I mentioned that uncle George often seemed to subsist on coffee and a rusk. Rusks were a staple at my grandmother’s house and indeed they were widely and commonly used in the Swedish community. Basically a small loaf of white bread was made, sliced and the slices were dried in the over (after having been given a light dusting of sugar — there may have been other treatment but only the sugar am I sure of). Thus after the drying in the oven they were crisp and hard throughout and perhaps slightly browned on the surface, but not like a piece of toast. They were eaten generally along with a cup of coffee and invariably the rusk was dunked in the coffee to make it easier to chew. I certainly ate my share of rusks in my day, although not until the point where I could have coffee. Actually when dunked in coffee they were quite tasty. In cross-section a rusk would be perhaps 2 inches by 4 inches and one-half to one-third inches thick.
Coffee was an important beverage in the Swedish community and at the time of my youth was always simply made by adding the requisite amount of coffee grounds to the water in the coffee pot and allowing it to simmer until the grounds settled. At church functions, such as Ladies Aid or Missionary meetings an egg would be added in the later part of the coffee-making process to aid in the settling of the grounds. Most people would add cream and many would add sugar (always one or two cubes of lump sugar, not a spoonful of granulated sugar). Sugar was not normally used at my grandmother’s or by my parents. Almost no one would drink “black” coffee.
My uncle Carl, not being a coffee drinker would dunk his rusks in the large class of water he invariable had with his meals. The picture in my mind I have of him doing this is incredibly clear.
When I was working on the threshing run, coffee was of course served at meals and I was told by the older men that the best way of cooling off during the sweaty work was to drink hot coffee. I could not really believe this but they claimed it to be true.
I have one amusing incident that I was told about involving coffee. I think it was my cousin Floyd who told me of it — he was always one for a funny story, whether true or not. It seems that one of the grocery stores in Gowrie on one occasion was providing free cups of coffee to its customers. The cost of a cup of coffee at the time was five cents. Old man Franzeen, a neighbor of my cousin Floyd, was offered a cup of coffee. Being well aware of the value of money, the old man said, “I’d rather have the nickel.”
On occasion my grandmother would make toast, but toast to her was a piece of bread that was crisp throughout, much like being a rusk except browner on the surface. Nothing like a piece of toast today that is crisp and brown on the outside but not crisp inside.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Uncle George's Wake
When uncle George died he had the typical funeral of the time, in which the casket of the deceased person was brought to his, or her, place of residence. There it sat for a day or so before the funeral service. So uncle George in his casket was in the parlor at my grandmother’s and also typical of the time, the casket was open for family and friends to view the deceased for the last time.
I saw him there and I was struck by the comeliness of his face. Perhaps it was the result of the undertaker’s skill but I believe it was more than that. Maybe it was also the contrast with the appearance he had during his life. My impression was that he was a much better looking man than any of his three younger brothers (in my opinion, uncles Lawrence and Serenus were rather peculiar in appearance and deportment and uncle Milton though better in the latter department was not particularly good-looking). Uncle Carl had better features and basically in the same class with uncle George as I viewed him in his casket.
Uncle George had a few funds at the time of his death and these were distributed to some of his nieces and nephews. I got $10 as I recall and I used it to purchase a watch chain with a little knife at one end. I used it for a long time and I suppose I still have it somewhere. I know I used it well into the 1960s.
I saw him there and I was struck by the comeliness of his face. Perhaps it was the result of the undertaker’s skill but I believe it was more than that. Maybe it was also the contrast with the appearance he had during his life. My impression was that he was a much better looking man than any of his three younger brothers (in my opinion, uncles Lawrence and Serenus were rather peculiar in appearance and deportment and uncle Milton though better in the latter department was not particularly good-looking). Uncle Carl had better features and basically in the same class with uncle George as I viewed him in his casket.
Uncle George had a few funds at the time of his death and these were distributed to some of his nieces and nephews. I got $10 as I recall and I used it to purchase a watch chain with a little knife at one end. I used it for a long time and I suppose I still have it somewhere. I know I used it well into the 1960s.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
The Reclusive Life of Uncle George
The sun porch was on the south side of the house on the second story and was entered through the bedroom that uncle George used. Uncle Carl did use the clothes closet adjacent to uncle George’s room — there was no closet attached directly to the sun porch. The sunroom had a lot of windows and was consequently very light and airy — it was unheated so it must have been a cold place to sleep in the winter time. Uncle George’s room was on the other hand invariably a rather dark place. Most of the time he would have the window shade mostly drawn down (for the single window in the room).
The checker games I played with uncle George I most of the time lost. When I won perhaps it was by design on the part of my uncle, I really do not know. As I grew older it was less likely that I would spend these times with uncle George and I think they ceased altogether after we moved to the farm. Also I don’t know if any of my brothers (or cousins) ever visited and played checkers with him in a similar fashion.
One time, perhaps through my mother or my grandmother and after I had more or less stopped visiting with him, he had remarked rather plaintively that I wasn’t coming to see him anymore. With the callousness of youth the remark did not move me to see him much again. I surmise that the level of stimulation I had received from playing checkers with him had palled.
I doubt if he read much if at all and the only human contact he had was with the few regular occupants of the house; he was starved for things to do and for more personal contacts. I think when one of his minister brothers would visit the house they would spend some time with him. Generally uncle Carl would shun contact with him and treated him rather cavalierly, according to my sister Vivian. At this point of my life, I feel a sadness for him — a stunted life brought on and emphasized by the religious milieu of that household.
When I was first aware of my uncle George he did such chores around the house as mowing the lawn, perhaps working in the vegetable garden though I don’t specifically recall this. Early on there used to be a few chickens kept in the barn at the back of the property but this later on discontinued. Uncle George said that the chickens were not producing much in the way of eggs and I guess uncle Carl disposed of them. Eventually he wasn’t able to continue the chores and I recall on one occasion mowing the lawn. Maybe this was at uncle Carl’s instigation or by my mother’s or grandmother’s request; I don’t recall.
He died rather suddenly — no specific illness, I think he just gave up living. I seem to have been on the scene when he died. It was during the day, a weekday, during the summer, and uncle Carl was in town thought it was the time of the year when he normally would have been doing farm work. Uncle Carl had walked to the post office to get the mail and when members of the family observed that uncle George had died, my aunt Laurine was greatly agitated and wanted me to immediately find uncle Carl and let him know what had happened. Apart from the rather unlikely possibility that I could located him readily, or would miss him on the alternative paths to and from the post office, I recall thinking that he would surely come back soon anyway. This indeed proved to be the case before I set out to find him. I wonder now if uncle Carl’s not working was the result of the feeling that uncle George was indeed dying.
Aside from my checker-game visits with uncle George my only contact with him would be to observe him when he came down from his room to the kitchen (as when we were having Sunday dinner at my grandmother’s). I cannot recall him ever joining at the table with the rest of the family, and I’m not sure he would join at other meals with uncle Carl, grandmother and aunt Esther and other regular occupants of the house but perhaps he did.
When he did come down to the kitchen, his fare seemed to be some black coffe and a piece of bread or a rusk. I suspect his diet was sadly inadequate; I wonder if maybe he had an ulcer. With this kind of diet he was very thin, almost to the point of emaciation. Though of average height I doubt if he could have weighed much more than 100 pounds or so. Like the rest of him his face was thin and deeply lined. I’m not sure but oftentimes he would not have shaved that day. His hair was not gray and in this respect he did not have the typical Peterson tendency for early gray, even white hair. Always shy and retiring, he never left the limits of house and yard to my recollection. He does appear in a few photographs of family gatherings — a somewhat saturnine visage amongst many of more animated appearance.
As I have mentioned previously when my uncle Milton or uncle Lawrence would visit they would spend some time with uncle George, sort of a person-to-person visit with him. I seem to have heard it mentioned that they did. Uncle Serenus and family seldom if ever visited Gowrie, at least after the time of our move to the farm so I don’t know if they ever visited with uncle George in a similar manner. What did they talk about? Religious matters? Discussion of whatever afflicted uncle George to make him lead the kind of life he lived? Uncle George never attended any church services. Did the pastor of the Gowrie church visit him, perhaps to administer communion? There was never any mention of such visits to my recollection.
The checker games I played with uncle George I most of the time lost. When I won perhaps it was by design on the part of my uncle, I really do not know. As I grew older it was less likely that I would spend these times with uncle George and I think they ceased altogether after we moved to the farm. Also I don’t know if any of my brothers (or cousins) ever visited and played checkers with him in a similar fashion.
One time, perhaps through my mother or my grandmother and after I had more or less stopped visiting with him, he had remarked rather plaintively that I wasn’t coming to see him anymore. With the callousness of youth the remark did not move me to see him much again. I surmise that the level of stimulation I had received from playing checkers with him had palled.
I doubt if he read much if at all and the only human contact he had was with the few regular occupants of the house; he was starved for things to do and for more personal contacts. I think when one of his minister brothers would visit the house they would spend some time with him. Generally uncle Carl would shun contact with him and treated him rather cavalierly, according to my sister Vivian. At this point of my life, I feel a sadness for him — a stunted life brought on and emphasized by the religious milieu of that household.
When I was first aware of my uncle George he did such chores around the house as mowing the lawn, perhaps working in the vegetable garden though I don’t specifically recall this. Early on there used to be a few chickens kept in the barn at the back of the property but this later on discontinued. Uncle George said that the chickens were not producing much in the way of eggs and I guess uncle Carl disposed of them. Eventually he wasn’t able to continue the chores and I recall on one occasion mowing the lawn. Maybe this was at uncle Carl’s instigation or by my mother’s or grandmother’s request; I don’t recall.
He died rather suddenly — no specific illness, I think he just gave up living. I seem to have been on the scene when he died. It was during the day, a weekday, during the summer, and uncle Carl was in town thought it was the time of the year when he normally would have been doing farm work. Uncle Carl had walked to the post office to get the mail and when members of the family observed that uncle George had died, my aunt Laurine was greatly agitated and wanted me to immediately find uncle Carl and let him know what had happened. Apart from the rather unlikely possibility that I could located him readily, or would miss him on the alternative paths to and from the post office, I recall thinking that he would surely come back soon anyway. This indeed proved to be the case before I set out to find him. I wonder now if uncle Carl’s not working was the result of the feeling that uncle George was indeed dying.
Aside from my checker-game visits with uncle George my only contact with him would be to observe him when he came down from his room to the kitchen (as when we were having Sunday dinner at my grandmother’s). I cannot recall him ever joining at the table with the rest of the family, and I’m not sure he would join at other meals with uncle Carl, grandmother and aunt Esther and other regular occupants of the house but perhaps he did.
When he did come down to the kitchen, his fare seemed to be some black coffe and a piece of bread or a rusk. I suspect his diet was sadly inadequate; I wonder if maybe he had an ulcer. With this kind of diet he was very thin, almost to the point of emaciation. Though of average height I doubt if he could have weighed much more than 100 pounds or so. Like the rest of him his face was thin and deeply lined. I’m not sure but oftentimes he would not have shaved that day. His hair was not gray and in this respect he did not have the typical Peterson tendency for early gray, even white hair. Always shy and retiring, he never left the limits of house and yard to my recollection. He does appear in a few photographs of family gatherings — a somewhat saturnine visage amongst many of more animated appearance.
As I have mentioned previously when my uncle Milton or uncle Lawrence would visit they would spend some time with uncle George, sort of a person-to-person visit with him. I seem to have heard it mentioned that they did. Uncle Serenus and family seldom if ever visited Gowrie, at least after the time of our move to the farm so I don’t know if they ever visited with uncle George in a similar manner. What did they talk about? Religious matters? Discussion of whatever afflicted uncle George to make him lead the kind of life he lived? Uncle George never attended any church services. Did the pastor of the Gowrie church visit him, perhaps to administer communion? There was never any mention of such visits to my recollection.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
The Mystery of Uncle George
The third child in the Peterson family was my uncle George, and all during my recollection of him he lived sort of a recluse-like existence in my grandmother’s house. There is an unexplained aspect of his condition to which I was never privy. My sister Vivian apparently knew something which would have clarified why he was like he was. But she vowed not to reveal it to anyone and since her death couple of years ago, it will remain forever a mystery.
Vivian’s information cam probably from either my mother or my aunt Laurine, though possibly from my grandmother. There seemed to have been a feeling on Vivian’s part of protecting the memory of him from idle curiosity or reproach of his attitude or condition, or of capitalizing on the information bout him (as in the case of my cousin John Milton, who might have used the information in some of his semi-fictional writings). The feeling on the part of Vivian may have been transmitted to her by my mother or my aunt Laurine.
I have the vague feeling that there may have been some evidence of a nervous disorder, perhaps even epilepsy, in uncle George. Certainly he seemed to have less physical stamina than his brothers — on the other hand my mother wrote in her family story that he did participate in the farm work. And in the batch of letters which I have that my uncle Carl saved from his time in business school in Des Moines, there are two letters to him from uncle George. One of these is in English, the other in Swedish, so he was bilingual both in speech and writing (as were all of his siblings). I shall have to inspect these letters more carefully, particularly the two that uncle George wrote but also the others.
My brief and cursory inspection is that at that time (about 1900), uncle George was active in both farm work and in social activities. Thus there seems to have been a deterioration in his condition from that time to when I knew him, say from when I was 6 years of age to when he died in the later 1930s.
Vivian’s information cam probably from either my mother or my aunt Laurine, though possibly from my grandmother. There seemed to have been a feeling on Vivian’s part of protecting the memory of him from idle curiosity or reproach of his attitude or condition, or of capitalizing on the information bout him (as in the case of my cousin John Milton, who might have used the information in some of his semi-fictional writings). The feeling on the part of Vivian may have been transmitted to her by my mother or my aunt Laurine.
I have the vague feeling that there may have been some evidence of a nervous disorder, perhaps even epilepsy, in uncle George. Certainly he seemed to have less physical stamina than his brothers — on the other hand my mother wrote in her family story that he did participate in the farm work. And in the batch of letters which I have that my uncle Carl saved from his time in business school in Des Moines, there are two letters to him from uncle George. One of these is in English, the other in Swedish, so he was bilingual both in speech and writing (as were all of his siblings). I shall have to inspect these letters more carefully, particularly the two that uncle George wrote but also the others.
My brief and cursory inspection is that at that time (about 1900), uncle George was active in both farm work and in social activities. Thus there seems to have been a deterioration in his condition from that time to when I knew him, say from when I was 6 years of age to when he died in the later 1930s.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Luck and Circumstance
As I stop to reflect on my uncle I realize that he was quite probably the dominant male in my early life. Much more so than even my father who always seemed to be in the background. Maybe this was due to my impressionable teenage years when I was working for him on the farm. I can’t say that I really liked him; I respected him but his crusty personality kept me from really liking him.
I realize now that he had our family and me as matters of concern to him. I recall how he took Vincent and me along with him on his periodic visits to Iowa State College to keep up on the latest developments in agriculture. Was he thinking that someday we would be farmers as he was? And sort of preparing us for that role in life?
Had it not been for the scholarship I received after my two years at Fort Dodge junior college to attend the University of Iowa, what would I have done with my life? Enlist in the military or wait and be drafted?
When I finished at the junior college in 1940, my father had inherited the basic Strand farm from my grandfather. My cousin Leonard was the tenant. Could I have started farming? I recall that my uncle Carl had helped one of our neighbors during the first year he tried to be a farmer. Would I have borrowed the wherewithal to begin farming from him? I could easily see myself as an Iowa farmer; it would have been easy for me to drift into it, even had I gone into the military and survived it would have been a path of low resistance to me.
Again I feel that events shaped my life and that I exerted no choice in the matter. I went away to Iowa, became a chemical engineer with Shell, but I could just as easily ended up as an Iowa farmer.
I realize now that he had our family and me as matters of concern to him. I recall how he took Vincent and me along with him on his periodic visits to Iowa State College to keep up on the latest developments in agriculture. Was he thinking that someday we would be farmers as he was? And sort of preparing us for that role in life?
Had it not been for the scholarship I received after my two years at Fort Dodge junior college to attend the University of Iowa, what would I have done with my life? Enlist in the military or wait and be drafted?
When I finished at the junior college in 1940, my father had inherited the basic Strand farm from my grandfather. My cousin Leonard was the tenant. Could I have started farming? I recall that my uncle Carl had helped one of our neighbors during the first year he tried to be a farmer. Would I have borrowed the wherewithal to begin farming from him? I could easily see myself as an Iowa farmer; it would have been easy for me to drift into it, even had I gone into the military and survived it would have been a path of low resistance to me.
Again I feel that events shaped my life and that I exerted no choice in the matter. I went away to Iowa, became a chemical engineer with Shell, but I could just as easily ended up as an Iowa farmer.
Friday, March 18, 2011
The Circus
The picture I have given of my uncle Carl is in large part one of a rather forbidding, iconoclastic, prickly individual. He did however have his lighter moments. One that stands out was his apparent liking for the circus. During my early youth in Gowrie, the town would occasionally be included in the circuit of the smaller traveling circuses. The name that sticks in my mind is Sells-Floto but there may have been others.
Sells-Floto circus poster
One time, I think it must have been while we were still living in Gowrie (although I can’t exclude the possibility that it might have been after the move to the farm) I accompanied him to a circus that had come to Gowrie. It was surely during the summer, which meant that he was taking time off from the ever-present round of farm activities during that time of year to indulge this simple pleasure. I don’t remember if other of my brothers or my sisters was along but I have the vague feeling that some of them were.
The circus was set up in what was then the vacant lots to the south of the Lennarson-Johnson hardware store and mortuary. I think these lots [were used?] for pasturage by the Forsmark dairy and they extended from the M and St. L tracks east for several hundred yards. I have little recollection of what transpired in the performance itself.
On another occasion he was along when the Ringling Brothers, Barnum and Bailey came to Fort Dodge. This time the whole family was along but also my uncle. Again it was during the summertime — perhaps during my father’s annual two-week vacation from his duties at the bank. I have one vivid memory of this circus. Prior to the performance we walked along past a long line of elephants. Perhaps it was on the way in and there may have been cages of other animals. I don’t remember. My uncle had me by the hand as we walked past the elephants, with me being closer to them. I was frightened at being that close to the elephants so I switched to his other side. He was amused by this and afterward related the incident to other members of the family. I felt rather sheepish.
Sells-Floto circus poster
One time, I think it must have been while we were still living in Gowrie (although I can’t exclude the possibility that it might have been after the move to the farm) I accompanied him to a circus that had come to Gowrie. It was surely during the summer, which meant that he was taking time off from the ever-present round of farm activities during that time of year to indulge this simple pleasure. I don’t remember if other of my brothers or my sisters was along but I have the vague feeling that some of them were.
The circus was set up in what was then the vacant lots to the south of the Lennarson-Johnson hardware store and mortuary. I think these lots [were used?] for pasturage by the Forsmark dairy and they extended from the M and St. L tracks east for several hundred yards. I have little recollection of what transpired in the performance itself.
On another occasion he was along when the Ringling Brothers, Barnum and Bailey came to Fort Dodge. This time the whole family was along but also my uncle. Again it was during the summertime — perhaps during my father’s annual two-week vacation from his duties at the bank. I have one vivid memory of this circus. Prior to the performance we walked along past a long line of elephants. Perhaps it was on the way in and there may have been cages of other animals. I don’t remember. My uncle had me by the hand as we walked past the elephants, with me being closer to them. I was frightened at being that close to the elephants so I switched to his other side. He was amused by this and afterward related the incident to other members of the family. I felt rather sheepish.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Laundry
Before the move to the farm while our family still resided in the little brown house, either aunt Ruth or aunt Esther would often walk across the town from my grandmother’s house to help my mother with housework. I think it was usually one day a week, typically on wash day which fell early in the week — Monday sticks in my mind. I suppose they also assisted with the ironing afterward — although usually that would be done on a later day.
Aunt Ruth of course had lived at my grandmother’s during all the time of our being in the little brown house, whereas my aunt Esther was there a part of the time, after her release from Cherokee. So it is likely that my aunt Ruth was the one who spent more days helping my mother. But I am quite sure that my aunt Esther participated also.
By chance I recall one incident between me and aunt Esther. We were having lunch together just the town of us — I don’t recollect where the other members of the family were and why they were absent. The meal consisted of potatoes and gravy and there was not enough potatoes for the both of us. So aunt Esther had her gravy on a piece of bread. It struck me as off, gravy and potatoes were associated in my mind but not bread and gravy.
Washing clothes was a good half day’s work and involved heating the water for the wash in a “wash boiler” on a little stove in our basement, which was dedicated to that purpose. The washing machine tub was made of wood — with staves sort of like a barrel. It was powered by an electric motor. The clothes were first washed, then put through the wringer into the rinse water, then put through the wringer again before hung out to dry. Bluing was put in the rinse water to “whiten” the white clothes.
Most of the time, winter or summer, the clothes were dried outside, occasionally in the winter they would freeze on the line. After drying they were sprinkled with water and rolled into little rolls and tucked into a clothes basket until they were ironed. I guess the sprinkled water helped in the ironing process. After the washing step was finished, all the wash water was used to wash down the basement floor, running down into the drain.
Heating the water for the wash was required as more hot water was needed than could be expected from the hot water tank behind the kitchen stove.
Aunt Ruth of course had lived at my grandmother’s during all the time of our being in the little brown house, whereas my aunt Esther was there a part of the time, after her release from Cherokee. So it is likely that my aunt Ruth was the one who spent more days helping my mother. But I am quite sure that my aunt Esther participated also.
By chance I recall one incident between me and aunt Esther. We were having lunch together just the town of us — I don’t recollect where the other members of the family were and why they were absent. The meal consisted of potatoes and gravy and there was not enough potatoes for the both of us. So aunt Esther had her gravy on a piece of bread. It struck me as off, gravy and potatoes were associated in my mind but not bread and gravy.
Washing clothes was a good half day’s work and involved heating the water for the wash in a “wash boiler” on a little stove in our basement, which was dedicated to that purpose. The washing machine tub was made of wood — with staves sort of like a barrel. It was powered by an electric motor. The clothes were first washed, then put through the wringer into the rinse water, then put through the wringer again before hung out to dry. Bluing was put in the rinse water to “whiten” the white clothes.
Most of the time, winter or summer, the clothes were dried outside, occasionally in the winter they would freeze on the line. After drying they were sprinkled with water and rolled into little rolls and tucked into a clothes basket until they were ironed. I guess the sprinkled water helped in the ironing process. After the washing step was finished, all the wash water was used to wash down the basement floor, running down into the drain.
Heating the water for the wash was required as more hot water was needed than could be expected from the hot water tank behind the kitchen stove.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Aunt Esther
Aunt Esther survived my uncle for a short while. Whereas uncle Carl was somewhat of a problem to the staff at the home, aunt Esther was an uncomplaining inmate, thankful for the care and concern given her. Like my uncle she was always sort of a thin person, not tall or as stooped in old age as my grandmother was. Like uncle Carl she never married.
Early in life she functioned as a cook in the Hubbell household in Des Moines. The Hubbells were rather wealthy, and I think politically active, family in Iowa. I seem to remember being shown a rather imposing home belonging to the Hubbell family, which may have been for all I know where she worked.
The Hubbell menage resembled a little the staff in the TV show “Upstairs, Downstairs.” The Hubbell servants may have been an even larger group than in the TV show. For example, aunt Esther cooked only for the servants, there was a second cook for the members of the Hubbell family itself. I was never aware of her working in Des Moines, so it must have been before I was born or when I was quite young.
When I first became aware of her she was working at the Deaconess Institute in Omaha. It is not clear to me what the precise nature of the functions carried out at the Institute but it did involve nursing care for elderly persons. My aunt Hulda (actually my grandmother Strand’s sister) spent her last years there. Nor do I know what aunt Esther did when she worked there. Apparently while there she suffered a nervous breakdown, perhaps from overwork, but my sister says it was also associated with her menopause.
Following her breakdown, aunt Ester spent a period at the Iowa institution at Cherokee for the mentally disturbed. I can sort of recall the goings on in the family at the time of her trouble and her enrollment at Cherokee, also the occasional trips the members of the family made to see her there. But I do not remember jsut when they took place. Perhaps in the late 1920s. She was discharged from Cherokee I think in a not completely recovered condition, but her convalescence proceeded well in the calm atmosphere of my grandmother’s house.
She never resumed any work outside the home and she lived out her days either there or in the home in Madrid. She did housework — like cleaning— all at home but not much cooking. As long as she lived my grandmother dominated the cooking activities in her kitchen.
Esther Peterson, date unknown
As aunt Esther aged she became increasingly afflicted by arthritis which crippled her hands leaving them gnarled and misshapen. Indomitable as always she engaged in what she termed her therapy, namely playing on the piano. She must not have been able to play much, certainly later on as her hands got worse. I seem to recall that it was she who had piano lessons early in the Peterson household, and it was she who instructed her younger sisters in piano playing. I know my mother played the piano, and of course aunt Ruth did; whether Lillian or Laurine had the facility I don’t know.
As I’ve written my aunt Esther lived out her last days at the home in Madrid. She died less than a year I believe after uncle Carl died.
Early in life she functioned as a cook in the Hubbell household in Des Moines. The Hubbells were rather wealthy, and I think politically active, family in Iowa. I seem to remember being shown a rather imposing home belonging to the Hubbell family, which may have been for all I know where she worked.
The Hubbell menage resembled a little the staff in the TV show “Upstairs, Downstairs.” The Hubbell servants may have been an even larger group than in the TV show. For example, aunt Esther cooked only for the servants, there was a second cook for the members of the Hubbell family itself. I was never aware of her working in Des Moines, so it must have been before I was born or when I was quite young.
When I first became aware of her she was working at the Deaconess Institute in Omaha. It is not clear to me what the precise nature of the functions carried out at the Institute but it did involve nursing care for elderly persons. My aunt Hulda (actually my grandmother Strand’s sister) spent her last years there. Nor do I know what aunt Esther did when she worked there. Apparently while there she suffered a nervous breakdown, perhaps from overwork, but my sister says it was also associated with her menopause.
Following her breakdown, aunt Ester spent a period at the Iowa institution at Cherokee for the mentally disturbed. I can sort of recall the goings on in the family at the time of her trouble and her enrollment at Cherokee, also the occasional trips the members of the family made to see her there. But I do not remember jsut when they took place. Perhaps in the late 1920s. She was discharged from Cherokee I think in a not completely recovered condition, but her convalescence proceeded well in the calm atmosphere of my grandmother’s house.
She never resumed any work outside the home and she lived out her days either there or in the home in Madrid. She did housework — like cleaning— all at home but not much cooking. As long as she lived my grandmother dominated the cooking activities in her kitchen.
Esther Peterson, date unknown
As aunt Esther aged she became increasingly afflicted by arthritis which crippled her hands leaving them gnarled and misshapen. Indomitable as always she engaged in what she termed her therapy, namely playing on the piano. She must not have been able to play much, certainly later on as her hands got worse. I seem to recall that it was she who had piano lessons early in the Peterson household, and it was she who instructed her younger sisters in piano playing. I know my mother played the piano, and of course aunt Ruth did; whether Lillian or Laurine had the facility I don’t know.
As I’ve written my aunt Esther lived out her last days at the home in Madrid. She died less than a year I believe after uncle Carl died.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
More about Uncle Carl
Uncle Carl and namesake nephew, Carl Strand, circa 1921
My uncle Carl was a man of rather slight build and not very tall. I don’t think he ever weighed more than 150 lbs. He was however a prodigious worker but suffered from sensitivity to the summer heat — particularly after one time (before we were on the farm) when he became overheated while working.
He wore glasses for reading but never when working or driving. One time he was picked up for driving without his glasses (this was after I had left home to work for Shell) I suppose he had used them on the reading part of the driving test and the restriction was on his license. His license was temporarily suspended, and being the law-abiding individual he was — started used in old bicycle he had. Eventually he convinced the authorities that he could drive safely without his glasses.
In later years he was hard of hearing — perhaps because of the years of exposure to the loud exhaust of his tractors had injured the mechanism of his ears. He tried out various hearing aids but was never able to find one that satisfied him and I think he never used one despite his impairment. For all his willingness to try out new things (for example he was one of the first to use rubber tires on his Farmall or one of the first farmers to start to grow soybeans instead of oats) he was occasionally singularly unadaptable to accommodating himself to something that was to him less that totally satisfactory.
Though he worked hard from early spring to late fall, winter was a time of almost total inactivity for him. This period of inactivity brought on the indefinite malady of “winter sickness” which I think was largely just ennui. In fact this was a malady of the hole of my grandmother’s menage — the other members of the household had it as well. Being cooper up in the house with the same day-to-day contact with the same individuals with not enough to keep oneself occupied brought this psychological feeling on.
I guess I shouldn’t write that he was totally inactive during the winter. At some time he decided to heat the house with corncobs (no coal) and this required fairly frequent trips downstairs to the furnace for refueling. Corncobs give a hot fire but they burn up rather quickly. For overnight hours he developed a “banking” procedure which I visualized as having a large charge to one side of the firebox in the furnace, with the fire slowly burning its way through the charge of cobs. There were as a rule plenty of cobs from corn shelling to make this feasible. The practice of uncle Carl’s was typical of the man — the most complete utilization of the resources at his disposal. My picture of him on weekdays in the winter at home is his gray-sweatered presence in the rather dimly lit kitchen with his somewhat dour look and his non-talkative habit.
Generally, my uncle Carl enjoyed excellent health. The “winter” sickness which I have discussed was mostly psychological. He apparently had one disability which he never discussed — hemorrhoids. One day, completely out of the blue he took himself to the Lutheran hospital in Fort Dodge to have his condition surgically attended to. As with many other of my recollections I can’t place this as to a specific time, but I have a vague feeling it was before I finished at the university of Iowa and also that I was home at the time. Perhaps one reason I remember was that the discussion of what was happening touched on the fact that his stay at the hospital was free — at the time the hospital was constructed (probably in the early 1930s) he had made a contribution of sufficient size so that as a consequence he had free use of the hospital for the rest of his life.
He was still actively farming around 1950 at the age of seventy. Whether he was still farming all of the 200 acres of the Peterson farm I don’t know, but during the 1950s he gradually reduced his activities with neighboring farms renting part of the farm. The farm was finally sold and the estate settled about 1960 and he moved some of his equipment into town with the idea that he would rent some land and continue a small-scale farming operation (he was past 80 then). This never developed. After Jean and I bought the old Joe Johnson farm, probably in the first year we had it, he helped Vincent at corn picking time, making some of his “bailing-wire” repairs to the crib ion the place which was in rather poor shape. That would have been in the fall of 1961, when he was 82. I think this is correct — the information I have would have been secondhand either form Vincent or from my uncle himself.
After my grandmother died (early in 1954) uncle Carl and aunt Esther lived on in the house until such time as they could no longer care for themselves. For a time my mother aided them in their living, I don’t know for how long, but it was long enough that she was given the house by uncle Carl and aunt Esther (who had acquired it as part of their share of the Peterson estate) for her efforts. Finally though uncle Carl and aunt Esther moved to the home in Madrid for the rest of their lives.
There uncle Carl retained his usual prickly character to the disapproval of the staff. He would go for walks, apparently fairly extended, and the staff couldn’t keep track of him and where he was — I suppose they felt an obligation for the welfare and safety of the inmates. Also by that time he had developed a heart condition and periodically he would either neglect or refuse to take his medicine. Perhaps he was just wishing to die from a heart attack. After all, his father, my grandfather had refused any medical treatment in the last year of his life though I am told he suffered considerably from the cancer that eventually ended his life.
Another thorn in the side of the staff at the home was his using the room to work on clocks. Various individuals would bring him clocks for repair and fixing up and these would litter the table in his room to the discomfiture of whoever of the personnel who had the job of cleaning. I can recall seeing parts of clocks on the table in his room the couple of times I visited him in Madrid. I think I was along on these visits, perhaps I stopped by in Iowa while on a business trip. Uncle Carl and aunt Esther had adjoining rooms at the home and I guess my uncle aided aunt Esther who by that time was quite severely crippled by arthritis.
The last time I saw my uncle was on one of my visits to the home in Madrid. He was somewhat stooped and his walk was somewhat of a slow shuffle, like a very old person without much “spring” in their walk. It was a little difficult to carry on a conversation with him because of his deafness. When he couldn’t hear well enough to ascertain what was being said he did not really respond, such as asking me to repeat what I’d just said. Instead his face would assume sort of a passive, faraway look (actually even in his prime he would often get a similar, rather blank look, as if what was being said or discussed was something on which he had no opinion, or which he thought politely had no significance either to him or any thinking person). I suppose that I stayed perhaps a half hour or so on these visits.
The two Carls, at the home in Madrid, Iowa, probably mid to late 1960s
One thing I remember from these visits was the stale smell of the place, as of unwashed clothes, bodies, floors etc. I suppose that persons encountering this kind of institutional smell become accustomed and inured to it so it doesn’t bother them or they don’t notice it. It did bother me and I hope I am never in such a circumstance. The visits were depressing to me.
Sometime after my last visit he had his last illness, what it was I don’t really know. After a stay in the local hospital he died at about the age of 88. Somehow or other I heard that he had arranged [not?] for a simple casket, but a rather expensive and unusual copper vault for the protection of his mortal remains, pending the day of resurrection. I felt saddened as much as when I saw him on my last visit.
Uncle Carl's gravestone, Gowrie, Iowa
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