This file
part of www.dodgejeffgen.com website
Contributed by Susan Goodman
Gunderson Family History
Rasmussen Family History
Rock River Norwegian Lutheran Settlement and Congregation
[ This memoir gives a nice feeling for
what life was like on an early farm ]
EARLY LIFE AND FAMILY
Published in 1959 by Nicholas
Gunderson [1876-1962]
I was born in a log house on a farm,
along the Rock River in the town of Ixonia, in
Jefferson County, Wisconsin on a Sunday morning November 5, 1876. My father Nils Naas Gunderson, one of the
pioneers in the Rock River settlement, was born in Drangedal,
Norway, March 1, 1835. He came to America at the age of ten, with his parents, Gunder and Asper Naas Nelson, in a sail boat called the "Presiosa", in seven weeks and two days. This was
regarded as breaking all records of speed up to that time. The trip from New
York to Milwaukee was made by the way of the Erie Canal, and the Great Lakes.
They drove from Milwaukee to the East banks of the Rock River with oxen, a
distance of 35 miles. Here they chose to cast their lot, and with a few other
early pioneers, they became the nucleus of the Rock
River Norwegian Lutheran Settlement and Congregation.
My mother, Anne [Kaarfelt/Corfelt] , was born in Gulbrandsdalen,
Norway March 17, 1839. As a little girl of six years of age, she came to
America in the Spring of 1845 with her parents, Ole [Ingebrechtsen
Kaarfeld/Corfeld] and Eli [Nilsdatter
Berndum] Corfeld, who
were among the pioneers who braved the frontier life, and blazed the way for
the future State. The trip across the Atlantic was made in seven weeks in a
sail boat called "Oleous". When they
reached New York, there was great rejoicing, for they had made the trip in
record time and had beaten the "Presiosa" which
was considered one of the fastest boats, by two days. They reached Milwaukee by
way of the Erie Canal and the Great Lakes August 10th of the same year.
Milwaukee, at that time was only a
small village, built in the swamp along Lake Michigan. From there they made
their way through the woods on foot and with oxen to the west bank of Rock
River. Here they built their log house which was to become their home in the
new world.
On June 15, 1861, my father, Nils, and my mother Anne, were married by Rev. Nils Brandt. They moved to the farm near Ixonia, which had been bought by my grandfather, Gunder Naas, in July of 1858. On
June 15, 1911, they celebrated their golden wedding anniversary on the farm
where they had lived during all these years. A feature of the celebration of
the golden anniversary was the presence of my father's mother, who was 92 years
old, and the Rev. Nils Brandt, of McFarland, who gave
the main address, and who had performed the wedding ceremony 50 years before.
This is a very rare occurrence and has very seldom, if ever been duplicated.
Among the seventy five or more
relatives and friends from Oconomowoc, Toland and the
Rock River settlement, were two of fathers brothers and two sisters from
Minnesota, Andrew Nelson from Kasson, Christian Nelson from Owatonna, Mina
Holmen from Kenyon and Emma Lord from St. Paul. A big banquet dinner was served
on a long outdoor table under the beautiful maples on the farm lawn. A
beautiful gold headed cane was given to my father, and a gold headed parasol to
my mother. Besides the address given by Rev. Brandt, talks were made by Rev. O.
I. Wilhelmsen, Pastor of the Rock River St. Luke's
Church for 37 years, and by Nicholas Gunderson then Superintendent of the
Prairie du Chien Schools.
It was an occasion long to be remembered by all.
The old farm was first bought as a
land grant from the Government by Lyman Kellog and
signed by Pres. John Tyler September 10, 1844. Kellog
sold it to Christian Johnson in 1852, and he to my grandfather Gunder Nelson Naas on July 15,
1858. Next July it will therefore have been in our family 100 years. I still
have all the recorded documents. What a history and what memories the farm and
old home bring to mind. In the early days the busy spinning wheel - the tallow
candles, - the kerosene lamp and lantern, the old oaken bucket well, the scythe
and cradle to cut hay and grain, the old wood stove. I can remember them all.
No telephone, no radio, no television, no mail service, no electric lights or
power. The windmill was a great labor saving help to pump water for the cows
when it came in 1890. Mother said in the first few years on the farm, Indians
would walk along the river bank. They often stopped [and looked] toward the
buildings, but none ever came to the house. Yet there was fear many times.
Thousands of Indian arrows and two very perfect stone axes,
have been found on the farm. My brother sold them more than seventy years ago
for 75 cents. What a sale! or shall I say, what a buy?
Sunday was a day of reverence, and
no farm work was ever done on Sunday. Every third Sunday there were Lutheran
services in the old St. Luke's Church, and all the families, including the
children in the congregation, as a rule were present. If a family was missing,
mother used to say; "someone must have been sick or something, in that
home on that day." Church and Church attendance was given a high place in
the thought and life of the early settlers. Sermons were long. Two hours were
not unusual. Most children went to sleep, and very often a loud sonorous snore,
could not be heard emanating from some tired and overworked settler. Many a
child wet his pants, before he heard with joy the announcement by the pastor of
the closing hymn. So you see, even got religion the hard way. But nothing came
easy for the early pioneers. Everything worth while, won or achieved, was by
sweat and toil -- the hard way,
The old cemetery in front of the old
church brings back many sad memories. Most of my old friends, father,
mother, and nearly all of the ten brothers and sisters, are buried there. Eight
of my mother's children preceded her in death. In the early days and before the
turn of the last century, funerals were crude and simple. There was no hearse.
A sleigh or wagon was used. After a short service in the church, the service
was concluded at the grave. On many such occasions, my uncle Even Corfeld, who had strong harness lines provided them to
lower the casket into the grave. The pastor would then commit the body to the
ground in these words; "Fra Jord
er du tagen;
til Jord skall du blive;
og av jorden
skall du ijen op staa". A literal
translation: "From earth you are taken; to earth you shall become, and
from earth you shall again arise."
The minister would then announce a hymn, and while the people sang
friends and neighbors, who had brought shovels, would proceed to fill the
grave. There was no sham or show among these simple folk.
What a contrast to what we see
today. Thousands of dollars spent on flowers, show and paraphernalia, while
millions of under privileged people, in nearly all parts of the world go to bed
hungry every night.
Another cemetery scene I remember as
a little boy. This, of course, could not happen today. A man of the congregation
had committed suicide. The old belief was that this not only destroyed the body
and also the soul. So the body could not be taken into the church for any
services. Neither would they carry the body through the front gate, but the
pallbearers lifted the casket over the fence at the corner of the cemetery,
where it is buried in an unmarked grave.
Rev. O. I. M. Wilhelmsen
was our minister for 37 years, from 1875 to 1912. He baptized me and he
confirmed me in a class of 22, in 1890, eleven girls and eleven boys. As far as
I know, all except me, are dead. There were eleven from Toland,
five from Stone Bank and six from the Rock River congregation. All church
services were then in Norwegian. So we had to learn our "Katikismus" "Forklaring"
and "Bibel Historyi"
in Norwegian. Then on the day of confirmation we had to submit to a one hour
oral examination by the pastor, in the presence of the entire congregation. All
of us standing in two lines in the middle aisle of the church.
After this ordeal we were asked to
kneel at the altar. Each of us was then required to give an affirmative answer
to the three following questions: For sager du jevelen og aile
hans gjerninger og alt hans wesen?
Tror du pa Gud Fader, Gud son, og Gud den Heilig
aand? Vii du i denne tro
blive bestandig intil enden? After our answer,
"Ja". The pastor would then say "Giv mig den hand of Gud dit hjerte
der paa." Then we were
given our first communion. All of us kneeling at the altar, and as we partook
of the cup, the pastor would repeat to each of us. "Det
er Jesu sande
blod," and when given the bread, to each he
would say: "Det er Jesu sande legeme".
There were no short cuts or easy ways in the days of the early pioneers.
The early settlers, who came from
Norway in 1842, 43, 44, and 45 and built their log homes on the banks of the
Rock River, were religious people of the Lutheran faith. They longed for the
church, and the influence of church services. So as early as 1842 it is
recorded that they met in the woods on Sundays to read their "postils and Bibles", and to sing the old hymns they
knew so well and had sung in Norway. At that time a Swede came among them who
had studied Theology in Upsala, Sweden. He was not an
ordained minister, but he was well educated, so he began to conduct these
Sunday services. The record shows that in 1843, he preached "regularly in
the communities of Rock River and Toland", and
"by 1844, regular services began to be held every 4th Sunday at "Pine
Lake (Stone Bank), Rock River & Toland."
This Swede, Gustave Unonius,
was an Episcopalian. He told these Lutherans, however, there was no difference,
or at least very little, between these two faiths. The early settlers began to
question this. They had not come to America to change their religion. At this
time a Lutheran pastor from Norway, by the name of J. W. C. Dietrickson,
occasionally came to the settlement and he convinced them that they should
remain true to the Lutheran faith of their homeland.
In 1848 the first church was built,
and a call was sent to Norway for a minister. The first regular minister Rev. Nils Brandt, did not come however, until 1851. Muskego
congregation was organized in 1844, and has the credit of being the
"Oldest-Norwegian Lutheran church in America". From the record
related, showing settlement and religious services in the woods at Rock River
in 1842, and regular meetings of Lutheran people in the Rock River congregation
in 1843, there seems to be evidence that St. Luke’s at Rock River, should not
be regarded as the 2nd, but that it should have the honor of being, the oldest
Norwegian Lutheran Congregation in America. Since no regular minister was
available for the St. Luke's congregation, my father had to walk 70 miles to
the Muskego church in 1850, to be confirmed. One of fathers sisters and three
of fathers half sisters, are buried in the old cemetery in front of the church.
Marte Torine,
born in Drangedal, Norway
Kjersti Marie, born in Drangedal,
Norway
Karen Marie, born in Drangedal, Norway
Kjersti Mane, Born
The above four are buried in the two
oldest marked graves. The first Kjersti Marie and
Karen Marie, are buried just in front of the church. Marte
Torine and the 2nd Kjerste
Marie a little to the right. The two oldest marble tombstones, dated 1846, mark
their graves. There may be a few older graves but these are not marked. During
an epidemic the first years, my grandfather and another man, were the only two,
well enough to bury the dead.
Regular services in the old St.
Luke’s Rock River Congregation were discontinued in December 1956. The building
and cemetery have been taken over, and are to be maintained by Our Savior’s Lutheran
Church of Oconomowoc. The building will be kept as a memorial shrine, with an
occasional service of dedication and memory.(*)
This agreement by the St. Luke's congregation and Our Savior’s
congregation was a perpetuation of the memory, hopes, courage, and ideals, of
our early forefathers, who braved the Atlantic and frontier life, and paved the
way for the future state. We are indebted to them, and we hold their memory in
high honor and esteem.
The old "Gunderson or Naas farm", as I have stated was bought by my
grandfather, Gunder Naas in
1858. It consists of 117 acres in the town of Ixonia,
and is bounded on North and West by the Rock River. It therefore has a river
frontage of about three-fourths of a mile. Here my father and mother lived and
worked. My father for 52 years and my mother for 62 years. After my father's
death, my brother Gunder took over, and operated it
until 1941, when his ill health made in necessary for me to take charge. Since
1944 the farm has been under my ownership and direction, on a tenant share
basis or on a monthly cash hired hand basis. I owned all the live stock,
machinery and equipment. In a years time my sales have been as high as 175,000
pounds of milk, 4000 dozen eggs and the sale of around 40 to 50 hogs and small
pigs, besides several calves and old cows. However in the spring of 1957, I
found it nearly impossible to get good and reliable help. So on March 7, 1957,
I sold at public auction all my machinery, and equipment, grain, hay and
silage, 6 brood sows, 250 laying hens and 35 head of cattle. During the 12
years with artificial insemination, I had built up a very good herd of cattle.
The milk of each cow had been weighed regularly once a month. In this way I was
able to dispose of the poor producers. A week before the auction, three of my
cows milked over 60# a day. One 67-1/2#, on 62#, and one 61#. My nephew,
Rolland Rasmussen, who was then taking care of my stock said: "I must cut
down on the feed of these cows, because they more than fill the milking machine
pail, and I am afraid it will clog the milk line". When this was told to
the auctioneer on the day of the sale he said: "Most farmers don't have
this trouble." One of my cows brought $330.00. The auctioneer told me
after the sale, "Your herd brought the highest average of any auction I
have held in Jefferson and Waukesha counties the past year."
I have now placed the farm in the
Soil Bank, and my neighbor rents the pasture and cuts some acres of clover hay
on shares. The farm home is rented. I tell my friends, I do not believe in the
Benson's Soil Bank, but since the Republicans have things to "give
away" I might as well get some of it. Their "give away" to
farmers, however, is insignificant, and can easily be changed by legislation. But
the "give away" of oil reserves, important mineral and forest lands,
and water power sites, to private monopolies, for special gain by a few, is
permanent and a national disgrace. These few remaining natural resources belong
to all the people, and should be retained by them, for all time, and worked and
developed, in the interests and benefit of all.
This important issue has led me off
on a tangent. Now again to the Old Farm. On
Father was kind, but his word was
law. If we asked him for something, or to go someplace and he said
"no", that would end it. There was no use to ask a second time, for
"no", meant "no". There was no word half way between
"no" and "yes" to him. This probably is a lost trait in
parents today, and when I see the behavior of many children, I think it is a
trait that should be recaptured.
Sunday was a day of reverence. No
farm work, only that which was absolutely necessary. In the early years mother
did not want us to play ball, or go fishing on Sunday, and she would pray for
an "eternal Sabbath". As children of course, we thought "what
could be worse than that." Since church services were held only every
third Sunday, father would call us in from play, the other two Sundays and read
a long sermon from the "postil", which had
very little meaning, if any, to us. Yet the memory of this, no doubt, has had
its influence. Sunday, however, was a happy day. Friends and relatives would
come to visit and mother would never have anyone go away without sitting down
for coffee and something to eat.
The little country school was an
important factor in our lives. Father was a strong believer in Public
Education. The school was two miles distant, but, even through rain, snow or
storm, we would get to that school. Even to be tardy was a disgrace. I can
remember no time when I was late. We only had a six months school. The teacher,
as a rule, was not even a high school graduate. We had double desks - two in a
seat. There was no library, or reference books or supplementary readers. The
only books and instruction material belonging to the school, was an old
Webster’s Dictionary, an old Atlas and a small globe and a set of maps. The
pupils had to buy or borrow their text books. Yet, the country schools, of this
nation have been the back bone of our democracy.
I was the seventh pupil to receive
my diploma from this school in 1895. The six others before me were Juila, Winnie and Nellie Owen, Roy and Forest Hastings and
my sister Tina. My sister Nettie received a diploma
two or three years later.
In the summer of 1895, I worked on
the farm near Toland for my brother-in-law, Otto Soleson, for $15 per month. He had a big dairy herd and hog
farm. We worked early and late. One day he and I shocked 10 acres of barley
that yielded 60 bushels to the acre. That was more than two men should do in
two days. I cannot explain to those who have never shocked barley, but the
barley beards will get inside your shirt and trousers, and torture you without
mercy -- and this in the hot sun with the temperatures 90 to 100 degrees. Yes,
this was the hard road to getting an education.
(*) The church was razed in 1973 (Heritage of Ixonia,
Vol I, 1975, p 36)
Nels Gunderson
From "Genealogy and History of
the Nelson Family" 1378-1928 by A G Nelson, Kasson, MN March 1928.
Nels Gunderson aka
Nels Gunderson Naas came to
American at the age of ten with his parents, Gunder
and (step-mother-Asberg Oline
Tykesdatter Naas) Asper Naas Nelson in the spring
of 1845. The trip across the ocean was made in a sail boat called the "Oleous" in seven weeks and two days. This was regarded as breaking all records for
speed up to that time. The trip from New
York to Milwaukee was made by way of the Erie Canal and the Great Lakes. They drove from Milwaukee to the banks of the
Rock River with oxen, a distance of thirty-five miles. Here they chose to cast their lot, and with a
few other early pioneers, they became the nucleus of the Rock River Norwegian
settlement and congregation.
On
Mr. Gunderson was always interested
in schools and in education and was always ready and willing to further any
worthy cause to the full extent of his means and ability. He was a loyal member of the Lutheran church and
was always eager to promote its interests and extend its influence.
He died on
My autobiography - Laurene Rasmussen Mickelsen
[1901-1995]
I was born on a farm six miles out
of Oconomowoc on
Sadly, my mother caught pneumonia
and died when I was three weeks old. She
was 39 years old. Grandma took me home,
and Dad was left with the five boys and a dairy farm to run. The boys had to
learn to do things. Dad baked the bread, sewed little shirts for the boys, and
was both mother and father to them. Aunt
Laura said he made a better buttonhole than she did.
When I was nine months old my Aunt
Ida couldn’t stand my crying night and day (she was pregnant), so my Aunt Ella,
Dad’s sister, took me and treated me as one of her own. (Aunt Ida and Uncle Gunder
lived with Grandpa and Grandma and ran the farm).
Aunt Ella had a big five-bedroom
house. One of her daughters died of
leukemia shortly after I came there.
Later, my aunt had another little girl, a year and a half younger than
I. So we grew up together and had a
wonderful childhood. In the winter, we
played upstairs and played “Big Lady.”
We used to go into the big walk-in
closet and help ourselves to long skirts, shoes, hats, etc., that belonged to
the three older girls. Once I got the
red skirt first, and Inez tried to take it away from me. I fought for it and scratched her cheek with
my fingernail. It bled, so I hid under
the bed. I got a good scolding and they said she might have a scar for
life. I felt terrible.
We played school a lot and
church. I was the preacher. Reminds me
of when my daughter was four - she preached for her minister grandfather,
standing on the footstool, and after she was through, she said, “Now, would you
like to say a little something7.” That
amused Grandpa.
In the summer, we just couldn’t wait
to take off our long underwear and go barefoot.
We loved to go to the big woods and pick spring flowers. We would pick beautiful violets by the
armful. When living in Minneapolis many
years later, I longed to pick violets every spring.
One time I climbed a tree in the
woods and fell down and hit the back of my head on a sharp rock. I went home bleeding, and Inez said, “Oh, Laurene, now you are going to die.” I kept bleeding through the night and my aunt
sat up with me. It just bled in
droplets. I still feel that little bump
in the back of my head.
Another time I was alone in the
woods and I saw an animal staring at me.
I went home and described it and it was a raccoon, of course.
In the fall, we picked up many
hickory nuts. We had a pond on which we
skated. We also went tobogganing on a
big hill and also went skiing. I was a
real tomboy and did everything Harvey and Walden did.
Uncle Johnny bought each of them
bicycles. Walden had a girl’s bike, so
at seven I learned to ride that, as I couldn’t bear to have the boys get ahead
of me.
Inez and I loved to make mud pies
and decorate them. We would dress up the kittens in doll clothes, sit in the
surrey, and pretend we were going on a trip.
We felt we were moving.
We never saw the Christmas tree
until Christmas Eve. Then, after dinner, we would go into the parlor and see
the tree ablaze in candles - real ones.
We went to church after that.
I always wondered how Uncle Johnny
could sit and eat so long on Christmas Eve.
We always had beef ribs, mashed potatoes, vegetables, lefse and rice pudding.
Of course, we also had assorted cookies, such as Norwegian fattigmand, sanbakkels and sugar
cookies. I used to watch my aunt and
Melinda make the lefse on top of the stove.
When I was about seven, I think,
they said Haley’s Comet was coming and many people thought it would be the end
of the world. We were not especially
disturbed. The Bible said it would come
some day. We all went out in the front
yard and watched it.
We would pick wild asparagus that
grew up in the yard in spring. It was
very good.
There were many birthday parties. My cousin Frances had a big one with many
little girls. Her mother had hidden
peanuts (in shells) all over the house and the one who found the most got a
prize. Frances said, “I know where Mama
hid the bag with the rest of the peanuts,” so we helped ourselves and got
caught! That threw us out of the
contest.
We had lovely frosted “store”
cookies at the party, as Frances’ father owned the general store in
Monterey. Reminds me of when I was
perhaps seven and I told Uncle Ellis I had a dollar and wanted to buy seven
Christmas presents. Did I get
bargains! Poor Uncle Ellis went under in
that store, as he had so many deadbeat customers who didn’t pay. Uncle Gibby staked
him so he opened a store in Ashippun, where he did
much better. His customers were mostly
farmers.
Another birthday party I remember
was Toots Ludwig’s. They handed out little booklets with tiny pencils attached
for us to write our answers in. I was so
intrigued with that little pencil with a tassel on it that I took mine home. Did
I ever get a scolding! My aunt said I
should have handed it in! My first
lesson in taking things that didn’t belong to me.
One time I got lost in the
cornfield. I was running up and down the
rows, and I twirled my ring and lost it. When I was eight, I think, I won the
spelldown at school.
We had all grades participate. I received a Japanese cup and saucer.
I used to have big birthday parties
on my birthday. We would roll up the rug
in the kitchen area and dance. Eleanor Corfeldt taught me to waltz and two-step. I think I was eight. Melinda, the oldest
daughter, played the piano for the dancing.
She took piano lessons and became a
good player. I think she taught piano,
too.
We used to stand around the piano
and sing the latest songs plus the old ones and harmonize. We sang many hymns.
We also liked to play Post
Office. We enjoyed lots of games at the
birthday parties.
During the evenings at home we all
sat around the dining room table reading, playing checkers, tiddlywinks or
dominos. Sometimes “Ma” would read Bible stories from our little books. Inez
and I said, “Read about the wedding in Cana.” We liked that. We would cry when we heard
about the people with leprosy in a pit and the men stood above them with Bible
signs. We felt so sorry for them. We
loved to hear the story about Joseph and how he became a great man.
Of course, we all went to church
every Sunday in the surrey. In winter
when the snow was deep we went in the big bobsled with runners. The sermon was so long Inez and I would
sleep. The church was always cold, so we
kept our coats on. We did have a
stove. The men sat on one side and the
women and children on the other.
I remember when Uncle Ellis and his
new wife came they sat together on the men’s side. They were highly criticized. Uncle Ellis’
first wife died when Frances was three, so he married the Monterey
schoolteacher some years later. Her name
was Laura McCorkle. We liked her very
much.
Florence went to Oconomowoc High
School and Uncle Johnny always picked her up and brought her home on Friday
nights. One night the horses ran away.
He gave the horses a good whipping when he got them home. We felt so sorry for the horses and we cried.
Florence went on to the Normal
School in Milwaukee and became a teacher.
She was my teacher for my first year of school. Uncle Johnny was on the school board, so he
did much of the purchasing. The man he
bought from would come at night, and he was impressed at how smart I was. It did my ego good, as everyone praised Inez
for being so pretty. She had milky white
skin, hair that curled and was nice and plump.
I was skinny and freckled, so I never got praised for my good looks, but
I knew I was smarter.
Melinda got married to a neighbor
farmer and had three pretty girls and a boy.
My uncle did not bless this wedding, as the farmer wasn’t
Norwegian. My uncle refused to go to the
wedding. The rest of us all went.
Later, Florence got married to a
Scandinavian of Uncle Johnny’s choice, even though she had loved another boy in
high school. She never disobeyed her
father.
I worried that Uncle Johnny “let the
sun go down upon his wrath”, and I was afraid he wouldn’t go to heaven. However, at Florence1s wedding he shook hands
with Melinda’s husband. I was happy.
When I was ten, my father decided to
remarry. So he married the minister’s
daughter. She was 35 years old. After their wedding, I had to go home to live
with them. I hated to leave Inez and my
aunt, who were so dear to me.
Dad had a four-bedroom house. I had the coldest room, and Dad made me open
my windows every night, as he was afraid of T.B. They called it consumption, and it killed
many people, including several of my mother’s sisters.
My stepmother made me put away my
favorite doll. She said I was too big
for dolls. So I had no one to hug. Dad told me once he didn’t dare show me
affection or “ma” would be mad. She
thought I reminded him of his first wife.
My stepmother could be very nice and
sometimes violent. She used to get “spells” where she would stiffen out and
sometimes foam at the mouth. Dad would
have the doctor come, and he said it was hysteria. She wouldn’t go to Tim’s first wedding, and
when Dad went anyway, she got so mad she threw the heavy milk can off the
porch! I didn’t dare go for fear she
would punish me.
When I was in the eighth grade at
Monterey School, Dad built a new barn.
We had a red round one, but it was too small, as he wanted to expand his
number of cows. He built a much bigger
one that was 100 feet long and painted it gray. Uncle Johnny said, “Why
couldn’t he paint it red like other barns1.”
Dad was very progressive. He had
carpenters and other help while building it, so I had to stay home from school
for four weeks or more to help cook for the men. I was so afraid I might not pass the exams
for entrance to high school. We had to write essays to get in. However, I came through with flying colors.
My brother Vilas was my teacher that
year. Dad wanted him to earn some money
before he went to the UW-Madison. One day I had taken some of my baby sister’s
powder and taken it to school. My cousin
Frances and I put some on to look pretty.
Vilas said, “Now if Laurene and Frances will
go out to the pump and wash that stuff off their faces, we will proceed.” We
were embarrassed to tears.
Our previous teacher was very
strict, and one day Norman was throwing spitballs. She beat him with a yardstick. We all sat there frozen. Her face was purple, she was so mad.
We used to play football at recess
and at
When I was 12, we had to go to
confirmation class every Saturday morning.
Elmer Knutson picked me up in his pony cart with two Shetland
ponies. We had to study for two years
and then we were confirmed. Frances,
Sylvia and I were confirmed at the same time (we were all cousins). Grandma Gunderson furnished our outfits, from
top to bottom. We had lovely French
organdy dresses, made by dressmakers. I
still have mine and can get into it. She
also supplied slips, underwear, shoes and stockings.
The minister had us line up and
asked us questions. I was so afraid he would ask me something I didn’t know.
But all went well.
Grandpa would invite people to come
over for dinner after church. So Grandma
had to go out and cut the head of another chicken to serve. Grandpa always gave me a dollar bill.
One time when the folks were grocery
shopping, my brother Carlyle said, “Let’s taste some of Dad’s brandy that he
has in the medicine chest”. We were
eating crackers and when I took a little glassful I ran outside and lost the
brandy and the crackers! I haven’t
tasted hard liquor since - just wine.
When I was 12, the event of the year
came, as Grandpa and Grandma Gunderson celebrated their 50th wedding
anniversary.
There was a sitdown
dinner on the lawn for about 150 people.
Grandpa’s two half-sisters and three
half-brothers came from Minnesota, as well as his stepmother, who was a dear
old lady.
The minister who married them was
also there, Pastor Brant. Grandma was
given a gold-handled umbrella, and Grandpa received a gold cane head. There were many pictures taken, which I
cherish. My great-uncle Andrew went to
Norway some time later and traced our ancestry back to the 1300s. He had books made up for everyone. My children are the last ones entered. Forty people now live on the estate my
great-grandfather once owned.
My first year of high school I lived
with the Huebner family. They owned and
ran the movie theater. My job was to put
their son Arneford to bed after the first show. We lived a couple of blocks away. We went to the first show every evening and
then I took Arneford home. George and Della were a handsome couple, and
she played piano and George sang while the movie was shown.
I loved it at the Huebner’s and
would go roller skating after supper with the grade school kids. We would go ice skating on Fowler Lake,
too. I was to ask permission if I went
out after dark from my big brother, who worked at the drugstore. One time a boy took me skating and we went to
an ice cream parlor after skating and who should we run into but big brother
and his girl! It was after dark.
My second year was spent at Mrs.
Boomer’s. She ran a room and boarding
house and we girls did all the dishes. I roomed with my cousin Sylvia. We walked downtown to high school and even came
home at
My third year I stayed with my
brother and his wife. She had T. B., so I helped her some. Finally she got so bad that she had to go to
the state sanitarium at Wales. She died
there a year later. She was a beautiful,
kind girl.
I wanted to enter some of the after
school activities, but I felt it my duty to go home and help Marie. However, I was the French maid in the high
school play. I loved dramatics and
wished I could be in all the plays, but Helen Race got to be in many of the
plays, as her father was on the school board and the teachers would favor her
to hang on to their jobs.
My freshman year I took domestic
science, the only thing I ever flunked.
They used to teach us to make oatmeal. Lucia O’Neal (another farm girl)
and I would giggle through the whole thing.
We had been making oatmeal for a couple of years. We thought it was a joke. Dad was quite provoked with me. I took bookkeeping, and I felt I wasn’t doing
as well as I ought. Miss Cooper said,
“Do your best, Laurene; angels can do no
better.” I have always remembered that.
I took German and when I read it I
did so dramatically. Miss Jacobs said, “Laurene, you don’t have to ‘act it out’.” Later, when the war came, we didn’t take
German any more, so I switched to French and studied it for two years.
When World War I came, my two
brothers went to France, as Dave was already in training. Vilas left the “U” and went with
intelligence, had a motorcycle and worked behind the line. Dave was in the big battles. Two of my cousins got shot in the shoulder,
and one of them never really recovered. One of them came home in a casket, and
we had a funeral in the park.
After the war, Dave stayed in France
as an M.P. and fell in love with a beautiful French
girl. Her mother sent us a letter in French, which I could read, saying they had
no money for the “dot” (French for dowry), and she asked questions. We wrote
back in English and told her we didn’t expect any “dot.
My brother was married in France to
this beautiful girl. Her father was the
head of some school similar to St. Olaf. They had a son a couple of years later who
became a doctor. He is now retired in
Florida. Gen spoke English but she and
Dave talked French to each other sometimes.
I understood Dave, but she talked so fast I didn’t always understand
her.
I forgot to tell that when I was 12
my stepmother said she must nurse the baby and that I must get up to start the
fire in the cookstove and make the breakfast of
boiled potatoes, fried pork and more. I
would have to go out to the woodpile to find chips and wood for the fire. One time I used kerosene on the chips, as the
fire wouldn’t start. The water would
freeze on top of the water pail. One of
my jobs was to fill the reservoir at the end of the stove, to warm water for
the dishes. It took several pails.
I was always glad when the wind
blew; otherwise; we had to pump the water for the big water tank for the cows
and horses. I remember when we got the
telephone while at Peterson’s. People would listen in on other conversations
and add their two cents’ worth.
I was so glad when we got
electricity at home, so I didn’t have to wash lamp chimneys. Vilas learned how to install it at the “U”,
so we had it in the house and barn, as well as a yard light. It was a Delco set. Later, the electricity came through, so we
hooked up to it.
We had six cherry trees and Rollin
and I had to pick all the cherries. We
would climb up a ladder and sometimes sit on a limb. My stepmother would make 50 quarts of sauce,
plus cherry jam. I thought if I never
saw another cherry, it would be okay with me.
But, you know I love cherry pie and make it often.
We also had an apple orchard, so we
had to pick apples that Mother canned.
We also had some pear trees. I
said to Dad, “Why don’t we bag some of these apples and take them to town to sell
them’.” But he didn’t bother. There were many trees that made good sauce.
My stepmother had a big vegetable
and flower garden. She loved the outdoors.
She used to like to go to the barn at night and help milk, so I was left
alone in the house to do the dishes. One
time I heard a knock at the window that frightened me. I grabbed Curly, our collie, and started to
run to the barn, but found it was my brother Rollin trying to scare me!
Curly was the kindest dog. She always let the cats eat our leftovers
first, and then she would eat.
We didn’t have indoor plumbing, so
we had to go outdoors, winter and summer, to the privy.
At Peterson’s we had thunder mugs
(used as toilets) under each bed, but I can’t recall having them at home. At
that house we always had a white linen tablecloth, but I think we had a
red-checked cloth at home. Many ate on
oilcloth. My aunt detested that. We also used the 1847 Rogers silver. We also had some bone-handled forks and one
day Inez said, “Let’s put them in a glass of vinegar. ‘ I guess it discolored them.
My aunt always had a switch at the
pump (a small branch of the tree) that our legs would get switched with if we
did something bad. It hurt our dignity
the most.
The year Dad built the new barn was
a busy one. They sawed the lumber for
the barn from our own woods.
My stepmother’s father would come
over from time to time and stay awhile.
He was Reverend O. M. Wilhelmsen. When he was there, I had to give up my room
and sleep in my folks’ room. My Dad cut
the end of the baby crib and let it down on a chair. So that was my bed. It was a spool bed and had been his when he
was a baby.
My nephew has fixed it up and they
used it for their children. It looks
lovely.
Dad was also a cabinetmaker and he made
himself a very nice desk. He also made
my brother’s china cabinet out of our own cherrywood. He had made a miniature chest for my mother
that he gave me. There were some of her
things in the little drawers. These
included a gold box that opened with their pictures in it, and some of her
hair. I never saw it again as Dad sold
the farm when he was 60 and bought a house in Oconomowoc. The house was in the part of town called
“Little Norway,” as many Norwegians lived there, near the church. Tim had his house nearby. Vilas bought a house just a few houses away,
and Dave bought a house in the next block.
My sister later had a little grocery
store in that area and called it “The Little Norway Store.” She wanted to earn money to help send her son
and daughter to college. Her husband was
a bookkeeper at Pabst Farms. They also
built a house in the area. They later
moved up north to Woodruff, where Bob had a job with the hospital, I believe as
comptroller. He loved to fish and hunt, so they loved it up there. My sister Doris married Bob right out of high
school. Dad had wanted to send her to
St. Olaf College, too.
While in Oconomowoc, she was a
foster mother and would also take babies that came from the hospital that the
mothers couldn’t cope with at first. She
later adopted a pretty little girl that she took care of, and also had two
children of her own.
Both of Doris’ children went to St. Olaf (our church school) and Ron went on to become a
minister. Her daughter became a
nurse. Ron went on to school to become a
counselor and worked for some years at a place for drug addicts and alcoholics
in Minnesota. He also would travel and
present papers.
Now we go back to my high school
days that were not too exciting. Inez
roomed with me my senior year. We would
eat our main meal at Helen Knutson’s, near us.
She made the most delicious lemon pies.
I think that year I weighed over 100 pounds.
When I was a junior, Red Frank
invited me to go to the Junior Prom. I
asked Tim if I could go. He said, “Oh
my, you are too little to go to the prom.”
So I didn’t go. My senior year, no one asked me, so my brother took
me. I didn’t have a very good time, as I
didn’t know the modern dances. I only knew how to waltz and two-step. There was a boy there whom I liked, and he
asked me to dance.
In the fall of my senior year,
Carlyle and I got that dreadful flu and were in bed for weeks. Dad came and took care of us and left Rollin
and my stepmother to carry on at the farm.
The doctor sent sputum to Madison, as he feared T.B.,
but it was not.
I remember the night Carlyle had his
crisis. Dad sat up all night and came in
ashen-faced and said, “Carlyle has pulled through his crisis.” I was not as sick as he was. He almost died.
I graduated from high school at the
end of that year and was exempt from exams, so I thought I was pretty
smart. I learned differently when I went
to St. Olaf the next year.
I took advanced geometry, religion,
French and ancient history. I had
trouble in geometry and had to go to a professor for help.
There wasn’t room at the dorm, so I
stayed at a private home down the hill.
There were six of us girls. My
roommate and I still exchange Christmas letters. She is 95 years old. She was a music student and
was in the St. Olaf choir. They went to Norway that year. She later taught music in high school and met
her husband.
We had lots of fun and had snacks in
our rooms at night. I bought many of the treats. I ran up a bill at the Ole store each month for
cheese crackers, cookies, etc.
I had a Hawaiian steel guitar and
ukulele. A bunch of us used to go over
to the Odd Fellow’s Hall and sing and harmonize with our ukes
with the boys who lived next door. They
treated me as a little sister. I told
them that my brother Vilas had told me not to kiss any boys until I became
engaged. They said, “Stick to it.” So I did.
But several tried, as I had a lot of dates. We ate at the boarding house in the basement
of the men’s dorm and boys would ask for dates there. I remember one boy came up to me and said
politely, “May I have an engagement with you this evening, Miss
Rasmussen?” I went and I think we went
canoeing on the Cannon River. It really
was a no-no, but we got by. I went out
several times with a Johnson boy who had been in the Navy.
Some of the boys and cousins would
put a tent near the river on Grandpa’s farm.
I never slept over, as I was afraid of snakes and bugs.
Grandpa always gave me a dollar
every time I came. He would say, “Laurene, you must have a dollar.” One time, I decided to buy cornflakes with
it, as I think they had just come out.
My stepmother said, “Why not buy underwear?” That went over like a lead
balloon, so I bought cornflakes. I sold my brother Carlyle a dish for ten cents. My first sale!
Uncle Nicholas, who went to the “U”,
later became Superintendent of Schools in Prairie du Chien and Sparta. He
invited Frances, Sylvia and me to spend a weekend one time, but my stepmother
wouldn’t let me go. I felt terrible.
I remember one time Dad took me to
Watertown to buy me a winter coat. We
went to the restaurant to eat and I didn’t eat a bite, I was so excited. Dad was annoyed with me, as he had paid fifty
cents for my dinner.
Uncle Nick would play “bear” with us
when we were little. He would put a bear rug on his back and get down on all
fours. We climbed all over him.
I'll never forget the night the
cheese factory burned down. It was a
block or two away from my aunt’s house. The mailboxes were all up there in
front of the factory. We used to take the milk there every morning in the milk
wagon. He made brick cheese out of it.
We always bought a brick from time to time. Someone gave me a puppy and Carlyle dr6pped a
plank on it and killed it! He was so
cute. That’s the only dog I had of my
own.
Uncle Gunder
ran the big farm with hired help. He
worked so hard from morning ‘til night.
I never saw Grandpa take a nap; he just sat in the rocker. He came from the aristocracy in Norway, and
his grandparents didn’t want this six-year-old boy to go to America with all
the wild Indians.
Great-Grandpa was married three
times and my grandpa was from the second marriage. The first two wives died. They came over from
Norway in 1847 by sailboat. They came to
Milwaukee and settled on the bank of Rock River. They bought the land for $800, and had only a
few neighbors.
Their land was among the
Indians. Cholera and malaria were a
constant menace for years. Emigrants
lived all around them, amid sickness, death and hunger. They were crying for assistance. The considerable means my great-grandpa
brought from Norway, where they had a nice home and all the comforts, was
diminished, as their hospitality was well known. Their home was always filled to capacity for
short or long periods.
While Great-grandpa was busy digging
stumps and stones to get the ground ready for cultivating, Great-grandma burnt
the tallow dipper, needle in hand, making clothes for men, women and
children. You could not go to the store
and buy anything ready-made. After
living on the farm for 23 years, Grandpa’s half-brothers and sisters moved to
Minnesota. They came to Kasson.
One year Great-Grandpa and Uncle Ole
were the only ones in the neighborhood to care for the sick and bury the dead,
so the trials of pioneers were severe and extreme. They often came back to visit.
When they came to Kasson,
Great-Grandpa built a home and the rest went to Nelson & Son firm. It was about three years after the Civil War
and prices were on a toboggan. In a few years, the investment was practically
gone.
Uncle Christ had Nelson
Mercantile. Aunt Emma Lord married a
lawyer who became a state senator. Aunt
Mina Holmen’s husband owned a bank in Kasson.
Martha married a Leuthold, who had 20 stores.
I visited at all their homes when I
went to St. Olaf. I remember I was invited to Uncle
Christian’s the Thanksgiving of my sophomore year. I asked if I could bring my roommate, who was
from Oconomowoc. They said sure! We never ate so much - we didn’t eat again for
24 hours. It was a nice change from the
boarding club.
I liked Aunt Mina the best. She told me about Grandpa’s family’ who
didn’t want him to come to America.
They all used to come to visit at
home. One time Aunt Emma and Aunt Mina
stayed at my brother Tim’s house. I gave
them my bed and the bed broke down in the middle of the night. They were tall
and quite hefty. Tim fixed breakfast for
us all the next morning. They took the
name Nelson, but Grandpa chose Gunderson.
Grandpa was the “klocker”
at church. I asked someone what that
meant. Someone said he timed the
minister’s sermon!
After I graduated from high school
in 1919 I went on to St. Olaf in the fall. Dad said I could go there or the
UW-Madison. Vilas told me I would have
more fun at a smaller school. He went to
the “U” to become a lawyer. So of course
I went to St. Olaf
and perhaps had the most carefree and fun life.
I was home sick at first, but if I went home, they would call me a
baby. After I had been home for
Christmas, I never was homesick again. I
was so interested in this boy, I bought him a wide tie for Christmas; not in
vogue.
I told Dad some of the girls got
diamond rings that they wore on their right hands. He said, “A half decent-looking girl should
be able to get a diamond without her father giving it to her.” I said some of the girls had raccoon fur
coats. He said, “Fur coats are for old ladies; warm-blooded young people
shouldn’t need one.”
I was so afraid I would be the
shortest one there, but found Hildy Davidson was
4’10’ and I was 4’113/4”, so I called myself 5’ tall. One of the girls who stayed in the house had
pimples all over her back. My cousin
Vera told me that a girl at her dorm at the “U” had pimples all over her and
had syphilis, so I told Miss Hilleboe, Dean of Women,
and she had her physical moved up. She
left school, as she thought the rules were too strict. She went back to Minneapolis. Dancing was forbidden and we were never to
leave town without permission.
We could folk dance. We did that at the Freshman Party and then
some couples started dancing. One of the
chaperones tapped them on the shoulder and said, “No, no.” Many of the boys went out of town and danced,
but we never dared. But we did go
canoeing, although that was also forbidden, but we never got caught. My husband-to-be went out of town
dancing. If his father knew of it he
would spank him, as he said dancing was nasty.
One of the girls in the house said,
“I want to introduce you to a fellow I think you would like,” so we went ice
skating on the Cannon River in -20 degree weather. This fellow was there. We skated, and he asked if he could take me
home. We first went to the ice cream parlor, and I had a cream cheese sandwich
(cheapest thing on the menu - 15 cents), as I knew he was a minister’s son with
not much spending money.
Dad gave me a checkbook and I spent
a lot, twice what my roommate spent.
They told me once, “You are overdrawn.”
I wrote back, “Don’t tell my
dad.” I would buy clothes and whatever
my heart desired. Dad was getting huge
milk checks. I didn’t realize feed for cattle took money, too. Dad never scolded. I remember middy blouses were in vogue, so I
bought three or four. They were wool and
very pretty, although expensive.
I went home at the end of the year
and stayed with my brother on the farm.
Dad had not sent him on to school.
So Dad gave Carlyle 40 acres of his
farm, on which he built a nice house with three bedrooms. I remember I did a big wash (by hand) and
hung them up outside on a twine clothesline. The twine broke and I ran across
the road and told my cousin Flo. She put them in the
washing machine and did them over for me. She was so kind to me. She was one of the girls I grew up with. Her
husband had been a salesman, but wanted to try his hand at farming. My brother Carlyle said he never became much
of a farmer.
That year I applied to teach in the
school I had attended. I went to Jefferson County and wrote my exams for the
position. So in the fall I became a teacher.
I remember at Christmas I had a nice program with all the parents
invited. I made little outfits,
etc. Four little girls sang “Away in a
Manger”, and one of the fathers thought it was too “churchy”. I had made little fairy outfits and wings for
them.
Once I opened up a lower drawer in
my huge desk and out flew six little pink mice and a much-frightened mother
mouse. I let out a scream and the kids
were much amused. They ran and caught
them.
Then, when I was reading Evangeline
to them, I started to cry. That amused
them, too. I didn’t have much discipline
trouble. I did catch a boy cheating one
day. Was his face red!
Doris and I walked cross-lots to
school many mornings, through cow pastures and under wire fences. We were a little afraid of a bull. Sometimes I drove my brother’s Chevy and
parked it at my aunt’s house. I didn’t
want the kids fiddling with it.
Once couldn’t work out a problem,
and I took it down to an upper grade.
She took a full page to do it. I
could do algebra.
One of the subjects I took my sophomore
year was Botany. I liked it. Professor
Schmidt arranged a picnic for us one Saturday.
I didn’t go, and I guess few went.
I felt so sorry for him, as he almost cried. I had a bad headache that day.
That summer, I found some lovely big
ferns in the woods, but I didn’t know how to mail them to Professor Schmidt, so
I didn’t. I wanted to write him a letter.
That year Micky
and I became engaged. He didn’t buy me a
diamond, but he gave me his high school class ring. We used to walk miles at night. He loved to talk. One in a while we went to a movie and sat up
in the balcony and held hands and hugged a bit.
The night we became engaged, my landlady had given me the use of the
living room and I played piano and sang for him. I sang “A Perfect Day”, “I Love You Truly”
and “With Someone Like You,” all popular at the time. When I finished, he said, “I love you.” I said, “But I’m too young to get married,
and besides I want to become a missionary and go to China.” I belonged to a group that was planning to do
so.
Mickey said, “You can be my
missionary.” Dad hadn’t liked it when I
spoke of becoming one. He said, “You are
too frail to do that. It takes a strong
person to do that. You would be a detriment.”
So I started reconsidering.
I would also enjoy becoming a
kindergarten teacher, as I loved children.
Then Micky kissed me, and I felt it down to my
toes - what a thrill! So we became
engaged1and I was walking on air! After
that, I never flirted with any of the boys.
I was in love.
I had brought Micky
home at Eastertime to show him off to my family. That was before we were engaged, I think. I
stayed at my brother’s and he stayed at Florence’s across the road. She was very impressed with him. She said, 1’He has such fine manners and is
so immaculately clean!” He washed up at
the pump in the kitchen, as there were no washing facilities upstairs. I think Dad liked him, too. Tim thought it was “puppy love”, as he still
thought of me as a little girl. Once a minister’s daughter said to me, “Laurene, I kissed a boy last night. Do you think I’m going to have a baby?” I
said, “I don’t think so,” but I wasn’t sure.
I had studied about osmosis and
thought that might be it. She was a
pretty redhead, but I can’t remember her name.
My roommate became engaged to a friend of Micky’s. We used to stand in the hall and kiss when we
came home from a movie! The door was locked at
It was a beautiful spring, and we
used to walk miles and talk. Micky loved to tell me stories of his childhood. His folks were very strict and if he had been
naughty in school, his father would spank him, but wait until the next morning.
Once his teacher had hit him with a
ruler and he hit her back! His father
was a missionary minister later in Canada. His mother couldn’t stand the
climate up there, so she and Micky came home to
Crookston and lived with her two maiden sisters. They had a rooming house.
The summer Micky
was to be confirmed he lived in Canada with his father. He was confirmed alone at church and really
had to learn his stuff. His father
bought him his first long pants and a suitcoat. His dad had a wheat farm up there and did a
lot of traveling. He lived in the town
of Medicine Hat. He had built this nice
house for Micky’s mother, but she hated Canada - said
it was bad for her heart! I think it was
that they were not compatible, as they were both strong-willed.
It was Micky’s
senior Year, and he was about to graduate.
He said, “Let’s get married.”
Another couple had eloped the year before and he became a famous
preacher. Marriage was forbidden at St. Olaf, but they got by, so we ran off to Faribou
one Saturday morning and were married by a Lutheran pastor there!
Micky said when he applied for a
license. “Have you got something in the
shape of a marriage license?” I
couldn’t help but laugh. We had skipped
morning classes that day, the first time I ever skipped a class. We came home before
Micky had wanted to stay in Faribault,
but of course we couldn’t, as that would let the cat out of the bag. We told no one, as we knew we would be
expelled. I didn’t even tell my roommate. We went over to Carlton College and sat at
Carlton Lake for awhile, but I was dead tired, so we came home. We had been
given ~ certificate and Micky wanted me to take
it. I said, “Goodie might find it.” So he took it home and said he would hide it
under his shirts. We told the newspaper
not to publish the announcement of our marriage, as it was a secret.
Micky lacked a couple of credits, so he
didn’t graduate and had to make them up.
So we didn’t tell anyone we were married, as we were afraid his dad
would send him to summer school. He went
to the UW that summer, and then in August we told everyone. I asked Dad for
some money for wedding announcements. He
was astonished. He said, “I would have
come to see my daughter get married.” My
aunt gave us a big party, with all the relatives. We received many lovely
gifts. My uncle Gunder
“passed the hat” among the men so we could have some spending money. That embarrassed me to tears. St. Olaf was not
satisfied with the credits, so we went back there for a semester and he was to
graduate in spring, as there wasn’t mid-year graduation. We found a tiny apartment, and after we left
there, we went to Crookston and lived with his mother and two aunts for six
months. I worked a little in a furniture
store as a sales clerk.
I got very lonely up there, so my
folks sent me money and I went home for a visit. Micky got a job
selling woolens for the Minnesota Woolen Co.
He went out into the country, so his aunts bought him a used car. They were so kind to us.
Auntie Frances would walk downtown
to get milk to save on a gallon, even though there was a store nearby. She said, “Ten cents here and ten cents there
to save.” She had lovely brown hair and
she loved to have me brush it.
Auntie Trina sewed beautifully and
made me a lovely dress. Florence had
sent me a dress, and Trina took it apart and made me a lovely fitted
dress. She didn’t need a pattern. She had made herself a lovely overblouse from the lining of a coat.
In the fall, we drove down to
Minneapolis and Micky went to the “U” of Minnesota to
take up Pharmacy. He made it in three
years, as he was already a college grad.
It was a four-year course.
Grandpa asked me if I wanted to
become a druggist too, but I said no. He
set us up in a big house near Loring Park. His stepson and his wife were with us. Henry wanted to become a doctor. He was a St. Olaf
graduate. We rented all the upstairs
rooms and Micky and I had a pullout bed in the living
room. Henry and Cyrilla
slept in the dining room, and their little son did, too. We had a large dining area and served an
evening meal to the renters. I helped
with that.
A friend of mine decided to go to
beauty school, so I asked Dad for $50 for the short course. We went to “Madame de Guile’s” and learned to
marcel, as that was in vogue. We would shampoo and work on each other. My hair became like hay, so I took hot oil
treatments to bring it back. A Frenchman
taught me to marcel.
Permanent waving was just coming in, but we didn’t take that. I never worked in a shop, just did some of
the ladies in the rooming house and charged them 50 cents.
That winter I became pregnant, so a
friend of ours who had a big home offered us her third floor (we called it the
attic). Her daughter had lived there
when first married. We had a tiny living
room, dining room, kitchen and half-bath.
We had to go to the second floor for tub baths.
I also did the landlady’s daughter’s
hair. I would send my laundry out wet
wash and hang it up outside in her big backyard. She lived next door to ex-Governor Preuss, so it was a lovely neighborhood. Micky didn’t hang
the laundry to suit her; as he would hang a dishtowel next to underwear. She wanted everything together. She said, “Let me hang it.” She was deaf, so I had to shout at her.
Her husband was a noisy old man and
she said she prayed once that she wouldn’t hear him. She said she guessed she got her wish. They
had 12 children, but only one girl left at home who went to the “U.” She had a crush on my husband and said she
was going to get him! I told her that if
he wanted someone like her, he could have her!
She and her girlfriend had boys running in and out at night! The mother never knew it, as she was so deaf. One son was a doctor in Chicago. He was his
mother’s pride and joy. That winter she
went to visit him. She offered to buy my
train ticket home to travel with her. So
I went for a visit. Dad gave me my
mother’s seal jacket, and it was tight on me.
He said, “Your mother was nice and slim.” I said, “Daddy, I’m pregnant.” He never lived to see my baby. He died that spring, not too long after he
had sold the farm and moved to town.
They had been out to dinner next door at Brent’s and had had a fine
dinner. Dad got sick in the night and
they called Tim, who lived a couple of blocks away, but he didn’t make it. Dad had had angina and a heart condition for
20 years. He told me when I asked him
why he retired so young. He was 60. It was a terrible shock, and I was visiting
my Aunt Alla (with whom I grew up). I remember she screamed when she got the
message. He had helped “the boys”, as he
called his sons, with odd jobs, built a back door stoop for Dave and other
things. He had said, “Come and stay with
us a couple of days, before you go back.”
I had promised to stay with them,
but that never transpired. While at Dave’s, I made him waffles. He said they were just like his mother used
to make.
Vilas settled Dad’s estate. He never had made a will, so my stepmother
got a third, I think, and the house and the rest went to the seven children. I asked Vilas for my share, but he said it
would take awhile. He gave me $50 of his
own, as I was expecting the baby. Mother
Mickelsen paid my hospital bill (two weeks), and I
received many lovely gifts. The doctor
only charged $75, as Micky was still a student.
Carol was born on a Sunday
morning. We went to the hospital at
We went home and I had “Holt’s Baby
Book.” My sister-in-law had given it to
me and I followed it to the letter! It was such fun, as she was such a good
baby. We had found a bassinet on wheels
(ad in paper) for which we paid two dollars.
It was wicker. I scrubbed it up
outside with fear of germs and left it out in the sun until it was very clean.
The basket was removable ~5O we would put her on the back seat in it when we
went to visit Henry and his wife in the evening.
When Carol was seven months, I said,
“Carol, say Henry.” she said, “Henry.”
His eyes almost bugged out!
Besides Andy, had a little girl a year older than Carol, whom I took care
of a lot. They were running an apartment
house, and they had a basement apartment.
Henry went to school during the day, so I sometimes had to go over to
take care of Cyrilla and Gail. I washed diapers for both babies. I also had to fire the big furnace with coal
when Henry was gone. He was there at
night, of course. We would sleep in an
empty apartment.
One time I got sick after being
there awhile. Micky
said they would have to come to our apartment after that, if I was to care for Cyrilla and Gail.
Carol was on a four-hour schedule for nursing. Micky said, “Let’s
change her from 6-10 to
She nursed until she was a year
old. I tried to wean her as per the
pediatrician’s orders. I took her to him
every month and he said she gained just right each month and was a perfect
baby. I don’t remember how old she was
when he put her on cream of wheat or vegetables. I used to strain cooked vegetables.
Our son, Rodney, was born two and a
half years after his sister was born! Micky was still in school, so we borrowed $600 on his
Lutheran Brotherhood insurance policy when he was born. Grandma came and took care of Carol while I
was in the New Asbury Hospital. I was on
a sunporch with seven other women. One of the ladies had her son circumcised
there, so we all had wined.
We lived in a third floor apartment
(no elevator). The doctor said to take
the baby out each day, so I’d wheel him down in his buggy and Carol managed the
steps. We moved over to a house Grandpa
owned and enjoyed it there. It was the
end of the school year for my husband.
He was offered a salesman job for Upjohn Pharmaceutical, but would have
to travel for weeks, so I vetoed that.
My two oldest brothers, who owned a
drugstore in Oconomowoc, were opening up another store in Waukesha in the new
Avalon Hotel. They offered Micky the job of managing it, so of course, we jumped at
the chance. We came home and stayed with
my brothers until we could find an apartment.
We found one in a string of apartments that had two bedrooms up and
downstairs. It was $55 a month. I told
him I hadn’t paid that much in Minneapolis, but he said, “Take it or leave
it.” So we took it, as it was within
walking distance from the store.
We later moved across the street and
we had a lower and my aunt and her daughter had the upstairs of the house. That
was dandy. Inez was a nurse, so she did
much private duty for the wealthy people in town. She went to Europe with an old priest who
wanted to go to Germany before he died.
They also went to Rome and to Florence.
On the boat, she met an Englishman whom she later married. So she moved to California, and her mother
went to live with Florence, an older daughter.
We then moved to a big upper
apartment on
Later, Henry, my husband’s
half-brother, said their mother who lived in Crookston could no longer live
alone. He brought her to us, as he and
his wife worked. He was an x-ray technician,
and she was a nurse. So Grandma came and
lived with us for six months. Then
Grandpa, who had had surgery in Chicago, asked to come and live with us. We had a huge attic to store all the
trunks. Grandma said, “He can’t come
here,” but who better than the father who had put Micky
through college and the University of Minnesota. They were not compatible, but I put up two
beds in the sunroom and Rod slept on a cot in the dining room. What a houseful we had.
Later, Henry and his wife took
Grandma, and Grandpa moved somewhere else.
Grandma ran away in Toledo, so it was decided to put her in the nursing
home and Grandpa went there, too. Grandma died there from a stroke. She didn’t like it there.
Grandpa went to a big Lutheran home
in Minneapolis, where he later died. He
did some preaching there.
I worked in the store some and
later, when the children were in school, I worked when needed. When our full-time girl got sick, I was it
until the school help came on. We had a
big turnover of kids, three of whom became college professors. We were proud of all our “boys.”
We moved from the Avalon Hotel
building over to
He had congestive heart
failure. He spent two and a half months
at the Avalon Infirmary, and I decided to take him home and care for him. The head nurse said, “You can’t do it,” but I
did. He enjoyed life until the last,
when he was hospitalized for a couple of weeks.
We celebrated our 50th wedding
anniversary at church and went on to be married 68 years.
When my youngest granddaughter was
married, she had them play, “With someone like you, a pal good and true, I’d
like to leave it all behind and go and find, someplace that’s known to God
alone, just a place to call our own.”
That was our theme song that we sang the year we were married. She had it played, and we danced alone at her
wedding, at Nakoma Country Club in Madison.
Alfred Otto Rasmussen [1864-1925]
A Tribute to My Father, by Laurene Rasmussen Mickleson
[1901-1995]
My father was born
Dad married my mother, Caspara Torina Gunderson,
When my parents were first married,
they lived on his father's farm. My grandparents fixed up the hen house for
them. We always teased Tim and said he was born in a hen house. Next, Dad and
Mother lived with Uncle Albert, who was a bachelor, until Dad's house was
built. We always called Uncle Albert "Uncle Gibby".
Dad was always on the school board and was also a justice of the peace.
My mother died three weeks after I
was born. That left Dad with a dairy farm, five little boys, eleven to two, and
me. My grandmother took me until my aunt raised me with her children, but he raised
all those little boys, baked the bread, sewed their shirts, and all. I don't
know how he did it! Poor Rollin was only two. I presume the older boys had to
take care of him.
When I was ten he decided to
remarry. Dad married the minister's daughter, Anna. They had taught Sunday
school and sung in the choir at church. They were married in the parsonage on
I was so pleased to have a little
sister. I used to pull' her around in my wagon. She was such a bright little
girl. She wanted to go to school with me, the year I taught country school,
although she belonged in the Monterey school. She got permission to do so.
Doris was a good student and never gave me any trouble. In fact, I never really
had discipline problems, quite different from today. In those days children
obeyed and respected their elders. I taught the year between my freshman and
sophomore years at college.
Dad was quite a cabinet maker. He
made a fine desk for himself, a fine cherry china cabinet for Tim for a wedding
gift with his own cherry wood and he made my mother a delicate, miniature
dresser with drawers and carving. He ceremoniously gave it to me one time. I
moved away, he sold the farm, and I did not get the dresser. It was very dear
to me, as it contained a gold locket with my mother and father's picture and
another one with some of my mother's brown hair. The dresser was all carved,
too.
He was a great dreamer and felt that
you could do anything, if you really applied yourself. Dad had built a round
barn and later wanted to extend his dairy herd, so he built a much bigger one,
one hundred feet long, with the timber from our woods.
Carlyle stayed on the farm, as he
was the best worker, although he would have liked to have become a minister.
Dad sold him forty acres of his farm, and Colly built
a nice three-bedroom house on it and later married the Monterey schoolteacher.
When Dad was sixty, he decided to
sell the farm and move to Oconomowoc, as he had had a heart condition for
twenty years. He bought an old house near Tim's but did not live through the
summer. One night, after having gone out to dinner next door, he had a heart
attack, and Tim couldn't even get there in time. He had been helping the
"boys", as he called his sons, doing odd jobs and fixing things. I
remember he built new steps from the kitchen for my brother, Dave.
All of the boys lived in the part of
town called "Little Norway", as it was near the Norwegian Lutheran
church. Doris and her husband later built a fine house there, too. They later
moved up north to Woodruff.
I remember how Dad and my Uncle Nick
used to argue about predestination and how he and his father-in-law, the
Reverend O. I. M. Wilhelmsen, used to argue about
this. Dad would go out and get the encyclopedia to show he was right. Dad took
a strong interest in politics. He was a great admirer of Lincoln, Teddy
Roosevelt, and La Follete.
Dad made me a sailor dress, and I
remember I was fascinated watching him sew the white braid on the trim. Usually
he sent to Montgomery Ward for my dresses. He taught me to play our
old-fashioned organ. He had taught himself and played hymns. At night we
sometimes played "Authors" and a geography game, naming a place with
the next person naming a state, city, or river with the last letter of the last
word. He bought us a croquet set that we greatly enjoyed. He made me a little
wagon of wood; he even made the wheels of wood! He loved the circus and always
took us when it came to town. He loved the buggy races at the state fair. He
bought his first car, a Buick, when I was twelve years old.
The only grandchild Dad got to see
was Nat, Dave's son, who became a doctor. I had hoped he would get to see my
baby, but that was not to be. Thirteen more grandchildren came after Dad's
death. How he would have loved them all'
I wish I could have shown Dad how
much I admired and loved him. Perhaps he knew, for he was very wise.
Tina Gunderson
Hartford Press, 05 12 1896
Miss Tina Gunderson died in home of
her parents in the town of Ixonia on Wed, May 13, of
consumption, aged 22 years. Daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Nels Gunderson.
Unusually bright and intelligent young lady, dearly
loved by all who knew her. She was a very successful teacher, her last
term having been taught at Toland during 1894-95. She
took a severe cold in the spring of the latter year which developed into
consumption. During her long and severe illness she exhibited a cheerfulness
and fortitude which showed her truely Christian
spirit. Funeral at Norwegian Lutheran Church, Rock River, Rev
Wilhelmson officiating.
Torger Wesley
Translated from 'Nordmændene
i Amerika' by Martin Ulvestad, 1907.
Jefferson County
Pioneer and Civil War veteran, Torger Wesley tells, "I emigrated with my parents from
Gran parish, Hadeland in
the summer of 1848. We were supposed to depart from Hamburg, but when we came
to Drammen, war had broken out between Denmark and
Germany and all passenger traffic from the Scandinavian countries was stopped.
After waiting 7 weeks in Drammen we got passage in a sail
ship to New York. From New York to Albany we went by steamship and from Albany
to Buffalo, we went by canal boat that was drawn by horses. That took all of 6
days. From Buffalo to Milwaukee we continued by steamship, and from the latter,
by horse wagon to the Rock River settlement in Jefferson County. It was not
good here. Within a few weeks, 7 of the family's 9 members became sick and father
was out of money. We got through the winter in a way, but later things got
better."
A large number of Norwegians (some
of whom had come there as early as 1842) moved away from the Rock River
settlement. (The aforementioned T. Wesley now lives in Garfield, Portage Co.,
Wis.)
Since I am talking about the old
settlements here, I should refer the readers to the section 'Norwegians in
American Wars.” There one will again
find these pioneers - while their children, in newer settlements elsewhere in
the book.
At the end of the 40s a Norwegian
Lutheran congregation was established in Jefferson County and several were
established later, none of them exist now. There is a little Adventist
congregation; that is all. But, in the neighboring counties, it is quite different.
Kroghville Post Office, which has gotten its
name from Norwegians, was closed a long time ago.