FRANZEN : HAGMAN : MOOERS : NICKANDER : SWANSON : Genealogy Query


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Date Posted:

14-Oct-2008

Surname(s):

FRANZEN : HAGMAN : MOOERS : NICKANDER : SWANSON

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Nickander Memories by Anna (Peterson) Behning I have many fond memories of my Grandpa and Grandma, Kjel and Anna Nickander. I used to walk over to their farm in the Glory Community quite often, and stay over night. I never minded the four mile walk, but didn't like to walk through the "Indian Woods" to get there. There was an Indian burial grounds there and it was scary to walk through. I suppose it is still there. I had great respect for Grandpa Kjel. He always seemed so stern. He was an avid reader. I can still picture him sitting by the table before his bed time reading the "Svenska Amerikanska Poster." His ritual before retiring was winding the clock on the wall. Grandma was a gentle person. How she ever managed all that work raising a big family I'll never know. No conveniences of any kind. She had to milk the cows by hand. I don't think the Swedish men at that time ever milked a cow. She still had time to knit mittens and stockings for the family. She even spun her own yarn. It seemed like she was always knitting in her "spare" time. I have her old knitting basket. Their summer kitchen I will never forget. It was wallpapered with the "Svenska Amerikanska Poster." One time when my Grandma was entertaining the Ladies Aid, several of us girls were in the summer kitchen washing dirty diapers and throwing the water out the back door. When it was my turn, Grandma came walking by the door and she got it right in her face. She didn't scold me, but my Aunt Esther sure did! I felt terrible and my afternoon was ruined! Grandma never spoke English, though she did understand it. My Swedish was terrible. Grandma always told me she understood my English better than my Swedish. Grandpa Kjel also delivered mail between Attica (at Lone Lake) and Glen for awhile, about three times a week. In the winter he would stop in at our place to warm up, and I am sure he had coffee and some of my Mother's cookies. I remember the big fur coat he wore. He had heated bricks to keep his feet warm! Now I would like to say some things about my parents, Anna and Andrew Peterson. My father always worked so hard. His hand was crippled in a butchering mishap, so he couldn't open his left hand. My Mother helped with all the work. She could stack grain and hay as well as any man could. She canned everything, hundreds and hundreds of quarts! She was famous for her molasses and sugar cookies. Her recipes are still in use today. My Mother always did a lot of knitting and embroidered crocheting. We still have a lot of items in use today. She performed chords on the organ and played the guitar at one time. Mother stayed on the farm for many years after my Dad died. Gene Westenberg, a young man and newcomer from Sweden, was her faithful hired man until Mother's health failed. NICKANDER MEMORIES by HELEN (DAHLGREN) BRANNON One special memory I have is Kjel Nickander's small wooden trunk. It had a rounded top that my Mother, Hulda, had. She said that her father carried his food in this on his voyage to America. On the side was a big hole which looked like it had been chewed. Mom said a rat chewed through to get at the food on his trip here to America. My grandmother, Anna, always wore gold hoop earrings in her pierced ears. My mother, Hulda, said they were a gift to her from Kjel on their engagement. After Kjel died, Anna sold the farm during the Depression. She would take turns staying at children's homes. She would come with her spinning wheel and knit all day. I have one of the last pair of mittens she ever made. I always remember she wore an apron and always had the round white mints in a pocket. It was fun to help her "card the wool" to be made into yarn. It was great going to see my Aunts. Aunt Annie's was a great adventure. She lived on a farm. I loved to watch them milk the cows and have milk squirted in the mouths of cats. We enjoyed the best family gatherings at Aunt Annie (Peterson's) Hemma (Home). Another place we used to go visit was Hill City, where Aunt Minnie and Uncle Alfie Olson lived. Back in those days, it was an all day trip. I will always remember Aunt Minnie's son Marion. He would take us to the school yard and put us up on the swings. He always had time for us! I had such a crush on him! He died very young, this special man. My Mother, Hulda, married Gust Dahlgren from Dalsland, Sweden. He served in World War I. NOTE: The trunk Helen talks about is now in the Aitkin County Museum. With the trunk is a portrait of Kjel and Anna Nickander. These items were willed to the museum by Mabel (Dahlgran) Buchite, daughter of Hulda (Nickander) Dahlgren. NICKANDER MEMORIES by ELSIE (LARSON) MOOERS My Mother, Esther Nickander, married Gust Adolph Larson, in February of 1918. Ma had been working in Crosby at the Spalding Hotel with her sister, Hulda. Pa had come to Crosby in 1916 from Virginia, Minnesota, where he had been living since 1910. Pa had come from Sweden to Virginia because his older brother Fritz had come two years previously. Earlier, an Uncle, Ben Anderson, had settled in Virginia and consequently sent for Fritz and then Pa. How Pa came to Crosby, I don't know, but I suppose with all the building of a new town, he had heard of work for a Master plasterer and bricklayer, which was his vocation. He worked on most of the brick buildings of the area, as well as the schools and High Schools. My father was a real craftsman and many of the buildings still around today bear the testimony of his work. I was born in Glory at the Nickander farm and in years to come, spent my Summers there with Mormor and MorFar. It was then that I learned to speak Swedish and to somewhat learn to read the language. In the evenings, we would read "Psalmboken" and also the "Svenska Amerikanska Tidningen." I can still see MorFar sitting in their identical rockers given to them by their daughter Annie, in the living room of the farm house. Mormor usually was spinning or knitting and Morfar was sitting in his rocker reading. Esther and Gust set up housekeeping on 4th St. N.W., Crosby, Minnesota, and there I grew up. We were a typical second generation Swedish family, keeping up the Swedish traditions of Christmas and Pask, entertaining Swedish acquaintances and relatives from the Aitkin area when anyone had a car to get them around to visit. My parents lived on 4th St. until about 1945 when they moved to the country. My Father bought a 20 acre piece of land and built a house about five miles from Ironton. My mother never really liked the country, for she felt isolated there, but my dad thoroughly enjoyed living out there. The Kjel and Anna farm was fascinating to me. I loved the summer kitchen where we pretty much lived during the warm weather. There was a long table with benches where we ate, and, of course, the wood range where Mormor baked her Kaka brod. I also remember making butter in a tall wooden churn. She would scoop the butter into a mold and use her finger to get all the butter out of the container and then lick her finger. I remember the grot or valing we made for supper. The grot usually was on a large platter in the middle of the table. We all ate from the same platter, dipping our spoon into the butter, the grot and then, our mouth. For the valing, we had our own dish. Mormor had a stiff leg and one hip shorter than the other. But she got around very well, milked the cow, hoed in the garden, walked to Swanson's store. She did have a "kapp" (a cane,) which she used when she walked any great distance. I loved going to the store. It was fun to visit with the Swanson children and go back into the house for coffee with Mary Swanson. One of the things that I will never forget about the farm is the well where we got our water. It was about two blocks from the house when we got to the woods, we had to walk on a narrow plank to get to the well. It was a spooky place and I hated to go get water. For some reason or another, there was no pump or well at the farm. I honestly don't remember if we drank that water, but it was dark and brown and God knows what creepy things were in it. Further on in the woods, we came to a small creek, near the Swing farm. We would swim there and play in the water. My mother Hulda told us that they used to swim there too, along with Indian children. Hulda said that Martha almost drowned once but the Indian children pulled her out. There were two or three large willow trees on the west side of the farmhouse where I could climb into the limbs and there I would sit and read. I loved to read, even then, and Ma would send me her True Story magazines off and on throughout the summer. I still remember the plot of some of these stories. Morfar was always there to talk to, and we did talk a lot. As I recall, he did not do very much around the place at that time. He was already quite old and I don't suppose he could do very much. I remember once I came racing into the "4 holer" and he was sitting there! What a shock! I turned to go out and he said, "Ja, kom du, det ar inte fallet." There was no shame in doing what comes naturally! When Uncle Andrew died, Morfar and I sat on the porch and watched the cars go by on their way to Bethlehem Church. There was a rumbling bridge about a mile down the road and any car that went over it could be heard at the farm. We always tried to guess who might be going by, or if they were coming to the farm. Mormor and I would sit and talk for hours about Sweden. I would ask the questions and she would tell about her life there. She was a tiny woman, probably not more than 100 pounds. How she managed to produce a family of 14, I will never know. She said that she had had red hair as a young girl and that she sold it three times, with the money going to her father. She told of going to the Summer place with the cows, "op po Fjellet" so the cows would have grass. The fields in Klovsjo could then be saved for hay. When we went to Sweden, it was one of the greatest thrills of my life to actually walk up there, as she had done, and see the place I had heard so much about. After Mormor left the farm, she moved into a small house on the outskirts of Aitkin. I stayed with her and Evelyn one summer when I was 16, and working in a cafe. She still was knitting...I guess I will always see her that way. And I will always see Morfar dipping his spoon into the "grot" for the evening meal or sitting in his rocker. NICKANDER MEMORIES by EVELYN (NICKANDER CARLSON My mother was Martha Nickander. I have many wonderful memories of Grandma Nickander on the farm where my mother and I lived for several years. She was a very active lady, from cooking, milking (Swedish men do not milk cows), feeding chickens and pigs, she still found time to make rugs, knit sweaters, mittens and stockings which certainly kept me warm! Especially when I was walking over two miles to get to school. Milk was our main dish. When it was separated, there was cream to churn to butter, which was traded for staples at the Swanson store. Our milk could be used to make two or three different kinds of cheese dishes. She also made Messmor. It looked like peanut butter, but was not!!!!! My Mormor always had the coffee pot on and welcomed everyone. She was handicapped with one leg shorter than the other, so she had to walk on tiptoe with that foot. She lived to be 96 years old. She was a true pioneer. My Mother was a lot like her Mor. She never complained and always had such an even temper. She was always there to help everyone. Mother was such a sweet good natured NICKANDER MEMORIES by ALLIE (PETERSON) RAY My parents were Anna Nickander and Andrew Peterson. They lived their entire lives in the Glen-Malmo area, on their farm. My dad was a Lumberjack and worked in a lot of different camps. One that I remember was at Bain, Minnesota. My Mother was the cook there. She became ill and had to go home. I wasn't very old, but I remember the ride on the train. From Bain to Aitkin took us quite a while and it was a rough ride. I think it was a freight train. When my dad quit being a Lumberjack, he became a full time Farmer. He never learned how to milk cows. My sister Anna and I would have to help my mother with the milking. It really is a fact that Swedish men do not milk cows! My Mother made the best bread and Molasses cookies. She also made some kind of cheese from milk, Messmor, which was very good, and also a spread was made for the bread from the milk. It was kind of sour. She tried to tell us it was peanut butter. It was brown in color, but one taste and we knew it wasn't peanut butter, but the older Swedes liked it. We always had neighbors and relatives over. My mother was always a busy person. When she sat down she had handiwork in her hands. She made many quilts and crocheted, too. I have a bedspread she made that I treasure very much. My Mor Mor, Anna Nickander, was a small person, but she was tough. I used to walk over to there a lot as my cousin Evelyn Nickander lived there. We had many good times together. We used to sleep in the hay mow. Today, when I go by the old farm, nothing is left of the original buildings and a new house has been built there. My Mor Mor had great sugar cookies. I will always remember her sitting in a chair and crocheting rugs. NICKANDER MEMORIES by EILEEN (PETERSON) JARVELA My mother, Anna Nickander Peterson, was a kind, loving and hardworking person. My father, Andrew, died before I was five. I don't remember much about him, except that he sang Swedish songs to me. One song was "Nikolena." After he died, my Mother carried on with work on the farm. On Sundays, she always cooked a large meal, complete with pies and waited for company to arrive. I remember my Uncle Matt and Aunt Ida Nickander. She was a feisty woman and he was a big teaser! We were in awe of the twins, Betty and Lois, a s they grew up. How could two people look exactly alike? It was a mystery to us. My Aunt Esther I have always associated with baked goodies. She was a champion bread maker. Even after I was married she would bring me loaves of bread. I also liked to visit them and play the old upright piano. "Beer Barrel Polka" was my theme song. My Uncle Gust always requested that. My Aunt Hulda was another great cook. In her later years, she was quite a socialite at senior citizen dances. Sometimes she went to dances three times a week. She always complained there were not enough good dancing men and that the women had to dance with each other! Through the years, my cousins have always been a joy to me! NICKANDER MEMORIES by LORRAINE (LARSON) USTIPAK My mother was Esther, daughter to Kjel and Anna Nickander. My father, Gust, was also born in Sweden. He came from a remote area. He was very intelligent for not having any formal education. He spent his life working masonry jobs. My mother, Esther, was a midwife to many women in Northeast Crosby, as they had babies those days at home. She would return to the house and take care of the mother, newborn, and other children, plus perform household chores. A midwife-maid-babysitter all in one! She had a big heart and was very fun loving person. She loved to dance and taught me when I was only four. I am glad she came from a large family. My aunts, Annie Peterson, Hulda Dahlgren, and Martha Nickander, were most familiar to me and I loved to visit all of them when I was growing up. Martha was gentle, kind, and always willing to let us cousins come and play at her house. We liked to play with her old gramophone. Many times, I would tag along with Helen and Irene after Sunday school when we would go to their home. Their mother, Aunt Hulda, never minded. She and I remained very close until her death at 92. She was still sharp and very mentally alert at that age. Everyone loved to go visit Aunt Annie Peterson in the country. She was so gracious and hospitable. You always got a big dinner or a large afternoon coffee spread. I would stay for a vacation in the summer to play with Vivian and Eileen. It is one of the fondest memories I have of my childhood. Aunt Annie was always busy and hardworking. I don't ever remember hearing a harsh word from her. I was always so happy to have a large network of cousins and never more so than when one of them, Vivian Peterson Anderson (Aunt Annie's daughter) came forth in 1969 and gave me one of her kidneys, for mine had failed. This was the gift of life from my cousin in the Nickander family. Tack Sa Mychet! Esther (Nickander) Larson by Elsie (Larson) Mooers Ma was a midwife for the neighborhood in Crosby. She would accompany the doctors to the homes to deliver a baby. She not only took care of the mother, but also her other children and all the household chores. She was a god-send. Another job Ma did was washing clothes for others. She would wash the clothes on the scrub board with the copper boiler on the stove and use the wringer washer. She washed, starched, and ironed shirts for Gus Olin at the restaurant for ten cents a piece. My sister, Lorraine, and I had to go get the washing in a little red wagon. I used to take all the back streets so my friends would not see me. I did not realize then that honest labor was nothing to be ashamed of. My mother loved to dance, sing, and play the piano and the harmonica. She taught us and the neighborhood kids all how to dance. Boy, did we love that crank up phonograph. Many nights we would roll up the rugs and dance. Ma also would wear great costumes for parties. No one would ever recognize her. She could play any song by ear on the piano or the harmonica. I remember her playing "Carolina Moon," and "When its Spring time in the Rockies." Even in later years when she couldn't remember anything, she could still play "Johan Pa Snippen" on the mouth organ and schottische at the same time. Footnote-There is a recording of Esther on the harmonica and Randy Wall on the keyboard, recorded live at Evelyn Carlson's. I was there! Ma and Hulda always loved to go berry picking. It gave them time to reminisce about the days of long ago. They would always take a lunch. That was the best part. It's hard to think that my mother and her sister would sneak out the window when their parents were in bed and go to a dance. I never think of Ma and not also think of Hulda. NICKANDER MEMORIES of AUNTS and an UNCLE by ELSIE (LARSON) MOOERS Aunt Annie and her husband, Andrew, lived on a farm in Malmo near Glen, about four miles from the Nickander farm in Glory where I was born. Annie's house was always so neat, and she made the best cookies anyone ever made! Her hair was always in a bun, and she wore an apron. There were always flowers blooming at Annie's and I thought her wren houses were the greatest I had ever seen! She had old shoes and boots hung from the pine trees and there were birds nesting in all of them. One time when I was walking back from the Nickander farm with Eileen and Vivian, we stopped at the lake to swim. It turned out to be a disaster, for we came out of the lake covered with blood-suckers! What a scramble to get them off; we were covered with welts. As a child, I always got a gift at Christmas. One year, she sent a china cream and sugar set; I still have it. Another year I got a cup and saucer that said Merry Christmas. But one year we got a big, fat chicken in the mail. She shared the farm's bounty with us and I sure was amazed that it came through the mail O.K. It was our Christmas dinner. Aunt Emma was my mother's youngest sister. She lived with her husband, Carl, on the same street a few blocks from us. They had two daughters, Shirley and Alice. Carl was a gem of a husband. He helped with all the household chores. He did everything for Emma. It was difficult for her after he died. She had to learn to go out in the world. She had deep feelings about joining the Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter Day Saints. She always had a good cup of coffee for us with some homemade bread. Aunt Ida died when I was only 12 years old. It was a treat to go visit with her large family. I guess I remember her gray hair, always swept up in a pompadour style. Her daughter, Ruth, said that Ida could waltz with a glass of water on her head and not spill a drop. Like all of us, the Forslund children were great dancers. Aunt Minnie had tuberculosis of the bone in her childhood. The treatment cured her, but it left her leg stiff and shorter than the other one. She was a brave soul. Minnie cooked in the lumber camps where her husband worked. She and Alphie got along so well, and for Alphie, there was no one like his "Minna." One time when Aunt Bessie came back from her visit to Sweden, Minnie couldn't get over her trunk and all the lovely things she had. Bessie bought tooth pick holders for everyone. I have the one she brought my mother. She thought the world of Bessie, as everyone did. Aunt Minnie, in later years, spent time in Crosby, lived with my mother for a short time, and was at her son's. Like her Mor, Minnie loved to knit and crochet. She was so even tempered. I will always remember her sweet smile for all. Aunt Martha was so kind and gentle. She never raised her voice or said anything unkind about anyone. She kept house for Pete Lawson, who lived only three blocks from where we lived in Crosby. Pete had a Dray business. I was over there a lot. Sometimes I would spend the night. What bliss it was to sink into her feather bed. Then she would read to us. Aunt Martha always said "don't scrub your face, pat it dry and you won't get wrinkles." I still pat my face today and I'm 77 (1996) and have very few wrinkles! After Pete died, Martha and Grandma Nickander lived in a small house near us. Martha had bought from us our old Edison phonograph with the cylinder records. We kids would crank up that phonograph and play those records endlessly. We must have driven her out of her mind. She never said a word. Aunt Martha would sit for hours and tell us of the "days of old," what they wore and all the chores they had to do. They did all the work that the men would. One thing about Aunt Martha, she was the motherly figure to all. She always had time to listen. Uncle Matt and Idy Matts. I only had one uncle on my mother's side of the family. Uncle Matt was the oldest in that family of 14. He was the only male to reach maturity. (Three more boys were born but died.) So understandably, Uncle Matt was very special. His sisters loved him. Anytime there was a picture to be taken, they would gather around him like the proverbial hens around the rooster. My earliest recollection of Matt was at what we called, The Poor Farm. Today we know these places as a nursing home. At the Aitkin County Home he was the administrator. We would visit on Sundays, stopping on our way from or to Glory, to visit Grandma and Grandpa Nickander. We were all very close; so we saw a lot of the relatives. Uncle Matt was always smiling and affable. I loved hearing him talk. He had a quiet voice with a slight Swedish accent. It was a voice quality I can still hear today. I can see him wandering around the home and talking to the old gentlemen who were sitting around. For all the folks who lived there, he was all these people's only company. And he always had time for us kids. It was fun to hear about the olden days from Uncle Matt. Aunt Idy Matts, as we called her, was always busy. We called her this because we had an Aunt Ida Forslund too, and it was our way of differentiating between them. I say she was busy because I will always remember her best in the kitchen of the County Home where she was always cooking. What a job it must of been to cook for all those people and still care for a large family. The twins were quite small, as I recall, because I can see them trying to get her attention, pulling on her dress while she was at the stove stirring. And there seemed to be a lot of company. But she was always smiling and made us feel so welcome. She could whip up a meal in no time. Aunt Idy told us the funniest Swedish joke I had ever heard. Ask me about it sometime. Later on we would stop and see them in Aitkin at the old Kelly home. Sure enjoyed Uncle Matt and Aunt Idy Matts reminiscing about their lives together. I'm so glad that I had at least one uncle on the Nickander side of my family. And Matt was the best. NICKANDER MEMORIES of Aunt Hulda BY ELSIE MOOERS Everyone should have an Aunt Hulda. My earliest recollection of Aunt Hulda was seeing her driving their Model A Ford 2-seater open touring car. She was probably one of the first women drivers on the range. We were on our way to Deerwood where the old sink hole used to be, and when the car went over a bump, the door flew open and out I bounced. I picked myself up, the car came back for me and I climbed in. We went on our way. It would have taken more than that to take a child to the Doctor in those days to see if the child was O.K. As we got older, we went fishing quite often at Rabbit Lake. We would fish, swim, hang from trees, and drop into the water. It seemed that Hulda's four kids and my sister and I could swim well enough so no one worried about whether we would come up or not. When enough fish had been caught, Hulda would clean them, get out a battered frying pan, throw some bacon grease in it, fry the fish, and we would have a meal fit for a king! Nothing ever tasted so good, unless it was her fried salt pork with new potatoes and cream gravy when we would come home from a berry picking trip. And those berry picking trips were the best. We would pick berries and make a picnic out of it. I just loved those times when we would sit and listen to the forest and the birds, and Ma and Hulda would talk about the "old" days, when they were young on the farm in Glory. They would imitate the old Swedish ladies of Grandma's generation and we would laugh as they recalled humorous incidents. Even as Hulda grew old, she loved to go berry picking. Aunt Hulda was a wonderful dancer. All of us would go to the Finn Hall Dances together. To the Nickanders, especially to Hulda and Esther, dancing was as necessary as air to breathe. Hulda even danced in her nineties. I was taught to dance as soon as I could walk. I can't forget to mention her wood range. That range went with her out on the farm from town and it really took up a huge area in the kitchen. It was the most beautiful range I had ever seen. It had nickel plated frame work and when it was shined up, it was really something. I can smell the bread being baked in it now. Wonderful Swedish rye bread! Sometimes we would take trips. One of them was to Lake Vermilion to see Uncle Fritz. We loved to stop and explore old buildings along the way. My mother wouldn't go in because she was afraid she might fall through the floor. But Hulda and I loved to see what the owners left and to see what treasures we might find. Old dumps were our delight. Another time we would drive to Duluth. Aunt Hulda had worked in Duluth as a young girl at the Russell Creamery Co. where she packed ice cream. We would drive around and she would point out places of interest. When she had lived there, she had witnessed the hanging of three black men who had been accused of murder. We also drove up the north shore of Lake Superior a bit too. We always had a car full of driftwood and sacks of agates. My Aunt Hulda sure had a zest for life. There isn't a day that goes by without thinking of her and my mother, and I laugh at all the fun we had. And remember, it's our heritage that we were born to dance. NICKANDER & SWANSON MEMORIES BY MARTHA LINNEA “NICKY” (NICKANDER) FRANZEN I did not know my MorFar, Sven Olof, but Karin lived with Uncle Ole and Aunt Mary so we saw a lot of her. She also came and stayed with us a few times. We always giggled together about Grandma Karin, because instead of going out to the outhouse toilet, she would walk around the side of the house and stand and say "GANG TIL GA PINKA." And she would just stand there. We kids always thought this was funny. It was so special to get to go over to the Swanson's. Aunt Mary had such beautiful hair. Isabel would comb it for her. Iszzy also would sit and rock Gilbert. He was so sick. We were so lucky to grow up with our family so close. Some Sundays when there was not a minister, Uncle Ole would do the preaching. He could have just as well been the minister all the time. He always made sure we had a penny for the offering plate. One Sunday, "Tootsie" (Adeline) and I were matching our pennies and one fell on the floor. Well, you could hear that all through the church. After the service, Uncle Ole sure gave Tootsie and me a second sermon. Needless to say, were sure didn't do any penny "flipping" in church after that. I knew my grandparents on the Nickander side the best because they were younger when they came to America. Kjel Nickander was a very somber and stern man. I loved going to see them because there were always goodies. After FarFar (Kjel) had died, Grandma would stay with her kids. I remember "Little Grandma" would speak to us in Swedish and we would answer back in English. I still can see her there sitting in her rocker and knitting. She, too, could be funny when she felt like it and my aunts, especially Hulda and Esther, were always up to something. Grandma Anna accused me of being like them both. I'm proud of that. A few memories about my parents, Matt and Ida Nickander: They had lived at many different farms around Glory. We kids were born at different places. For the first five children, Ida just had midwives. When the twins were born at the county home, she had Dr. McHugh and was also in Mrs. Beecroft's Maturity Home. Ida had known Dr. McHugh before the birth of the twins, because she herself was a midwife. I remember the last place we lived before they managed the county home was the Edlund place. The original barn is still on the farm, but the house burned down. All the children, except me and the twins, went to the Glory school. When we moved into town, my sister, Alfhild, and my aunt, Martha Nickander, helped my mother and father to run the county home. They ran the home for about 12 years. They cooked, washed, and cleaned the whole place for $350 a month. Then the folks moved back to farming in Kimberly at the Oppegard place. Years later, Matt and Ida moved into town to the Emil Kelly home. This is where all the members of the family gathered on weekends and for all holidays. We were all so happy to be with Ma and Pa in those golden years on the outskirts of Aitkin. Their final place of residence was at the Gables Nursing Home. They had more company there than anyone. It was like a hotel, with people always visiting them. We were always celebrating a special osscasion. Sometimes on weekends, we would take them back to their home on the outskirts of Aitkin for a supper and an evening of visiting with all the friends and relatives. Ida lived to be almost 90 and Matt was 93 when he died. Matt was eating a bowl of cereal and told Ida that he really liked it and was the best he ever had. Ida got the box and discovered it was dog biscuits for Bert's dog. MATT AND IDA (SWANSON) NICKANDER MEMORIES by LOIS ELAINE (NICKANDER) HAGMAN They were Swedes--100%. Life was not always easy for them. My memory of Ida is her milking many cows by hand. The barn in Kimberly was a long way from the house; when a snowstorm came, it was a struggle to get chores done. It was the worst getting the cows chased to the river to get a drink of water; first someone had to go and chop holes in the ice on the river for the cattle to drink. Horrible winter days for chores! There was not much money around--a trip to town was rare. We would take the cream in and buy some groceries; maybe in the summer, we'd make a trip to see a movie. Matt always liked to play cards, and if Uncle Ole and Aunt Mary Swanson coming to visit, the cards had to be hid! When they had the county home in Aitkin, we twins had many sitters. Rumor is, we were actually spoiled badly! I don't remember Kjel Nickander, but I do remember Anna. A very courageous Swede, she walked with a limp. She always spoke in Swedish. Our family always cherished our family gatherings. Matt's birthday and wedding anniversary meant a lot to him. Ida never complained about the hard life of making aliving years ago; it wasn't easy for them, moving 13 times. The last time was to a nursing home, but they were content with their life and their many friends. Ida's stomach would "jiggle" when she laughed. She, I'm sure, was lonesome for her Sweden; at times she would sing a lullaby in Swedish, Hälsa Dem Därhemma (Greet the folks at home, BYES-SO-BY). Jolly, hardworking Swedes-- I'm glad they were my heritage! And I am thankful that in 1925, at their middle age, that abortion wasn't an option, and that they had twins! Lolobet! “Long live the Swansons & Nickanders!” NICKANDER MEMORIES by BETTY JANE (NICKANDER) WALL My grandmother, Anna Nickander, was the only grandparent that I knew. My twin and I were born late in life to Matt and Ida Nickander, my parents. I am the youngest of the twins by five minutes. We called our FarMor, "Little Grandma," as she was a small lady. She usually spoke only Swedish and had a very warm smile. Then she would reach out to hug us with her little arms. She was always knitting something. My parents, Matt and Ida, were very special to all and everyone who knew them. You were a stranger only once when you met them. There was always enough food for an extra plate at the table. They farmed until they became Superintendent of the Aitkin County Home, which is like a nursing home. Here is where the twins were born. Just think, having twin girls at age 47 in 1925! Mother was afraid of having babies at her age. When the twins arrived, there was concern for the health of both the mother and children. Doctor McHugh said, Look, Mrs. Nickander, blue birds on the fence; it's a sign of good-luck." Ever since, the blue bird has been our symbol of hope and good luck. Mother could not handle the patients and the twins, so they went back to farming. We settled at a farm in Kimberly. Growing up, we became the baby-sitters of our nieces and nephews. Our brothers and sisters would leave their children in our care when they came home to the farm. This little group became known "Pump House Gang" (and it still exists today). The older we get, we realize all the sacrifices our family made to raise the twins. Before the start of World War II, a lot of unemployed young men "rode the rails" looking for work. It seems like the farm house in Kimberly was a magnet for them to stop and have a meal. Mother had them split wood or carry water for her in return. I remember Mother getting matching feed sacks and making blouses for us. We always had matching clothes. Ma and Pa lived to see the babies grow and marry and have children of their own. A handful of pennies, special pancakes, a trip to town for a show, taming a horse named Queenie, and raising an owl by the name of Eddie, are just a few memories of our days growing up in Kimberly, Aitkin County, Minnesota. We will always answer to the name "LOLOBETT." NICKANDER MEMORIES BY LARRY NICKANDER My Father, Bert Nickander, was the first Swanson Grandchild to Sven-Olof and Karin. But because his grandparents on the Swanson side were so much older they were long gone before I came along. But I have lots of memories of the Nickanders. My Father, Bert, would be asked by his grandfather Kjel Nickander, to hitch up the horse to the buggy and they would go fishing. They would catch 60 to 100 Sunfish. That was the fun part. The not so fun part was cleaning all those fish. Kjel would make my Dad clean all fish and then take what they didn't need to all the neighbors. Anna Nickander was always to us "Little grandma". She knitted mittens for all of us. On one visit she noticed I had a spot on the back of my hand without pigment. She told my Dad in Swedish to have me spit on the floor. I felt odd spiting on the floor. It took a little convincing for me to spit in the house but if the grown ups said to spit, I went ahead and spit. After I spit, I was to put the part of my hand with the white spot, in the spit, and walk around it three times. (I'm not kidding.) I did what they told me to do. There is no white spot on the back of my hand today! Harriet (Sergent) Gutzman, the first grandchild, and I the first grandson of Matt and Ida Nickander, were both born in 1932. My grandfather Matt always referred to me as Bert's boy. Once when I was playing cards, which he loved more than anything, an Uncle would walk in and he'd say, "Get up now Larry, the men are going to play. (I was in my thirties.) He loved to play cards. In later years with his friends dying off, he had to reduce himself to playing cards with woman and even children. (God forbid!) My grandmother, Ida (Swanson) Nickander, milked 23 cows at the Kimberly farm. (The last farm they lived at before town.) It is true, Swedish men do not milk cows. (That’s why Matt never milked cows.) She would let me milk the first cow in the barn. This was fun. She then would milk all the other 22 cows and come back to strip the cow I was milking (the finally process in hand milking of cows. It’s usually done by two fingers to release the last of the milk from the cow). It was rare to see Ida sit. Certainly not at meals, everyone was served first before she ate. She enjoyed the visit, and seeing all the items from the "Watkins Man" each time he came by. I will always remember her sitting by the radio, listening to Cedric Adams at 10 P.M. and at 10:15 was H.V. Kalkinborn. SWANSON MEMORIES By EDYTHE (SWANSON) BERGSTROM (Daughter to Mary and Erick Swanson.) One of my fondest memories is waking up, early in the morning, feeling the heat from downstairs, smelling the fresh coffee Papa (Erick) always made. Then I would hear Papa reading from the Bible out loud, especially in the Psalms. Another favorite memory of my parents is going to a picnic on the fourth of July, and how much fun we had with Papa shooting off Roman candles for us kids. We would make homemade ice cream, and it would involve the entire family! Freedom meant a lot to Papa, especially on the Fourth of July! SWANSON MEMORIES By GLORIA (SWANSON) COPLEY (Daughter to Erick and Mary Swanson) I have many wonderful memories of my growing up years at the Swanson farm and store, but will only mention a few of them. Many mornings, I woke up to the sound of my father (Erick) shaking down the ashes from the stoves and starting the morning fires and then I knew it wouldn't be long and the smell of coffee would drift up to the upstairs bedroom. We knew when the coffee was done. He would lovingly carry a cup of fresh coffee to Mama (Mary) to enjoy in bed along with a rusk (scorpa). Then you could hear the radio voices--news and perhaps a radio preacher--then silence, and we knew Papa was reading from his many periodicals and books. He was always reading a passage from God's word and a time for prayer. What a way to start the day and what a memory for me! Mama and Papa loved their yard--always planting a new tree or starting another flower bed--often surrounded by special rocks they had picked up somewhere. In the evening they would walk around the yard together--admiring, watering, and weeding. I can see them on Sunday morning carrying a pretty glass vase and filling it with the choice flowers to bring to church to enhance the morning worship service. They loved the little Glory church and their friends there. (They donated the land for the church and were instrumental in getting the church built and started.) I am so thankful for my Christian heritage and that they brought the best flowers to the House of God. Erick Olof was a very patriotic man. He loved his new adopted country. The 4th of July was a very exciting day around our place. He decorated the store front, our play house, and the radiator of our car with flags. We kids each got a bag of fireworks. We often went to Mille Lacs Lake for a picnic and then on to Garrison for the 4th of July celebration there. In the evening we made homemade ice cream and invited the neighbors over. Papa would set off sky rockets and give the kids sparklers. It was a far cry from the fireworks of today, but we thought it was awesome. Three of my brothers, Alton, Walter and Wallace were in the military during World War II--helping to preserve our country and the freedoms Erick Olof so strongly believed in. We had lots of company and went visiting--often to visit the Nickanders, and maybe twice a year to visit our relatives in St. Cloud. Sunday dinner was always shared by someone, a neighbor, a relative, or a traveling preacher or missionary. I have fun memories spent with the Nickander twins. We used to ride bareback on our old horse Maude--all three of us. I remember hunting with our faithful "bee--bee" guns in the woods near their house at Kimberly and climbing trees, too. We played softball and croquet. In my father's diary, dated from 1899 and 1900, he mentions playing croquet. It's a game we still play today. There were hard times for my parents, too--the Depression years, the hard work, the death of their parents, and the death of their eight year old son, Gilbert Wesley. He died from Diptheria. The night he died, they laid his body out on the back porch. They could not have a public funeral because of the contamination. Papa told someone later that it was a dark, dark night and our hearts were just as dark. I was one year old at the time and also had Diptheria-but life went on. They did not lose their faith. SWANSON MEMORIES BY COLLEEN (SWANSON) LOOS My parents were older than most parents when I came into this world. Papa (Erick) was 57 and Mama (Mary) was over 45. This would be a bit frightening by today's standards. Papa called me Betty and Mama called me Colleen. For a while I went by both. I did many chores for the family. One of my tasks was as a stock person for the store. I loved stocking the candy counter. (I got to sample everything.) My niece, Beverly (Stone) Gower, and I, would each receive a box of crackerjack for hoeing the sweet corn patch. My father was proud to be an American. He was very patriotic. Our 4th of July picnics were the best any family could ever have. He was proud of his heritage. When my father first came to America, he worked in the logging camps cooking. His best recipe was for stew and he also made wonderful coffee. I would love to dunk rusks (toast), in my cup but part of them would fall into the coffee, so I ate the rest by spoon. He would sit and tell us about things when he first came over to America. It was exciting to hear about the "old" country, too (Sweden. One reason why Papa left Sweden was for his religious freedom. He gave part of his farm for the church building. He could have been a preacher himself. He made the Bible come to life. Papa was a very generous man. Mama made sure she attended church conferences with him as he could easily give more than they could handle. For Sunday dinners, we always had a visiting pastor or missionary. It was exciting to hear about their travels. (Papa would slip outside and fill up their gas tanks.) I went with my Father to collect outstanding bills. We went to this one home where they had promised chickens in payment for their debt. When we got there, all that was left was empty buildings. My brother was so mad. He said," How could you give them so much credit. It's no way to run a business." But Papa couldn't let a child go hungry, and he couldn't refuse. He had a tender heart for mankind. I lost my father when I was only 18 years old. You may think that was a short time but he taught me a life time of devotion and love for people and our Lord. Many people from all over came to his funeral. He had given so much to this world. I will always remember the Sunday school class, in that little town of Glory, with my Papa as the teacher. SWANSON MEMORIES BY RICHARD McCREADY (HE IS A GRANDCHILD OF ERICK & MARY SWANSON, EDNA'S SON.) I remember sitting on Granpa Erick's lap Saturday mornings in the dining room, and we'd listen to programs on the radio. I loved it when he talked about his logging days and the "old" country. Sometimes he would even let me sit on his lap in his 1939 Chevy and let me steer. We would go fishing at Lone Lake with a cream can in the middle of the boat to throw fish in that we caught. It was a lot of fun to help with the store chores. I would get to pump gas with the old time hand crank and glass globe gas pumps. Other store jobs were getting kerosene and oil for customers. It was always exciting to meet all the people who came to the store. Each one had stories about the olden days. Papa (Erick) had a carved yoke he made put over your shoulder and carry a pail of water on each side. We kids thought this was great fun. He also made bird houses. When ever people came over to the store, they always got invited to the summer kitchen for coffee. On the farm at Glory, he had a steam tractor with big iron wheels. With it they used a thrashing machine. In the early days, before the tractor, I got to drive a team of horses with the hay wagon. One story that comes to mind is about Erick and his first car. He was returning home from town where he just bought the car and was heading toward the ditch and he said, “WHOA” like he was going to stop a team of horses. But he hit a pole in the ditch and banged up the fender before he got home on his first drive. On the Fourth of July, Papa had fireworks and gave me and Rollie some smaller ones of our own. We had so much fun setting off our own fireworks. In the fall, when the corn was ready for eating, area farmers would get together at Spoon Lake. The kids would go swimming and everyone would fish. At night we would have a fish fry and throw corn in the husks on the bonfire. When the ears of corn were ready, we would take them out and dip them in big jars of melted butter. Add a little salt and pepper and you had a meal "out of this world." DELICIOUS!!! Boy, what the kids miss out on today! Before going to the Glory church, Papa would shave in the kitchen using his straight edge razor and sharpen it with a leather strap. Then it was time for pancakes. Papa's was the size of the whole griddle. Lastly, I will never forget the store fixtures and all the fun we had exploring the old things that were around.