaning and cooking as well as helped with the livestock and farming. She could harness a horse and work behind the plow and many other tasks that would have been required of a son. As payment for her labor she'd get her choice of calf and piglet. When the animals were sold she could use the money from the sales to purchase books, material for dresses, and shoes for school.
Grandma told many a story about growing up this way. She related how important school was and how she often played school with the farm animals. When they wouldn't sit still or it got too cold to play outside she moved to the corn crib where she'd set the corn cobs upright and teach them a good and proper lesson. If they minded well enough she'd even supervise a recess for the star pupils.
She also shared some of her adventures with the horses they raised. One particular horse was named Kate and Kate had those natural herding instincts that some horses are known for. Grandma rode Kate on an errand for her mother. She was taking something to a neighbor. The trip to the neighbor's house was uneventful. The trip back was another story entirely. The neighbor gave Grandma a large bucket (I can't remember what was in the bucket but it was flour or something along those lines). Grandma couldn't see around the bucket as she rode so she trusted Kate to know the road home. She said it did seem like a longer ride back but didn't know why until she heard her mother's gasp from the porch of their house. With the bucket out of her tired arms and into the waiting arms of Marie Grandma could see what Kate had done. Filling their yard were animals from the farms between the home she'd visited and their own. Kate had taken it upon herself to gather and herd every sheep and cow along the way back. Grandma and Kate spent the rest of the afternoon returning the livestock to the proper homes as well as apologizing to the somewhat irate farmers.
Grandma's Dash
Edith Margarete Anderson
April 4, 1918 - April 27, 2012
Yeah, the dash - you know, that little line that signifies the life spent between life and death. That little dash that signifies so much. Grandma's dash, though tiny on the tombstone and in the obituary, was anything but little. It was grand, it was adventurous, it was significant.
Grandma was born on the Wilhelmshaven Naval Base in Rustringen, Germany to Albert and Marie Henning. Albert served in the German navy and left Marie with his family on the base during WWI. He learned of my grandma's coming via letters. To be honest he was not expecting to have a child so shortly after marrying Marie. He was still thrilled at the news and in one letter home he asked that they name the baby Edith if born a girl. Albert never got to see his beautiful daughter come into the world. His ship was sunk - in what battle or what part of the ocean I'm still not sure of - and he didn't make it home. To honor Albert's wishes, Marie named the baby girl Edith but had to fight the German authorities in order to do so. Edith was an English name. To appease the authorities Marie added Margarete to the name and until they came to the states Grandma went by Margarete.
The first five years of Grandma's life were spent in the chaos of the fallen Germany. She told stories about those early days and of what she remembered. Her mother had family in the country so when they visited Grandma and her mother wore heavy coats with secret pockets. Inside those secret pockets they hid the food their country relatives gave them. If caught with this hidden treasure they could have been in a lot of trouble. During this same time Antone (her soon to be father) and his brother made a living killing, skinning, and selling rabbits. When there were no longer rabbits they killed and skinned cats for the meat. Grandma also talked about other times when walking in the streets it was no big deal to hear gunfire and duck down into the alleys to take cover only to return to the walking when the gunfire subsided as though nothing at all had gone down. She said at the time she thought everyone lived like that.
As things in the country worsened letters came to Marie from family in the United States. One letter told of the farms needing help in Iowa. Marie and Antone had started seeing each other but not long enough to have considered marriage. However, with the worsening times they felt they needed to leave Germany and do so soon. They married and soon after they boarded the SS Canopic for the United States. Grandma was 5 and thrilled to have a dad. She was not as happy to have to leave her grandfather who'd taken care of her and her mother. It was even more difficult to learn of his death when his home was blown up in the chaos of a people searching for leadership.
Marriage to a member of the German navy had not much influence on Marie where the sea was concerned. She spent the entire trip across the ocean below deck suffering from motion sickness. With Marie being sick the entire trip and Antone being new to fatherhood it wasn't too difficult for the curious Edith to escape and explore. One such exploration found her above deck pushing buttons and turning knobs. One of the knobs she turned opened the pipes and water spewed recklessly across the deck. Like any child in such circumstances she did what she could to stop the water but her efforts only made the matter worse. She remembered being caught by a grown up and pulled away from the knobs and buttons. When the rushing water was stopped she looked up into the eyes of ... yeah, the Captain of the ship and he wasn't happy. He took her with him to his quarters where Edith claims she knew she'd get punished. She expected a spanking or worse. However, what she got instead was an orange - her first ever - and lessons in how to peel and eat it. The Captain was Norwegian and Edith only spoke German so neither could communicate with one another beyond the lessons of the shared fruit. The Captain returned her safely to her parents and adventures aboard the SS Canopic were more cautiously approached after that incident. It would seem that even the tenacious Edith didn't want to push her luck too far.
On December 22, 1923 they arrived at Ellis Island - the gateway to the home of the free and the land of the brave. Grandma talks about how large it was, how vast, and how exciting everything felt. They weren't American citizens yet but they were closer and already they could feel the release from the pressures of post war Germany.
April 4, 1918 - April 27, 2012
Grandma's Dash
Part 1
Yeah, the dash - you know, that little line that signifies the life spent between life and death. That little dash that signifies so much. Grandma's dash, though tiny on the tombstone and in the obituary, was anything but little. It was grand, it was adventurous, it was significant.
Grandma was born on the Wilhelmshaven Naval Base in Rustringen, Germany to Albert and Marie Henning. Albert served in the German navy and left Marie with his family on the base during WWI. He learned of my grandma's coming via letters. To be honest he was not expecting to have a child so shortly after marrying Marie. He was still thrilled at the news and in one letter home he asked that they name the baby Edith if born a girl. Albert never got to see his beautiful daughter come into the world. His ship was sunk - in what battle or what part of the ocean I'm still not sure of - and he didn't make it home. To honor Albert's wishes, Marie named the baby girl Edith but had to fight the German authorities in order to do so. Edith was an English name. To appease the authorities Marie added Margarete to the name and until they came to the states Grandma went by Margarete.
The first five years of Grandma's life were spent in the chaos of the fallen Germany. She told stories about those early days and of what she remembered. Her mother had family in the country so when they visited Grandma and her mother wore heavy coats with secret pockets. Inside those secret pockets they hid the food their country relatives gave them. If caught with this hidden treasure they could have been in a lot of trouble. During this same time Antone (her soon to be father) and his brother made a living killing, skinning, and selling rabbits. When there were no longer rabbits they killed and skinned cats for the meat. Grandma also talked about other times when walking in the streets it was no big deal to hear gunfire and duck down into the alleys to take cover only to return to the walking when the gunfire subsided as though nothing at all had gone down. She said at the time she thought everyone lived like that.
As things in the country worsened letters came to Marie from family in the United States. One letter told of the farms needing help in Iowa. Marie and Antone had started seeing each other but not long enough to have considered marriage. However, with the worsening times they felt they needed to leave Germany and do so soon. They married and soon after they boarded the SS Canopic for the United States. Grandma was 5 and thrilled to have a dad. She was not as happy to have to leave her grandfather who'd taken care of her and her mother. It was even more difficult to learn of his death when his home was blown up in the chaos of a people searching for leadership.
Marriage to a member of the German navy had not much influence on Marie where the sea was concerned. She spent the entire trip across the ocean below deck suffering from motion sickness. With Marie being sick the entire trip and Antone being new to fatherhood it wasn't too difficult for the curious Edith to escape and explore. One such exploration found her above deck pushing buttons and turning knobs. One of the knobs she turned opened the pipes and water spewed recklessly across the deck. Like any child in such circumstances she did what she could to stop the water but her efforts only made the matter worse. She remembered being caught by a grown up and pulled away from the knobs and buttons. When the rushing water was stopped she looked up into the eyes of ... yeah, the Captain of the ship and he wasn't happy. He took her with him to his quarters where Edith claims she knew she'd get punished. She expected a spanking or worse. However, what she got instead was an orange - her first ever - and lessons in how to peel and eat it. The Captain was Norwegian and Edith only spoke German so neither could communicate with one another beyond the lessons of the shared fruit. The Captain returned her safely to her parents and adventures aboard the SS Canopic were more cautiously approached after that incident. It would seem that even the tenacious Edith didn't want to push her luck too far.
On December 22, 1923 they arrived at Ellis Island - the gateway to the home of the free and the land of the brave. Grandma talks about how large it was, how vast, and how exciting everything felt. They weren't American citizens yet but they were closer and already they could feel the release from the pressures of post war Germany.
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