Mom and Dad's First Date

This was edited from an oral history I collected from Mom (Jane Hislop Brubaker) in 2008.  Mom’s birthday is coming up, she would have been 82 years old.  I’m posting this because I am thinking of both her and Dad.  Happy Birthday Mom.

We had a party one night. We decided to have a party at one of the girls’ homes, but we didn’t have any men to invite, because we didn’t know any. So Mary Marvella brought over all these boys from Nampa. Which, Eddie was one of them. We went to a bar. I remember we were dancing. I mean, we were there, and everybody started dancing except I wasn’t dancing. And here comes Eddie and says, “Dance with me.” So I said OK, and I danced with him. And then he spun me around, and when I got back around I couldn’t find him. I’ll never forget that. He had a coat rack in his arms. And he was dancing with that and he said, “Oh, Janie.  Janie, you’ve lost so much weight.” And I thought, “Oh, God, how funny a guy he is!” That’s how I met him.

After that, well, I didn’t see him again for a long time. And then instead of Eddie calling me, Willy Marvella called me and asked me to go out.

Finally Eddie called me one night and asked me to go out with him. And I said, yeah, I would. But guess what? He never showed. He stood me up!  He didn’t show that first time. And the second time he called me, he asked me to go out with him, and I went. He told me that he had to be home because his brother Pat came to town. And he was in service, I think, or something.  I didn’t put up a fight with him or nothing. I just said yes. And he showed. I don’t remember where we went. 

Mom, I think all five of your children are glad you gave Dad a second chance at a date!

Some Insight Into Immigration

I am reading the Vilhelm Moberg series: The Emigrant Novels.  He provides an interesting perspective on the push/pull forces the drive so much of immigration to the United States.  In his historic novels we have eight characters that for a variety of reasons immigrate to the United States from Sweden.  We have the farmer looking for more, better farm land; his wife who is running from the emotional trauma of losing a child during the starvation times.  We also have the two young men who are running away from their labor contracts with a cruel farmer.  In the novel there is also the group seeking religious freedom, and the woman who is a social outcast with her illegitimate, teenage daughter.  And, finally we cannot forget the man who hates his wife and is fleeing an unhappy marriage “after the children have grown.”

All of these characters are moving to the United States seeking a better life.  But each of them illustrates a different personal reason that either pulls them to immigrate, or pushes them out of Sweden.

Moberg originally published this series in the 1940s and 1950s.  There are four volumes.  He is rich in detail and creates a set of unique and entertaining characters.  The books are very readable, but more importantly, they seem to be well researched and, although historic fiction, they are accurate.  The push pull factors are not the only memorable details of this story.  They are simply the first of many that slowly are emerging from these pages.

Yes, the books are somewhat old, written more than 60 years ago.  But the story line and the messages presented here are worth visiting.  We will visit Moberg again as the story unfolds.

Some Memories About Growing During the Depression

Watching a train with some coal cars pass by the other day I remembered a story Dad used to tell about growing up during the Depression of the 1930s.  Dad was born in 1928, so he was maybe 8 years old when he did this:  In order to heat the house in Idaho, the kids in the neighborhood would listen for the trains to travel by.  As the train would lumber by, the kids would throw rocks at the locomotive and the cars.  In response, the engineer and the fireman would throw wood or coal, whichever they were burning, back at the kids.  The kids would then gather up all of the coal and wood to take home and burn in the stoves or furnaces.  There was never anything malicious about this daily event.  Everyone, the trainmen and the children, understood that this was a way to help everyone in the neighborhood.  Afterall, the entire country was suffering from the depression, this was simply an informal way to give to the less fortunate in the community; to provide a free resource to heat their homes.

Still, another way to heat the house, a man in the neighborhood went to every house and explained how to by-pass the gas meter. Then when the gas reader came by to read the meter, one neighbor would stall him while the rest of the neighborhood removed the evidence of the by-pass.  Dad remembered that the man that introduced all of this went to jail.  But the rest of the neighborhood continued to survive.

The lesson in all of this is that the community worked together for the survival of all.  There was no “survival of the fittest” mentality.  It was more of a “we’re all in this together” concept.

We hear about the depression era mentality when then generation of Americans hate to waste anything.  I also wonder if there isn’t a greater sense of charity and compassion in that same generation because they all grew up working together to insure the well being of everyone in the neighborhood.

Review of Northern Slave Black Dakota by Walt Bachman

The Sherburne History Center is hosting a monthly book club. As we read the books for the club, I will try to post some thoughts about the book. This coming month, in March, we are discussing Northern Slave Black Dakota The Life and Times of Joseph Godfrey by Walt Bachman.

Walt Bachman presents some interesting ideas with this book. Perhaps the most startling of his many thoughts concerns the treatment of blacks in Minnesota before the Civil War. We all know from high school history that Minnesota was part of the Northwest Ordinance and therefore slavery was outlawed. Bachman makes the point that just because it is illegal doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Joseph Godfrey, the focus of this book, was a slave in Minnesota until he escaped and lived with the Dakota Native American group. Although this seems to be common sense after all Dred Scott was a slave in Minnesota and inspired the 1850s lawsuit. But Bachman, in this book brings home the point very well. To further reinforce this, he makes the point that Godfrey was in fear of his freedom beyond 1862! And because he participated in the Dakota Uprising he was imprisoned until 1867.

Also interesting is the point made by Bachman that Joseph Godfrey is neither a free Minnesotan, nor is he truly Dakota. Joseph Godfrey doesn't belong; he is alone in the world. And his story is a tale of one man simply trying to survive in spite of impossible circumstances.

There are some interesting ideas and thoughts in these pages. The author challenges us to rethink our history and possibly reconsider some of what we have learned.

Published in 2013, this book is a fascinating bit of research. Although a bit difficult to obtain, and expensive, if you can borrow this book from a library, or a friend, it is well worth the read. The cover price is $34.95 for the hardback copy. Many friends regard me as overly frugal. I generally don’t spend more than $20 on a book. The publisher needs to bring the price of this book down.

Hi, I am back again

Well, it has been almost two years since I last posted anything.  I hope to resume posting on a regular basis.  I guess, I'm back!

The Census Enumerators

The following is a reprint of a blog posting made to the Sherburne History Center blog on March 19, 2012.

While surfing through microfilm pages of the Sherburne County Times newspapers, I encountered two interesting articles, published in two consecutive weeks. The first reported:

“Miss Emily J. Mosford has been appointed census enumerator for this district which comprises the towns of Clear Lake and Haven, also the village of Clear Lake.
The work of taking the census of the country will begin on the 15th of April. It is a government census and the aim of the department is to make it as thorough and complete as possible. Don’t hesitate to answer the questions the enumerator ask you; they are for statistical use only, and, more over the federal government require that you answer them, severe penalties being imposed upon all who refuse to do so. So, make it pleasant as you can for the enumerator and thereby give your locality a good showing.”

This article appeared on 31 March 1910. In the next issue, 7 April 1910, the full list of enumerators for the county appeared:

“Following are the enumerators for this county:
Baldwin and Blue Hill, H B Pratt
Becker town and village, Edwin Winterborne
Big Lake town and village, John Nordin
Clear Lake town and village and Haven exclusive
of E. St. Cloud, Emil J Mosford
Elk River town, Elk River village, Burns F. Plummer
Livonia and Orrock, Melvin C. Enger
Palmer and Santiago, S T Packard”

This is all interesting, I don’t know that I have ever seen a local newspaper publish the names of the enumerators as part of the campaign to promote participation in the census.

Death By Accident

In her recent book Hey, America, Your Roots Are Showing, Megan Smolenyak-Smolenyak writes about a young African-American man in Texas who was killed during the Civil Rights movement. He was shot in the head three times and his death was determined to be accidental.

Ms. Smolenyak writes of being shocked at these conclusions. “How could firing several rounds into a local hangout be accidental?” she asks.

All of this reminds me of a story during my graduate studies in Georgia. I was attending class with a fellow student, a justice of the Georgia courts. At the time there were multiple news reports about a young man who had been shot several times and his death ruled a suicide. At the beginning of class one evening I wondered, aloud, how could anyone be shot several times and still be ruled a suicide. The justice, my colleague, simply commented, “You obviously haven’t lived in the South very long.”

In addition to racism, these stories indicate significant regionalism. Police in the South are, to this day, more inclined to draw a mental line between two points and come up with the most straight forward conclusion. If someone is shot and there are no witnesses, it must be suicide. Any incongruities that might hinder this conclusion are best ignored. And life goes on.

I guess I have lived in the South long enough because a man shot through a window, several times, ruled an accident in really not shocking, nor surprising.

I suppose I am way too cynical.