I usually pay little heed to the idea of New Year's resolutions. I've never been much for making or adhering to lists. I just can't seem to get organized enough, preferring to rely on my intuition instead. But, things seem to happen somehow.In 2008, my plan is to:
Advent Calendar, December 21: Music
After World War II, Montgomery Ward had become the third-largest department store chain. In 1946, the Grolier Club, a society of bibliophiles in New York City, exhibited the Wards catalog alongside Webster's dictionary as one of 100 American books chosen for their influence on life and culture of the people. The brand name of the store became embedded in the popular American consciousness and was often called by the nickname "Monkey Wards," both affectionately and derisively.
In the 1950s, the company was slow to respond to general movement of the American middle class to suburbia. While its old rivals Sears, J.C. Penney, Macy's, and Dillard's established new anchor outlets in the growing number of suburban shopping malls, the top executives thought such moves as too expensive, sticking to their downtown and main street stores until the company had lost too much market share to compete with its rivals. Its catalog business had begun to slip by the 1960s...
--Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Montgomery_Ward
Santa was in the store, of course, but after several unsuccessful attempts to get my sister to sit on his lap, Mom gave up. Becky was terrified by certain things, and one of them just happened to be Santa. Santa Claus in storybooks was a grand idea, but the reality of Santa-in-the-flesh was just too unsettling. I am reminded of a time when Becky was about three years old and Mom came home with new, dark-rimmed glasses. Oh, how Becky screamed and screamed - she was inconsolable! Poor Mom had to schedule another appointment and select something a bit less scary. You would never think that my sister, as a grown woman, would be into horror movies and collectibles, now would you?
When the tour of the toys was completed and any grumbles had been quieted, Mom took us to look at clothing - the huge, dubious wasteland that made up most of the department store. That was Dad's cue to sneak back to the toy area and buy what Mom had instructed. I always knew what was happening, but it was more fun to pretend that I didn't.
Mom struggled to keep my sister in tow while searching for the perfect flannel shirt for Grampa, the tights Becky needed to match her cute holiday dress, or linens for Aunt Mabel. Afterwards, we all piled back into the station wagon for the drive home, grateful to be in the cool, evening air once again. The purchased gifts were secretly stowed in the back of the wagon, safe in the dark from prying eyes and distanced from curious fingers.
While Mom and Dad recovered from sticker shock and the stress of another holiday buying expedition, the family headed home to the little white stucco house with red wood shutters in the Richmond Annex. We all anticipated another happy Christmas, but, we had made Montgomery Ward even happier, I'm sure.
"The Christmas Song" was written by Mel Torme and Bob Wells in 1944 during a blistering hot summer. It was first recorded by Nat King Cole in 1946, and his 1961 version remains a favorite today, even though the carol has since been recorded by many artists, including: John Denver, Glen Campbell, Kenny Rogers, Doris Day, Ella Fitzgerald, Perry Como, Frank Sinatra, Stevie Wonder, Barbra Streisand, the Jackson Five, James Taylor, The Supremes, Chicago, The Lettermen, Natalie Cole, Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, The Carpenters, Trisha Yearwood, New Kids on the Block, Twisted Sister, Charlotte Church, Al Jarreau, Whitney Houston, and, whew! Well, there are a lot...
Source: Wikipedia
Advent Calendar, December 10: Gifts
She also saved prescription bottles--clear plastic back then--and made little angels or elves using bits of paper, pipe cleaners, tiny styrofoam balls, sequins, and angel hair. Once the figures were glued into the bottle and a hook was attached to the lid, they made unique Christmas tree ornaments.
- Use an oval bar of soap as the body for your "fish." SweetHeart soaps were traditionally used for this craft because of their light, sweet scent, and they can still be purchased at The Vermont Country Store.
- Cut a large square of pastel-colored netting; position it around the soap and tie the ends together with a small strip of netting to make a fan-type tail.
- Take four hat pins with elongated pearl tips; place other shiny or pearlescent beads on the hat pin to fill up about 2/3 of the pin. Stick all four hat pins into the bottom of the soap (through the netting), and position them apart at outward angles, creating four "legs" for the fish to stand on.
- Using three more hat pins (decorate those with extra beads, too), insert them at an angle into the top edge of the soap to create a "fin." You'll want to graduate the lengths: the longest pin should be closer to the head of the fish, while the shortest should be placed closer to the tail. You may also use hat pins, or extra netting, on each side of the fish to create side fins.
- A heart-shaped red sequin should be pinned to the front of the soap for a mouth (use a small-head sewing pin).
- An eye (one on each side of the soap) can be made from a small shiny black sequin pinned onto a larger, silver flower-shaped sequin. Once again, pin them together, on the fish, using a small head sewing pin.
Is your fish standing level? Does it have eyes, a mouth, a tail, and fins? Then, voila, you have it, a vintage Christmas craft. Place it on a bathroom shelf and watch the child in your life--or the child in you--smile.
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| This is one of my family's favorite photos of my "Grampa" (Ernest Johnson), wearing his characteristic flannel shirt and argyle socks. Christmas, early 1960s, in Salem, Oregon. |
Robert Bly, an American icon now in his 80s, was born in Minnesota to Norwegian-American parents, and attended St. Olaf College and Harvard. His poetry illicits movement and hidden possibilities, like harvest soil crumbling rich through the fingers or crystalline sapphire waters surging at the head of the Mississippi.
Time machine image courtesy of Danny Cardle, artist and creator of Visual Engineering
Forget for a moment, if you will, about asking if a time machine is plausible, or just plain crazy. Forget the fact that Santa can't possibly fit it into my stocking. Shoot, he probably can't even fit it into his sleigh.
I'm not really asking for much. It doesn't even have to go into the future: we'll leave exploration of that to genealogists and historians who will come later on. I just want to be able to travel purposefully and selectively into the past, as any historian dreams about.
Oh, the people and the sights I would see! The questions I would ask! The notes I would take! A time machine would provide hour after hour of useful entertainment. It's such a good idea for a present... so, well, educational.
For starters, I'd like to go back to about 1917 and meet my grandmother at just the time when she was tying the knot with Grampa. "Howdy-do," I'd say. "I'm your long, lost granddaughter. And by the way, lay off that cow's milk, will you please?"
If Grandma hadn't drunk cow's milk, she probably wouldn't have gotten T.B. If Grandma hadn't caught T.B., my mother wouldn't have been orphaned so young, and perhaps she wouldn't have been left with such a complex, and maybe (just maybe), I would have gotten yelled at a little less. I'm kidding of course. Mom's done a fine job, but I sure have missed the particular pampering of a grandmother all these years, not to mention the extra Christmas cookies and overnight stays.
All I want is one basic, easy-to-use time machine. I'll clean and oil it regularly, and make regular insurance payments... promise.
"I"m going to clam up, for the simple reason that if I say that I know them, they're going to be tarred as Communists, and they'll be hounded and harassed, and I'm not going to have that happen to any of my friends, or anybody that signs anything or is associated with me in any way."
About 11 o’clock [on January 7th] the sky became cloudy, and by noon it began to snow and blow and shortly a big storm came up, making every object invisible. Stranded were 35 men who had come for the meeting in the one-room log house of Ole Anderson with the wife and children, 38 in all. The storm got worse and very cold. Luckily a few days before Mr. Anderson had been in New London and purchased a sack of flour and a gallon of syrup. They made [mush] which they lived on for 2-1/2 days.
The chopped wood gave out and the wood pile was completely covered [with snow]. Near the house was a pile of wood rails, so the men made a line from the door of the house with Mr. Anderson at the end. This made a line long enough to reach the pile. One by one they handed the rails to each other until they had enough to hold out.
Pastor Edward Eriksen was there and had devotions every day. When the first night came, the bed was given to [Mr. Anderson's] wife and children. A big, brown woolly dog had come with one of the members. It also had to come in the house during the storm. Pastor Eriksen, who thought of occupying the place under the bed, had the dog as something warm to sleep by. The postmaster of Wegdahl also crawled under with them, and slept with the rest of them on the floor. Every few hours they would change off so all could get some sleep.[2]
On the third day, the storm let up at about four o'clock. No one was allowed to leave alone. In small groups, homesteaders and farm hands helped each other to get home. At one farm, cattle had to be dug out of their stalls before they could move at all. At another, a man was helping shovel snow when he uncovered a rooster, which promptly jumped out of the snow and crowed in relief.
Although Bertina Johnson may have been fortunate enough to have some family members at home when the blizzard struck, many neighbor women could not have been equally as lucky. If thirty-five men were stranded at the cabin of Ole Anderson, it meant that nearly as many local families awaited the return of the head of the household after the storm. As it often happened, pioneer women were required to fend for themselves and use their own wits and strength to protect their children, elders, and livestock during disasters.
Lars Eriksen Winje, Bertina Johnson’s soon to be father-in-law, was probably among the men stranded at the Anderson farm during the blizzard. Lars Winje was a charter member of the Wegdahl Norwegian-Danish Evangelical Lutheran Church, first organized in 1870. There were 99 Norwegians, 16 Swedes, and 2 Danes (25 voting members and 115 persons) making up the initial membership.
Among the initial tasks of the church’s charter members was to determine where to locate a permanent church and cemetery. They decided on 80 acres on County Road No. 6, along the south edge of Leenthrop Township in section 31, bordering Granite Falls Township. The Chicago and Milwaukee Railroad donated ten acres of land to the community, and the remaining 70 acres were purchased for $650.00.
In 1886, the existing Saron Lutheran Church, a gleaming, gothic chapel, was built at a cost of $4,750.00. The church’s initial framework was later damaged during a windstorm, so the height of the steeple was lowered a bit during the rebuilding. The cemetery went into use soon after the land was secured.[3]
Saron Lutheran Church, Chippewa County, Minnesota, from a postcard, ca. 1900. Johnson Family Collection.
All four sets of my maternal great grandparents met during the early settlement years of Chippewa County, and many relations are buried at Saron Lutheran Cemetery. As a family historian, I can't help but ponder just how many of their stories, whether spectacular, humorous, poignant, or mundane, could have been preserved. Instead, many details have filtered down through generations of family lore, and have since slipped into the dark whirlpool of unrecorded history, much to the dismay of those, like me, who long to know.
From "Waves of Grass," Chapter 3 in "A Long Way Downstream: the Life and Family of Thibertine Johnson Winje, Norwegian-American Pioneer," by Chery Kinnick.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
[1] The Midwest blizzard of January 1873: Tvedten, Lenny, “Blizzards in Martin County,” Martin County Historical Society. http://www.co.martin.mn.us.mchs/pages/art_blizzard.htm (accessed 15 January 2006).
[2] Saron Lutheran Church annual meeting and the experiences of attendees during the blizzard of 1873 are described in: Christianson, Mrs. John. Our First 100 Years: 1870-1970. Chippewa County, Minnesota: Saron Lutheran Church, 1970, 7.
[3] Details about the Wegdahl Norwegian-Danish Evangelical Lutheran Church and the building of Saron Lutheran Church is described in Christianson, Our First 100 Years: 1870-1970.
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| Phyllis Johnson (left) and Doris Johnson (middle), shelling pease on the kitchen stoop with their grandmoterh, Malla Larson Johnson. The family dogs are Cubby and Teddy. Leonard, Clearwater County, Minnesota, 1938. |
All excerpts are from "Clearwater Days," Chapter 7 in "A Long Way Downstream: the Life and Family of Thibertine Johnson Winje, Norwegian-American Pioneer," by Chery Kinnick.ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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| Becky (Boo Boo) and Chery, 1961. Richmond, California. |
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| Dad (Bill Wheeler) and his turkey. Thanksgiving Day, 1965, El Cerrito, California. |
...Tonight is the night to revel it up a little with the East Bay chapter of the Hungry i, Purple Onion and Opus I. If you are considered avant garde in your circle--this is aimed as a direct suggestion. Buzz Wheeler at the piano, Gene Duncan's "Jericho" and Carol Frances are all people to go home talking about. Nightly except Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday.
Description from the back cover:
Situated in the Cascades about 50 miles east of Seattle, Snoqualmie Pass is intersected by the most heavily used route connecting eastern and western Washington. In the 1800s, use of the old Native American trail by explorers, cattlemen, and miners created a need for a wagon road. A railway and highway followed, and Snoqualmie Pass quickly developed into an all-season recreational paradise with over a half million visitors annually. Known for easy access to snow sports and the Alpine Lakes Wilderness area, nighttime ski operations, and the world-famous terrain of Alpental, Snoqualmie Pass is also a community of neighborhoods with both full-time and part-time residents who share a unique mountain lifestyle.
The Images of America series celebrates the history of neighborhoods, towns, and cities across the county. Using archival photographs, each title presents the disctinctive stoies from the past that shape the cahracter of the commuynity today. Arcadia is proud to play a part in the preservation of local heritage, making history available to all.
