Albert O. Johnson
(My Father)
My father was born in Bowllus, Minnesota in the year of 1887. His mother gave birth to Albert on June 16 to be exact, in a log cabin in a less than civilized part of north central Minnesota.
His parents had settled there when they immigrated from Hulland, Sweden. Albert was the middle child of eight siblings. He early learned to fend for himself. Although the family was a very caring family, Albert still had to learn from the “school of hard knocks”.
With the encouragement of his caring mother, Albert soon learned to care for the animals and help with the chores. Binging in the fire wood was one that brought a lot of satisfaction and reward. He had helped his dad and older brother cut and split the wood. And as the mound of split wood grew he was warmed by the thought of how much he was going to enjoy the extra heat from the kitchen stove.
Most families didn’t have a heating stove, but used a stone or stick chimney with a fireplace. Unless you were careful the chimney could catch fire and one would loose the whole house contents and all. Fortunately for Albert, a relative had been instrumental in showing the family the just how to construct the chimney so that it would not catch fire.
Using clay found in the area, the inside of the chimney was lined and relined as necessary to keep any contact with the actual fire. To have a stove just for heating was a luxury they didn’t have. The kitchen served as the dressing room on those cold mornings.
The long homemade knit woolen undergarments he wore were not only a bit scratchy, but when they were washed each week they seemed to become more and more uncomfortable. It could have been the home made soap his mother used for washing those preferred garments. He gritted his teeth and toughed it out. He warmth was more vital than the discomfort, so the scratchy undergarments remained.
In the winter the snow piled high over the whole area. Housing almost disappeared under mounds of snow. Smoke curls could be seen rising out of seemingly deserted areas. This was the only indication that there was any life. Occasionally a figure could be seen following a path of sorts to or from some outbuilding. The frigid outhouse was the most popular visiting spot on the landscape. It was a necessity but visits were always very short and certainly put off until most necessary. The often drafty little buildings were not the elegant accommodations found in any modern homes of today.
There was no snow plow to clear the roads, nor were there any cars to travel those roads. During the winter when the ground was frozen the family used a sledge or sleigh to skim across the crusted snow. When fully frozen the snow easily held the horses and sleigh from sinking. At a minus twenty to sometimes forty five below zero, the cold was intense. This was Minnesota and what else could you expect. They had settled here because this was very familiar to the home country they had left behind in Sweden.
The outings to town were not frequent and every trip was something to be anticipated and dreamed about. No one wanted to put the horses through such an ordeal unless absolutely necessary.
The horses had to be “dressed” for the occasion too. Not only were they to give the appearance to being well cared for, they actually had to have blankets to keep them warm once they arrived at their destination. In summer these thin coverings had long fringes on them to keep the flies away, but in winter the coverings were of thick wool felt. These were carried along and put on the horse when they were stopped for a length of time. This conserved body heat and kept the perspiration from freezing on the hair of the horse. With the extra grain brought along and the extra warm blanket the horses faired quite well. The farmers looked after their animals, they had to. The horses were part of their survival and livelihood. A sick or ailing horse was of not much help to a struggling farmer.
The day of the adventure would arrive and dad was up early to take care of the few cattle they had and tend to details of things his mother required of him.
Sometimes the whole family would dress up and go to town. This was more than just a shopping trip, this was going to town and you always wore your best outfit for such. Even dad was supposed to wear what others thought, was appropriate attire for the occasion.
When his face was scrubbed clean, fingernails checked and the unruly cowlick plastered down, he was finally ready to leave. Of the eight children Albert was always ready first. His energy sometimes got him in trouble but not when going to town. He had grown up knowing that promptness and punctuality were of utmost necessity to his happy survival and endearment to the other family members.
In winter the sleigh was warmed with hot bricks from the oven wrapped in quilts and blankets. These were put into the vehicle at the latest possible moment. In fact many of them were carried by those going to occupy the seats. These bricks were placed under foot to keep the feet warm thus warming the whole body.
A large buffalo robe was provided to stave off the cold. This robe was made from the actual hide and hair of a buffalo. The hide had been tanned by Albert’s father and Albert’s mother had lined the hide with a spring green wool felt with a hand worked trim. Little Albert often would hunker down under the robe finding a very warm spot and let others brave the cold winds. Hoods, hats, gloves, overshoes, and extra coats were a necessity even with the buffalo robe the intense cold would seep in around any small opening.
Usually the shopping adventure resulted in the girls getting to buy some material for a new dress if needed or material for the boy’s cloths. Albert’s mom made all the clothes with the help of the five grown girls. Each was accomplished in making do, which meant that older dresses were made over into smaller dress for younger girls or into snow pants for the boys. Every thing was used and nothing thrown away. Even the suits that were beyond repair were cut into shapes that resembled bricks in size. These were crocheted together to make colorful comforters and throws for the home. Many survived for years until they were out of fashion or the household was just plain tired of them. They were then folded and placed in trunks for some future generation to discover.
Albert’s farm home was not a long distance from town, just a mile. When you think of a mile today it is a very quick little trip to the store for something forgotten. Then, however, it was a major accomplishment to savor and plan for perhaps weeks or even longer. Life revolved around family, not only of necessity but of reality as well.
On one occasion my dad recalled that often he had been picked on at school. It was survival of the fittest in those early days. Dad was not a large person, standing less than six feet when he grew to maturity. What he lacked in stature he made up in being quick on his feet. He never backed down from a fight but then always tried to avoid such encounters. He dad had always told him, “Never pick a fight, but if you fight, fight to win.” He must have won often enough because I never remember him telling of many fights. Then too, he was a quiet man and didn’t often recount many encounters of his early life.
One encounter I found out in later years was an unusual encounter with three rowdy school rascals that would not leave him alone. One day when returning home from school the three rascals waylaid him. He was not far from home and his mother could see him coming. She always watched for his return. She prided herself in his self possessed assurance/confidence. She could see that there were others that followed Albert, determined to throw him into the snow bank. Not only was the snow bank difficult to get out of but with the extra clothing swimming in the dry snow was challenging as well. It was a delightful misadventure to be so caught by one obstinate schoolmate but with three it was almost an impossibility to come out on the winning angle.
Dad was quick and soon had the first runner head first in the snow bank with two still close at his heals. It wasn’t long before number two was also into the soft snow swimming to get free. It didn’t a great deal of maneuvering for Dad to swing into action on the third and last troublesome youth and have him encased in snow.
What was not evident was the little lady standing in the door of her home urging Albert on. Her swinging arms mimicked those actions of her son as he ditched the unruly school chums into the snow. If he could only have heard her challenges to the boys that taunted her son.
Not only was my dad smaller but was much younger then those picking on him. As is often the case, those that pick on others do so because they feel superior or can get away with it. One must either call their bluff or bluster into the situation head on, putting a stop to it. As I recall the story, after this incident the boys no longer picked on him but actually respected the “little Swede”.
We all must face our challenges weather they be mental or physical. If we take the challenge to face these situations, we have a much better chance of changing the course of our lives and as a side bar better our lives as well. Sometimes confrontations are necessary, but always leave a way of escape. Resolving issues is important but keep your perspective well in mind.
(My Father)
My father was born in Bowllus, Minnesota in the year of 1887. His mother gave birth to Albert on June 16 to be exact, in a log cabin in a less than civilized part of north central Minnesota.
His parents had settled there when they immigrated from Hulland, Sweden. Albert was the middle child of eight siblings. He early learned to fend for himself. Although the family was a very caring family, Albert still had to learn from the “school of hard knocks”.
With the encouragement of his caring mother, Albert soon learned to care for the animals and help with the chores. Binging in the fire wood was one that brought a lot of satisfaction and reward. He had helped his dad and older brother cut and split the wood. And as the mound of split wood grew he was warmed by the thought of how much he was going to enjoy the extra heat from the kitchen stove.
Most families didn’t have a heating stove, but used a stone or stick chimney with a fireplace. Unless you were careful the chimney could catch fire and one would loose the whole house contents and all. Fortunately for Albert, a relative had been instrumental in showing the family the just how to construct the chimney so that it would not catch fire.
Using clay found in the area, the inside of the chimney was lined and relined as necessary to keep any contact with the actual fire. To have a stove just for heating was a luxury they didn’t have. The kitchen served as the dressing room on those cold mornings.
The long homemade knit woolen undergarments he wore were not only a bit scratchy, but when they were washed each week they seemed to become more and more uncomfortable. It could have been the home made soap his mother used for washing those preferred garments. He gritted his teeth and toughed it out. He warmth was more vital than the discomfort, so the scratchy undergarments remained.
In the winter the snow piled high over the whole area. Housing almost disappeared under mounds of snow. Smoke curls could be seen rising out of seemingly deserted areas. This was the only indication that there was any life. Occasionally a figure could be seen following a path of sorts to or from some outbuilding. The frigid outhouse was the most popular visiting spot on the landscape. It was a necessity but visits were always very short and certainly put off until most necessary. The often drafty little buildings were not the elegant accommodations found in any modern homes of today.
There was no snow plow to clear the roads, nor were there any cars to travel those roads. During the winter when the ground was frozen the family used a sledge or sleigh to skim across the crusted snow. When fully frozen the snow easily held the horses and sleigh from sinking. At a minus twenty to sometimes forty five below zero, the cold was intense. This was Minnesota and what else could you expect. They had settled here because this was very familiar to the home country they had left behind in Sweden.
The outings to town were not frequent and every trip was something to be anticipated and dreamed about. No one wanted to put the horses through such an ordeal unless absolutely necessary.
The horses had to be “dressed” for the occasion too. Not only were they to give the appearance to being well cared for, they actually had to have blankets to keep them warm once they arrived at their destination. In summer these thin coverings had long fringes on them to keep the flies away, but in winter the coverings were of thick wool felt. These were carried along and put on the horse when they were stopped for a length of time. This conserved body heat and kept the perspiration from freezing on the hair of the horse. With the extra grain brought along and the extra warm blanket the horses faired quite well. The farmers looked after their animals, they had to. The horses were part of their survival and livelihood. A sick or ailing horse was of not much help to a struggling farmer.
The day of the adventure would arrive and dad was up early to take care of the few cattle they had and tend to details of things his mother required of him.
Sometimes the whole family would dress up and go to town. This was more than just a shopping trip, this was going to town and you always wore your best outfit for such. Even dad was supposed to wear what others thought, was appropriate attire for the occasion.
When his face was scrubbed clean, fingernails checked and the unruly cowlick plastered down, he was finally ready to leave. Of the eight children Albert was always ready first. His energy sometimes got him in trouble but not when going to town. He had grown up knowing that promptness and punctuality were of utmost necessity to his happy survival and endearment to the other family members.
In winter the sleigh was warmed with hot bricks from the oven wrapped in quilts and blankets. These were put into the vehicle at the latest possible moment. In fact many of them were carried by those going to occupy the seats. These bricks were placed under foot to keep the feet warm thus warming the whole body.
A large buffalo robe was provided to stave off the cold. This robe was made from the actual hide and hair of a buffalo. The hide had been tanned by Albert’s father and Albert’s mother had lined the hide with a spring green wool felt with a hand worked trim. Little Albert often would hunker down under the robe finding a very warm spot and let others brave the cold winds. Hoods, hats, gloves, overshoes, and extra coats were a necessity even with the buffalo robe the intense cold would seep in around any small opening.
Usually the shopping adventure resulted in the girls getting to buy some material for a new dress if needed or material for the boy’s cloths. Albert’s mom made all the clothes with the help of the five grown girls. Each was accomplished in making do, which meant that older dresses were made over into smaller dress for younger girls or into snow pants for the boys. Every thing was used and nothing thrown away. Even the suits that were beyond repair were cut into shapes that resembled bricks in size. These were crocheted together to make colorful comforters and throws for the home. Many survived for years until they were out of fashion or the household was just plain tired of them. They were then folded and placed in trunks for some future generation to discover.
Albert’s farm home was not a long distance from town, just a mile. When you think of a mile today it is a very quick little trip to the store for something forgotten. Then, however, it was a major accomplishment to savor and plan for perhaps weeks or even longer. Life revolved around family, not only of necessity but of reality as well.
On one occasion my dad recalled that often he had been picked on at school. It was survival of the fittest in those early days. Dad was not a large person, standing less than six feet when he grew to maturity. What he lacked in stature he made up in being quick on his feet. He never backed down from a fight but then always tried to avoid such encounters. He dad had always told him, “Never pick a fight, but if you fight, fight to win.” He must have won often enough because I never remember him telling of many fights. Then too, he was a quiet man and didn’t often recount many encounters of his early life.
One encounter I found out in later years was an unusual encounter with three rowdy school rascals that would not leave him alone. One day when returning home from school the three rascals waylaid him. He was not far from home and his mother could see him coming. She always watched for his return. She prided herself in his self possessed assurance/confidence. She could see that there were others that followed Albert, determined to throw him into the snow bank. Not only was the snow bank difficult to get out of but with the extra clothing swimming in the dry snow was challenging as well. It was a delightful misadventure to be so caught by one obstinate schoolmate but with three it was almost an impossibility to come out on the winning angle.
Dad was quick and soon had the first runner head first in the snow bank with two still close at his heals. It wasn’t long before number two was also into the soft snow swimming to get free. It didn’t a great deal of maneuvering for Dad to swing into action on the third and last troublesome youth and have him encased in snow.
What was not evident was the little lady standing in the door of her home urging Albert on. Her swinging arms mimicked those actions of her son as he ditched the unruly school chums into the snow. If he could only have heard her challenges to the boys that taunted her son.
Not only was my dad smaller but was much younger then those picking on him. As is often the case, those that pick on others do so because they feel superior or can get away with it. One must either call their bluff or bluster into the situation head on, putting a stop to it. As I recall the story, after this incident the boys no longer picked on him but actually respected the “little Swede”.
We all must face our challenges weather they be mental or physical. If we take the challenge to face these situations, we have a much better chance of changing the course of our lives and as a side bar better our lives as well. Sometimes confrontations are necessary, but always leave a way of escape. Resolving issues is important but keep your perspective well in mind.
-16.jpg)
No comments:
Post a Comment