Lisa Klungseth's Journey to the United States and a New Life - Part 3 of 3

In Part 2, Lisa's train was just coming into Minnesota at nightfall: 

Now it is dark and I cannot see anything. It is raining and I am waiting eagerly for time to go by. I sat and thought about how strange it was that Adolf could not come to meet me before this. When we got to Brookings – two hours before Huron – I went out to the corridor to get some air. Two men with long visors on their caps came in. I didn’t pay any attention to them. Then suddenly I heard someone say “Lisa.” It was A. who had taken the bus to meet me. He was as happy as a little boy to see me again. We talked as acquaintances then, but then when I saw the gleam in his eye, I recognized him again. When we got to Huron we took a car trip around the town and had a long talk. We would go to his place in Huron and be there for the night because he had to be at work at 5:00.

When we got into the house I got the surprise of my life. He had not been there for three weeks and it was completely terrible. It was two railroad cars which stood together, making a square. The windows had been broken by hailstones and the sand had come in. There was no place where you could sit. It smelled like manure and tar because there was tar paper nailed over the holes. There was nothing to clean with and I used a roll of toilet paper to take off the worst. My head was aching from all the traveling and I wanted both to throw up and to sleep. There was nothing of that to do. I had a wish to leave because the dirty mess was the worst I knew. Adolf didn’t really know what we should do. I had a desire to drive out to the farm, but for his sake I stayed. He had bought a light-blue nightgown which would have fit my mother. I had joked with him and written that I was as heavy as my mother and he had believed it. We slept very little, because it didn’t take very long before the alarm clock went off and he went to his job. I laid down and slept and made a kind of meal at 10:00. When he came home at 12:30 he was done and then we drove around the town. I did not like Huron. One must be familiar with the town before one likes it there. I was really anxious to come out to the farm. We got there at 6:00 in the evening. I received a hearty reception from Janice, Barbara and Everett. They had cooked a chicken, really good food. Adolf had kept rockets from the Fourth of July and we had a big party that evening. I warmed up Norwegian chocolate and we ate cream and cakes.

The days which came afterwards were completely different than what I had thought. The children had taken care of the house by themselves for three years. There were no decent places other than the kitchen, and everything was very messy. One room had been used only for storage. That room I decided to use for a bedroom. We were agreed that we should be married August 3, and there was a lot that had to be done first. I cleaned and tidied the house for three weeks. We talked with the pastor, ordered cards and sent invitations to 70 people. We hardly slept. We worked, talked and joked as a couple of youngsters.

We planned to get married at the American Lutheran Church at 1:00 and eat lunch at a hotel at 2:00. Mary and Ove with their family came to Yale in the morning. I was so anxious that Magda and Lars would get there. Yes, at 10:00 they came with two children. We were so happy to see each other. I rode with Magda to the church. She and Lars were our attendants. Early that morning I had to get up and clean the outdoor toilet because the hens had been there.

When I got to the church there were flowers for me from Adolph. There was one flat bouquet for a corsage, a small one for my hair and one for the table. I got a large bouquet from Anna and Kristian. We put that on the table with a Norwegian flag in the middle.

We had 62 guests and many gifts. The lunch consisted of ham sandwiches, a piece of cake, a piece of pie, coffee and wedding cake. We had grape wine with which to skål, only one glass for each person.

Oluf was toastmaster and there were many speeches. After the meal Mary, Amanda and I packed up the gifts and then we walked around and visited with all the guests. At 5:00 we were done and drove home to Yale.

When we got out to the car it was all written on in white letters “Just married,” etc. Behind the car hung a long row of tin cans on a string so when we drove they rattled with a terrible noise. All of Huron could hear us. All over people would turn and have a good laugh. When we got home the house was full of people. It took a long time before we could get in and make coffee at Yale and show them around and drink a little beer.

When I got home, I had to take off my wedding finery and put on another dress so I could serve coffee. When some of the guests had left, we made supper. Oluf and Kari and Nora were with us at Yale and it was really fun. Nora was just as nice as in my childhood, and when we go to Canton we will visit her.

Lars, Magda, Maren and Kenneth stayed at Yale until Wednesday morning. Then I rode with them to Salt Lake City. That trip is described in more detail later in the book.

Lisa Klungseth's Journey to the United States and a New Life - Part 2 of 3

 Continued...  Lisa's boat entered Manhattan and they prepare to disembark:

July 5.

It was a lot of work to depart from the Stavangerfjord. We stood in a line. We sat here. We sat there. We waited. We sweated and when we had come past all the counters on the boat, there was customs to go through. I was fortunate there, but many had to pay for antiques and cloudberry jam. Travelers Aid took them and some of us and helped us out of the station. There we sat for many hours, but finally we got into a train and could leave. I am writing while the train is going.

This fast train is very noisy. It was a big relief to come into it and leave New York, which we didn’t like and couldn’t do anything there. The conductor was very pleasant. It took a long time and we were starving, but we had to get through it in order to leave. Many think that it made them nervous, but not me. There were so many enjoyable sights here that one does not have time to be sad. We complained a lot, were hungry and sat, and waited and sat. Between New York and Philadelphia there was mist which was there the whole time. But afterwards there was more farmland. The wheat is ripe and some that was combined lies on the ground. Here are horses and cows and red soil along the railroad lines. The dirt is red and sun-dried and the sand is red sand. I see big green fields, but the train goes so fast that I can not see what they are. There are many more hills. We have very quick stops at the stations. The houses are quite pretty, red and white, but the towns are messy. There are many ironworks and factories all over, and rarely a greenhouse. Here are woods all over, but I can not see what kind of trees are there. The train cars are just like ours. Your seat is reserved when the ticket is sold. The dining car is very pretty but chilly. The food is good. You can get a pillow for the back of your head for 25 cents. This is not a sleeper car.

The houses often have chimney pipes on top of them and often tapered roofs. The train cars are very large with red upholstery on the seats and white paper under your head. There are 72 seats in each train car. Close to the towns the houses are built of red bricks, but often decorated with something that looks like gray bricks. The railroad stations are dirty. There are no flowers and plants. They look like the east train station in Oslo.

It is certainly warm outside. I use sunglasses inside the car. There is a Negro who wakes us up when needed. Here are pine and fir trees that we are passing, tall ones. I see seven hen houses on a hill, and only white hens. I see a red barn. This looks like a farmyard in Gottland. We are going faster now. There are hardly any trees. There are some hills in the distance or only flat land. The Negro comes in and brings us fruit and chocolate and other good things. Here is land, land, land. Just like before we got to Harrisburg it ls very beautiful. There are large lakes, rivers, but rarely any boats. There is soot from the ironworks. We stand a long time underground. From where we are we have to walk up many steps. The Americans are certainly not any better than we are.

A soldier is coming home. There is a big reunion with his wife and children. It looks like it is usual and approved, yes, that the women clothe themselves with light and airy sleeveless dresses. People drink colored water. I have not yet drunk the water. I had coffee in New York and coffee on the train, and not anything more. It is not hot. I am not thirsty. I am enjoying myself. Here it is a delight to sit in the dark shadows under the ground and the Negroes serve coffee for 50 cents for a cup of coffee – 3.50 kroner. Yes, yes. Then we start up again, very quickly. Yes, we will go far tonight.

Early this morning, 6:20, we came to Chicago. There I was separated from all those I knew from the boat and with many good wishes I came to my first northwestern station. Alvin was going to meet me but I didn’t see him. But when I had walked a little, he and his wife and Halvorsen and his wife came. They had been looking for me. I had been to Travelers Aid and got the best service I had gotten so far in America. The service at Union Station was very poor. I carried my suitcases myself and they were heavy.

Alvin seemed a little reserved and embarrassed at first, but I got a hearty welcome from them when I went back to see the schools in Chicago at last. He invited me many times and I believe he meant it. This is a much nicer train. It is Sunday and outside it is so clean here. The other train was so messy. We see much more ____?_______ on this side of Chicago. It is more neat and orderly. Here it is also flat but not so _____?_____. At 12:40 we stopped right outside a church. The train did not blow its whistle. It is so still, so still. People are coming in cars and stop outside. Here are flowers outside all the houses. Everything is painted nicely. Here now and then we find meadows at the same time.

There are no Negroes here, only in the dining car. People look more French and Spanish. There are many with brown eyes and dark hair (both Alvin and Anne had brown eyes). There is a completely different type of people than yesterday. These are all well-dressed people. They stand proudly by the train cars and surround us as we drive through. Here are also _____?_____ fields. There are no places to set your cups down and no place to put trash either, and there is nobody who throws them away. It is not permitted to smoke in the train car, only out in the corridors. It is clean in the bathrooms and there are two sitting places for those who want to sit and comb their hair. There are drinking cups and paper towels.

The woman who sits by me has IKE on a button on her handbag. In Chicago a man came into a café. He had a waitress stand beside him and had a picture taken with a sign which said IKE between them. It was most likely a picture for the newspaper. This picture is all over and is an advertisement for Eisenhower.

We have left Sparta and are in Wisconsin. There is a beautiful landscape. There are low hills and large farms, trees of many kinds. Land, land, plenty of land. There are 30 cows standing together and sun, only sun. Some are drying hay. There is a flat landscape. It is 3:25. There are well-kept buildings on the farms. The cows here are either black and white or red and white. There are kilometer-long fields of corn. I see windmills and the first cabbage field. This is the finest I have seen in this country. We are at West Salem at 3:20.

Now we are coming to a long, long marsh. There is a small bird down there with colored feathers. We are coming to LaCrosse. There are 18 strange ducks on the bank of a large lake; no, it is most likely the Mississippi. Now we are coming into Minnesota.

Lisa Klungseth's Journey to the United States and a New Life - Part 1 of 3

This journal, written by Lisa in Norwegian, starts aboard the Stavangerfjord, 25 June 1952: 

Leaving from pier 1, exactly at 12:00 noon after getting flowers and people’s kisses, tears and waves, the boat left Oslo in bright sunshine. The baggage was not opened again after they had searched it. I passed by four counters without a question, all the papers were in order, except the vaccination attest which had to be entered into the form. Mari, Daiel and Mari Kjersti from Elverum, Arne Velo and Giskere(?) were on the pier and stood and waved and I held a large bouquet I got from them. It will decorate our dinner table.

A little after the boat departed, an announcement came on the loudspeaker that we should eat lunch. We had to stand in a line to get tickets for the meal. We got them and also were assigned places which we would keep for our meals. I was assigned to table #16. It was a table for four people and I was excited about who I would get as tablemates. First came an old man from Duluth in Minnesota. He has lived in America since 1948 and had been home in Fredrikstad three months (a business man).

The next one who came was a Swedish man, named Anders Hager. He had heard about the American war in Korea. He was on a travel permit with the Swedish Embassy and would come back often. The third one was from Drammen. He was going to Vancouver to fish for salmon. So I became the only woman at the table, and we were all traveling alone. We ate roast beef with vegetables and afterwards we got coffee and a piece of cake.

I am temporarily alone in a cabin #463, bunk A on the E deck. It is roomy with two sinks, hot and cold water. There are three closets. There is a small place for suitcases. Right outside the cabin is a large laundry room. There are six washstands and one enclosed bathtub. There is an ironing board, which can be used between 9 a.m. and 1 p.m. and after 5:00. You have to sign up to use the bathtub ahead of time so that you get a turn. (There is a bench you can sit on while you wait.)

It is now 2:20. We are out in the Oslo Fjord by Oskarsborg. The flag is flying. It is blowing quite briskly now, and most of the people have disappeared from the top deck. I have already had my first fright. When I was going to open up my door and get my writing book I couldn’t find my pocketbook where I had the keys. I looked all over in my purse. Keys, 200 kroner, gone, gone. I ran up to the deck where I had recently sat. There they lay alone on a stand. A man had seen that I laid them there and he stood and smiled when I came. I can tell you that I was relieved.

There is a Negro on the boat. He looks like he is enjoying himself. If I could speak English I would talk to him.

Mrs. Asbjornsen from Tromsø is traveling on the same boat. She has two boys with her – 8 and 14-year-olds. They are going to Edmonton in Canada where her husband is working.

Supper at 6:00 was weiners and all kinds of toppings for sandwiches, open-faced sandwiches, coffee and tea. I was so hungry that my stomach was growling. It is 8:00 so I will take a bath and wash off my Oslo dirt. I have greeted a teacher from Holmenstrand whose name is (Borghild) Borgny Steen.

Our dishwasher has only one good eye. He cleans off the smørgåsbord table and likes to joke with us.
At 10:00 at night we were docked at Kristiansand for one and one-half hours and we didn’t get to go on land.

June 26.

I woke at 7:20. Breakfast was served until 8:00 with porridge and milk, an orange, bread and many toppings, coffee.

At 9:00 we got to Stavanger and were there for two and one-half hours. Mrs. Kvielsen (in a cabin to Vancouver), her three children and I went on land and looked at the cathedral, the parks and the harbor.
Dinner was at 12:00 with lamb stew, Victoria pudding, crackers and cheese. I was with an acquaintance named Tangen and his wife from Lillehammer and Borgny Steen, a teacher from Holmenstrand.

We got to Bergen at 7:00 in the evening. Mrs. Steen was going to wait while I made a long-distance call to Tysse, but when I came out on the deck she was gone. Therefore I only walked a little and then got back onboard again.

After awhile many came onto the pier. There were more and more on the balconies. Here there were also flowers and activity, but not as it was in Oslo. The crew was so busy and they sold many things – cards, stamps, long-distance telephone cards, and answered many questions. They will be happy when we get out to sea.

Yes, we finally are soon coming out to the North Sea and will have some bad weather. I slept Thursday night and felt good on Friday, but Friday night and all day Saturday and Saturday night I laid flat on my bunk. I ate Dramamine and got two kinds of pills. It helped a little. I ate all of my meal and threw it up right away. Then I ate a little more and slept. Today we met the ship Oslofjord at 10:30. Then the weather got better and I hope it will be better where we are going.

Friday night there was a movie in the dining hall. Today at 11:00 there were church services in the auditorium. Pastor Yuve gave quite a short talk, only half an hour.

It is foggy and rain so it is best to remain below deck. The days become quite long. The American women are really very nice. They like America and think they have it easy. I don’t think their clothes are any different from ours.

They tell that married people have their rings on their left ring finger. They have all their rings on their left hand, never on the right. An engagement was never longer than a month. They think we Norwegians are dumb who have such long engagements. They buy their clothes readymade and bread that has been baked. But why most Americans wear glasses, I have not been able to figure out. Here are many who travel during vacations and visit people for two to three months, such as I do. But most of them do not have such long trips.

July 1.
Yesterday I saw two films. In the auditorium they played two films from Utah. One film was photographed in the Geographic magazine of June 1952. This can be purchased in Norway. The other one was from the war. They were in English and I did not understand everything. Today we have gotten our customs number. We have gone into the toll department to show what we are bringing with us. We stood in a line by a large table in the auditorium. A pursor helped the unfortunate people who could not speak English, and two others handed out the cards. Yes, we talk and hear a lot about America. I have gotten acquainted with many people, mostly Americans.

Mrs. Steen still writes songs and will perform in the auditorium with what she has done. It is cloudy weather so I have not taken any pictures yet.

I have been walking around the boat. The crew consists of 308 men and girls. There is a bakery, a cafeteria, slaughter room, potato peeling room – 13 sacks for each dinner. There is a store, a library, barbershop, beauty parlor, a room where you can bathe, a laundry room, ironing room, hospital with a place for 24 beds, a doctor and three nurses. Today there will be a children’s party in the auditorium.
Lillemo from Brentforth, S.D., 68 years old. He was a banker in Norway for 48 years in America. He said that he froze so much in Norway that he is traveling back from Ryfylke. He did not find a wife.

1 kilo of coffee is 14 kroner.

1 kilo of butter is 14 kroner. Both are very expensive.

Norwegian chocolate is much better than American.

July 2.

There is a little rough sea today. I don’t feel well. I took a suppository and felt better. The entertainment this evening was quite interesting. There was a dance for an hour and a half. I have darned stockings and struggled to fix my hair. I am bored with so much free time. It is not easy to write. Finding land would be the best. We have seen land today, Newfoundland.

No, the next time I travel to America I will fly. This is too much time to waste, and too much time to be outside. I am gaining weight with all this good food and now I see that I have to do something about it. I have not been diligent to read or learn English yet.

July 4.

I am writing in my bed at 6:30 a.m. Yesterday we had a nice day with Mrs. Brita Horperud and Jens Lillemo. I took pictures of them to have for later. Mrs. Roseth and I have become very well acquainted. She says she will come to my wedding even if she isn’t invited. She is going to invite me for a two-day visit in Chicago with her daughter, but has not invited me yet. The weather is beginning to be warmer. Today we will have the captain’s dinner at 6:00. Tonight we come into Manhattan. I hope and pray that the heat will not be too stifling. Then I am not able to do anything.

Maybe It Shouldn't Have Been Surprising After All...

It started with a piece of paper I'd found in the bottom of a box.  It looked like a bill of sale for something that my grandmother, Lisa Klungseth Hammer, had purchased.  It had a date and a location to send it to.  I knew she was near Trondheim in 1946, and this piece of paper documented it. 

But in looking at it more closely, I saw this receipt was for a book - the author's name and the title were listed.  The books a person reads says a lot about them, so I decided to see if I could find this work in the stack of books she'd left behind - and about halfway down the pile, there it was.  "Friheten," by Nordahl Grieg.  It was all in Norwegian, so I decided to see what I could find about this book and the man who wrote it.

Nordahl Grieg was born Nov. 01, 1902 in Bergen and died Dec 2, 1943 in Kleinmachnow (near Berlin).  He is described as a controversial man, a long-time member of the Communist Party, and a "poet, novelist, dramatist, journalist and political activist."  Wait ... what?  My grandmother was buying and reading materials written by a controversial Communist political activist??

Grieg had been a member of the Norwegian Communist Party for a long time, and called a "Stalinist" by his enemies.  It was his empathy for the underprivileged that caused him to join the Party.

Interestingly, he was studying in Oslo the same time my Grandmother, Lisa Klungseth Hammer, was attending the Teacher's College there.  

During World War II when the Germans invaded and occupied Norway, Grieg broke away from his support of Stalin.  Communists were being urged to stay neutral, and this invasion changed things for Grieg.  He was passionately opposed to the Nazis and considered himself a Norwegian patriot, and intended to oppose them every way he could.  Grieg did military service in the Norwegian Army in 1939-1940 in Finnmark (Lisa was also in Finnmark at this time).  He escaped the country in 1940 on the same ship as the Royal family of Norway and the National Gold reserves.

His fight against the Nazis continued from Britain, both on the radio and in his writings.  He traveled, speaking with Norwegian soldiers and getting their experiences in his work as a war correspondent.  He took part in various military missions, which was common for a war correspondent at that time.    He was with the Royal Australian Air Force on an allied raid on Berlin, a very risky and dangerous undertaking.  It was during this night-time mission on Dec. 2-3, 1943, that he was killed along with many others. He was and is considered a hero in Norway for his stance on the Nazis and all he did to oppose them, and his anti-fascist poetry is still popular today.

"Friheten" ("Freedom"), the book Lisa had purchased, was a collection of Grieg's war poetry published in 1945.  She, too, was emotional about the Nazi invasion when she first told me about it 30 years afterward. Now it was all starting to make sense.  Perhaps it wasn't so unusual that she was interested in a controversial, political activist after all.

Information on Nordahl Grieg's life from:
Wikipedia  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nordahl_Grieg
Ally Poetry https://allpoetry.com/Nordahl-Grieg

Run For Your Life - A Story of Strength from World War II

Many of our ancestors faced situations that required every bit of strength and courage they could muster.  But few of those situations could compare with running for your very life from the Nazis.

My grandmother, Lisa Hammer, had a life that repeatedly required strength, from the time she was a toddler pining away for the home and mother that she'd never return to, to teaching and ministering to the poorest children in Norway, and much more in between.  But the astounding story of her fortitude during World War II shows what she was made of.   At the time of this story, she was a teacher in Kjøllefjord, Finnmark in northern Norway. I can't tell the story like Lisa could, so I will let her do it.  Keep in mind as you read the story that she got terribly seasick on boats, and that the Nazis had mined the waters.  Also please keep in mind that English was not her first language.

With that, may I introduce my guest host for this posting, Lisa Hammer.

**********

In 1940 the World War II broke out and lasted five years.  There was very little food around.  We fed the kids oatmeal soup and cod liver oil in the school and when the weather was bad, the fishermen stole the fish they had sold the day before.  The kids were not fed the way they should be and many times it was a lot better to give them a bath and teach them history and something else.  After the war I got a year off and went to a garden school.

The country was neutral but in big trouble because the Germans took the food for the soldiers.  For three weeks at the school we ate sour rhubarb jam with no butter on the bread.  The people were often put in camps because they didn't join the Nazis and they were starving to death.  The farmers in the south smuggled food in in empty garbage cans.  We could not write to our mothers because all mail was opened up and every telephone call taped.  All radios were taken away and nobody knew for sure who the next man was so we never dared to talk freely.  I stayed with one of the teachers at the school and had a very good year with them.  We made a lot of potato flour to take home and we bought a lot of caraway seed for tea.

Kjollefjord, 1928.  Original source of photo unknown.

In 1945 the Germans lost the war but before they left they burned the country and they evacuated us to the southern part.

We heard the news about the burning but did not know how serious the situation was before we saw the smoke come rolling over the mountain from Kjøllefjord.  We came together for a meeting and decided that all the men should go home and pack and all the women should bake bread so we could take it with us the next day.  It was in November and still no snow on the ground.  I lived alone but neighbors helped and we all worked together.  I went to bed and slept to 5 A.M.  Somebody knocked on the door and asked if I would go with my friends who had an old mother and were leaving.  I said no because I was sad and there were many who needed help.  I slept again until 7:30 A.M. and had another knock on the door.  This time the Germans were on the harbour, shooting down the pier and coast light.  I took the bike and my valuables up in the mountains to a small lake where we had water.  The Germans threw hand grenades in all the houses and that evening, not one house was left.  We had bought coal for heating for winter and all was burned up.  They put us in a fishing boat and said go to the south.  They were sure we would be bombed on the way but the first night the weather was so bad we couldn't go to the boat.  We made a big fireplace outside and fried sheep meat and drank beer.  We roasted the sheep and ate them.  The cows were running wild around; we milked them before we left and took as many pails with us as we could.  Of course we were to have food for three days.

Lisa's home in Kjollefjord

It was early Sunday morning the Germans come and they threw the grenades in the houses and we were all up to and before evening came, there wasn't one house left from all the places where we had the winter coal saved for the next year.  And we went down there and tried to find ourself but we couldn't find it because it was too dark and I was wondering where my map was at and all my papers and I couldn't find it and one of the neighbors who was born there, she came with a lantern and she said you follow me and I will find it, and she found it up in the rocks that night.  We had big bowls of sweet stuff, the cranberries, the blueberries and the snowberries we had saved for the winter, we dug them under the sod in the fence of the graveyard.  When we saw we couldn't take it with us we sat and ate out of the crocks.

It was very bad weather that night so we couldn't enter the boat - it wasn't possible to come to the boat so we were a mess.  We roasted some sheep, fried them on the fire and we drank some beer.  Milked some cows, packed silver in the shoes and boots so we could take as much as possible and next morning we went to the boat.  It was a fishing boat - we were laying in the bottom of the boat.  One man got crazy but we had a basket that was made up ready to go to the hospital if somebody should be sick.  Of course it was far away to the hospital.  So we tied him up in that basket, it was the only thing to do.  And every place we went by that day there was burning and burning and burning.  We tore apart sheets and bedspreads and washed the kids and one woman got her pants filled up screaming what should we do and throw it in the ocean, no, no, no we can't afford to do that, but there was nothing else to do.

So, for three days we went south and the Germans were sure we would all be bombed and died.  But later the weather got beautiful, we didn't see a plane.  We came to a city Phlocea.  They backed us into some cattle wagons with no windows, just one door, no lights and the rest room outside.

So we came down to a city called Mansus.  That is a side road going down to my home country and I took two families and we ran away in the dark.  The rest came south and I come home to my mother and my father with my two families.

**********

Lisa eventually went back to Finnmark and continued on to build up a fine school district from virtually nothing, and 30 years later she left it all behind for a new life in the United States with my grandfather.


Many thanks to Elizabeth O'Neal for hosting the Blog Party

Andreas Larsen of Hundhammer

This blog post was inspired by Amy Johnson Crow 's "52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks" challenge.  Learn more at her blog.

*******************************************

I had scanned hundreds of photos that evening, most of them with no identification, and most so small it was hard to see much without scanning.  My eyes were tired.  My back was aching.  I had two piles for the completed photos - the Unknown pile and the Known pile, depending on what, if anything, was written on them.  The Unknown pile was heaping, and I feared most of the little photos in the old trunk would end up there.  My grandmother had moved to another town, and did not want these mystery photos, nor did she want to go through them.  My father, knowing my affinity for family history, grabbed the beat up rusted old trunk from her pile of things to go to the trash. 

I scanned the little photo of a headstone, and as the scan came up on the screen, I had the photo halfway to the Unknown pile.  I did a quick look at the name, and was ready to move on when something stopped me.

**************************************

I was pretty sure I would not know most of the people in those photos.   My grandmother, Lisa, was technically my step-grandmother, and these photos were hers. She married my grandfather, a widower in the United States, when she was 50 years old and had come here from Norway at that time.  Much of her life had been in Norway with her own friends and family, and I didn't know any of them.  After hours of scanning, this little epiphany was enough to make me want to quit wasting my time and go to bed.

And then I scanned the headstone photo.

Lisa had grown up on the Klungseth farm next to my grandfather's family's farm at Hundhammer.  As a child she played with my grandfather and his siblings.  And she had known my great-grandparents.  Their names, she had told me, were Andreas and Anne Larsen.

I nearly fell off my chair when I saw that the headstone photo was that of my great grandparents.  I knew so little about them, and here they were, right in front of me.

From that point on, I learned more about them rather quickly.  Andreas was a farmer, and the area where they lived was exceptional for fishing, so he built a boarding house to rent beds to fishermen, and did a brisk business.  Anne took care of the house and the animals.  Lisa told me she was an incredible storyteller, and would entertain the children with her tales.

Then, an uncle produced a photo of them, and cousins in Norway that I had met had photos to share as well.

Andreas and Anne Larsen

Andreas and Anne, with my grandfather Adolph, who was the baby of the family.  Photo courtesy of Ivar Wiik.

Their farm at Hundhammer.  Photo courtesy of Tove Fagerhøi.

Steine Kirke, their church and cemetery, is just minutes from their farm.  Photo courtesy of Iren S. Flasnes.

I'm so glad I did not give up on all those tiny photos.  There were a few other gems hidden amongst the unknown photos as well, but none like the headstone photo.

Who Is That??

I recently discovered this old photo of my grandfather, Adolph Hammer, from one of his trips back to Norway.  I did not recognize anyone else, and wondered if these ladies were his relatives, or those of his wife, Lise Klungseth Hammer.   But before I had that thought, my eyes immediately made their way to the photos on the wall in the background.  I have found more treasures in the backgrounds of photos than anywhere else.

Thanks to high-resolution scanning, I was able to get a much better look at the faces in the back.



To the left is the top tier of photos – the fellow in the oval frame resembles Lise’s brothers - thankfully there is a strong family resemblance between many of those siblings.  Being the largest photo and placed at the top, it could be probably safely assumed that the man in the photo is the head of this household.  Perhaps it is his wedding photo and an anniversary photo flanking the larger photo.



The second tier of photos looked very familiar – these are Lise’s parents, Bergitte and Edvard Klungseth.  I have copies of these particular photos in my files, positively identified as the Klungseths, leading credence to the theory that this is the home of one of their sons.  The photos of Bergitte and Edvard were taken ~1920.


The picture at the bottom is somewhat of a mystery.  I don’t recognize the face, and am not certain if this is a man or a woman.  The placement of the other photos with the more current generation at the top, and the parents in the center, might suggest that perhaps this is another generation further back, perhaps a parent of either Edvard or Bergitte.  However, the style of the photo and the apparent age of the subject doesn’t seem to support that idea.  

I did go back through my files to see what photos of the Klungseth sons I have; I have pictures of all but Kristian and Torleif.  Torleif died the age of 24; and while the man in the oval frame could be about that age, the positioning of the wedding portrait next to it suggests that it is of the same man; Torleif did not marry.

Perhaps the women seated with my grandfather are Kristian’s wife and daughter.  Perhaps not.  But this seems to be the most likely conclusion to the mystery, thanks to the clues in the background.    Now – who is that person in the bottom tier of photos??

Wordless Wednesday - Klungseth Farm in Norway

Wordless Wednesday - Spinning

Wordless Wednesday - Grandma on the Helicopter

Wordless Wednesday - Lisa on the Shrimp Boat

Wordless Wednesday - Edvard Klungseth, Soldier

Wordless Wednesday - At the Grave of her Husband

Wordless Wednesday–A Warm Reunion in Kjøllefjord

100th COG Edition - There's One In Every Family: The Upbuilding of a School District

On the northern coast of the Land of the Midnight Sun, in the village of Kjøllefjord, a school system was built up from nothing to a thriving environment for learning, by a woman I’m proud to call my grandmother.

   Kjøllefjord, Finnmark

The year was 1925, and 23 year old Lise Klungseth had just graduated from teacher’s college in Oslo, and like every other graduate, was looking for a job.  The market was flooded, and teaching positions were generally hard to come by.  However, Lise had read about Finnmark, and the work of Pastor Otterbeck, who was trying to bring Christianity to the laplanders and Finlanders in the area, many of whom did not speak Norwegian.   There weren’t many teachers willing to go there because, as Lise put it, there were times “when the sun does not shine for two months,” and the area was nowhere near as cultured as southern Norway.  She described Kjøllefjord as “about as far away from home as you can get.”

map courtesy of Google Maps.  The pin marks the location of Kjøllefjord

Lise soon found herself employed in one of the poorest districts in Finnmark.  Her teaching position was split between three different schools, one month at each place, traveling between them by boat.  Her schoolhouses consisted of single rooms in private houses, with no books, pencils or papers.  Lise provide what they needed out of her own pocket.  Eventually, she was “promoted” to only having two schools.

When World War II broke out, the people of Kjøllefjord had to run for their lives.  Lise went back home to her parents’ home, and the following spring, to her sister’s home in Trondheim, where she was offered a very good teaching job.  While there, she received a telegram from the director of schools in Finnmark, asking her to return to Kjøllefjord. Recalling what little she had to work with there, she asked: Do you have a schoolhouse?  No.  Do you have desks for the children to sit on?  No.  Do you have books?  No.  What do you have?  Children.

Something inexplicable led her to say yes, quit her job in Trondheim, and head north.  She said, “I was the happiest person in the world, just like everybody else who was coming back because the Germans were gone, the country was ours and we were able to build it up again.” 
Once there, they were able to arrange for a log cabin, which had served as a hospital during the war, to use as their schoolhouse.  The mayor of the village asked Lise what she needed – she asked for carpenters, and was given them.  She worked alongside them, finishing the rooms and commencing her classes.  She taught from 8:30 a.m. until 8 p.m.  She was able to get three students from Oslo to come and help with the teaching duties.  They made do with whatever supplies they could find, until one day a mysterious box, sent from Canada, arrived at the school, filled with paper and pencils.  More boxes followed – with books!  They never did find out who sent those badly needed supplies, but they were grateful beyond words.

The new school building in Kjøllefjord 

Lise continued to build up the school, and was eventually promoted to Principal, with six teachers employed, a new and modern schoolhouse, complete with an intercom system, among other "luxuries.”

 
Her life was diverted from the children of Kjøllefjord in 1952, when she received a letter from my widowed grandfather, who was a lifelong friend, asking her to come to the United States.  She did, and the rest is history.  But I’m certain that leaving Kjøllefjord, where she had invested so much of herself, was probably one of the hardest things she had ever done.  She left behind her permanent gift to that village – an educational system to be proud of.

Lise, on a visit back to her old school in Kjøllefjord, in the 1980s.  Notice her picture on the wall, at left, a copy of which is below.

Mystery Monday – What Am I??

This … umm… “item” belonged to my grandmother, Lisa Hammer, who came to the United States from Norway in the 1950s.  I suspect it had something to do with making lefse, or some other Norwegian treat, but I’m not at all certain.  It’s relatively heavy, and would make a great weapon!
Has anyone seen an item like this?

Lefse – Breakfast of Champions

I don’t usually blog about my food.  But anytime lefse is made, eaten, or even passes through my mind, I think of my ancestors – I can’t help it.  As I’m rolling out the paper-thin sheets of potato-based dough, I wonder if my grandmothers through the generations have felt that ache in their upper arms, before remembering that they probably did this much more frequently than I!


As I put each round sheet onto the griddle to cook, I wonder if my grandmothers were fascinated by the characteristic brown splotches created in such a haphazard pattern.  My guess is, if I were able to ask them, they’d look at me like I was crazy.  Making lefse, to them, was probably in the same category as doing laundry or sweeping the floor. 

I wonder how they served their lefse – if it was a part of their evening meals, as we use bread; or if they enjoyed it for breakfast, as I often do, or how they prepared it.  Plain?  Brown sugar?  Butter and cinnamon-sugar?



Whether I’m making lefse or eating it, it’s the one time that I feel very close to the Norwegian women who have come before me.  No amount of genealogical research compares to doing what they did, and having made it a part of my family’s lives.  It’s as if my grandmothers, Agnes, Lise, Anne Johanne, Marie, and Alfhilde, are somehow there with me as I do the work and savor the product.  A little part of them lives on.



Lori, of Genealogy and Me, wrote a great post this week about interviewing the old folks – I’d like to take it a step further, and suggest you learn the customs and family traditions as well.  If not for my grandmother, Lisa, who took the initiative to talk about these things, even when I was too young to really appreciate it, and my Aunt Mary, who taught me to make some of the treats she enjoyed as a child, these traditions would be nothing more than a vague memory for me, and non-existent to my children.  This Mother’s Day, let’s be the women who pass down our traditions.

A Life Well Lived

If she was ever afraid, I never knew it. She tackled the experiences of her life with a measure of purpose and pure guts, and a faith in God that everything would come out okay, no matter what happened. I only regret that while our lives intersected, that I did not spend more time learning life's lessons at her feet.

Lisa came into our family a long time ago - long before my time. She and my grandfather grew up as childhood friends among the fjords of Norway. The area where they lived was particularly harsh, but an excellent area for fishing and farming, and so their families made a living.

People are destined to be challenged during their lives; some wait for rescue, and others overcome and become stronger. Lisa was among the latter. Her challenges in life started early, when both of her parents were seriously ill, and several of the children of the family had to be sent to live among relatives. Lisa was sent to her Uncle Benoni and Aunt Lovise, a childless couple who lived on a neighboring farm. She grew up doing the farm work usually reserved for the boys in the family, but as her Uncle Benoni's only helper, it was a role that needed to be filled, and she did it. While she lived in the reality of her situation, she indulged in a deep, but distant, adoration for her mother, Bergitte. She idolized Bergitte's beautiful black hair and deep blue eyes, her smile, and how she could do things most women could not; her craft projects won prizes at the county fair; her singing voice was loud and clear, and she knew every hymn in the church hymnal. She grew up wishing to go home and be with her mother, but it was a dream that was never realized.

Uncle Benoni and Aunt Lovise helped instill in Lisa a love for and trust in her Lord, and at age ten she experienced a spiritual rebirth, which took her through the rest of her life. After the death of her Uncle Benoni five years later, she and Aunt Lovise took over operation of the farm on their own. Times were hard; they had to carry fire wood from the mountain on their backs, and in tough times they had to dig through snow to find greens to feed to their animals. Aunt Lovise told her, "Don't worry Lisa, some day you will be rich. Martin Luther carried wood on his back too, and became a famous man."

At the age of 18 she made the difficult decision to leave Aunt Lovise and fulfill her dream of becoming a teacher - however, she had no money to advance her schooling. She had a cow, which she sold for clothes and shoes, and her father bought her a new coat; with that, she went to the local bank and signed a loan for the school, and arranged for a kitchen job at the school. Her mother followed her to the ship bound for Oslo, and told her "The Lord will go with you" and He surely did.

She had never been away from home before - she fought homesickness, loneliness, and tried to adjust to a new culture so vastly different from anything she had ever known in the country. At one point she had had enough, and was packing to go back home, but a caring and empathetic house mother convinced her to stick with it - a defining moment in her life, and the only time I have ever heard of her contemplating giving up.

After her schooling, she took a teaching job in northernmost Norway, in Finnmark, which she described as "being about as far away from home as you could get." The school district was among the poorest. The job involved teaching in three different schools, and Lisa, who was very, very seasick, could either take a boat between the schools or walk the 14 miles, over rocks and bushes, with her books and clothing. Many of her students were destitute Lapps and did not speak Norwegian. There was no budget for school supplies, so Lisa herself had to supply whatever she and her students needed.

Despite the circumstances, Lisa fell in love with a handsome accordion player, but would not marry him before she had paid all of her debts. He could not wait, and got another girl pregnant, and married her instead. When overcome with sadness and loneliness, she would walk to Kjøllefjord, where the church was, and console herself in the company of her friends.

The horror of her life came in 1940, when the Nazis invaded Norway. Food was scarce; all radios were confiscated. Those who refused to join the Nazis faced being put into camps. No one dared talk freely, as it was impossible to know who could be trusted.

In 1945, the Germans lost the war and burned and destroyed everything as they left. The townspeople had heard the news about the burning but did not realize the seriousness of the situation until they saw the smoke rolling over from the other side of the mountain. The men went home to pack and the women all began baking bread to prepare for an evacuation. The next morning at 5 a.m., there was a knock at Lisa's door, suggesting that she leave with some friends, but she refused, as there were more people who needed help. Two hours later, the Germans were on the harbor, shooting. She took her bicycle and her valuables up into the mountains to a small lake where there would be access to water, and the German soldiers began throwing grenades into all of the homes, and by sundown that day there was not an intact house remaining.

The townspeople were being rushed into fishing boats and told to head south. One man in Lisa's boat "went crazy" under the stress and they were forced to tie him up and put him in a basket to keep him from attracting the attention of the German soldiers. After three days on the water, they came to the city of Mansus, which lay nearby a road leading to Lisa's home country. She got off the boat with two families and ran away into the darkness, toward the safe home of her mother and father.

The following year, she received a telegram from director of schools in Finnmark, asing her to come back and build up the school. She had already taken a very good job across the fjord from her sister's home in Trondheim, but she could not say no to the job in Finnmark. She packed her things and laid on the pier for three days, calling out to the passing boats, asking if they were going to Finnmark. The reply was all the same - "Are you crazy? The ocean is full of mines!" Finally a boat picked her up and took her to her destination. Upon her arrival, she discovered that there was no schoolhouse, no supplies, no chairs, no books, only children in need of a teacher. The mayor, who was grateful for her coming back, gave her whatever she needed, and she spent the next ten years building a solid school system in Kjøllefjord, one little bit at a time, first as the teacher, and later as principal of a modern school building with a crew of teachers and ample equipment and supplies.

One day years later, her life changed forever, yet again. She received a letter from her childhood friend, Adolph, who had gone to the United States 30 years prior, asking if she had ever considered coming to America. Indeed, she had! As a teacher, and a lover of learning, she was anxious to see what America had to offer. A short time later, she had taken a leave from her job, and found herself at the railroad station in Brookings, South Dakota, in the presence of her childhood friend, Adolph, who was by then a widower with twelve children. A month later, they were married. Again, her life was turned upside down, in a new culture, a very long way from home.

She learned a new language. She saw the country. She learned to relate to twelve children that were not hers. She continued her career in education, this time teaching Americans about life and culture in Norway. She embraced grandchildren, and taught them all she could about survival in an oftentimes tough world. I will never forget her telling me that the last letters in "American" were I CAN. With perseverance and trust in God, we can, indeed, do anything. She spent 96 years on this earth showing us how it was done, and her inspiration lives on.