Chapter 6: Visitors

Many visitors did come to our home on the farm, some welcome, others not so welcome. Even in pioneer days the Indians had moved from these parts, but Mother had one experience when Indians came when she was alone at home with her little ones and frightened her very much. However, they only begged for some potatoes and she left her wash bench to get some, forgetting that she had slipped off her wedding ring and laid it on the bench. When she returned, an Indian squaw was admiring the ring now on her finger, but surprisingly she gave it back when she saw Mother’s frantic fear of losing her precious ring.

Gypsies also came in bands, begging, trading horses, and also stealing if they had the chance. Mother had told us that gypsies would steal little children, and we were afraid when we saw them coming along the road and would run and hide. One morning on my way to school, as I came up the small hill about half way, I saw a large moving object turning at the corner. Gypsies, I was sure! Leaving my dinner pail by a fence post, I ran back as fast as my little legs could carry me. When, after awhile, a farmer’s lumber wagon came along, I realized that I had run for nothing, and moreover that day I was late to school.

We had very slow horses and could never count on less than one hour to cover the four miles to town. One Sunday we passed a band of gypsies who had stopped at a place about two miles from home. For once the horses were urged to make more speed so that we had time to reach home, unhitch the horses and get in the house, lock the doors, and draw the shades as if no one were home. However, we children couldn’t forbear peeking from behind the shades and were seen by the gypsy who came to the door. It was very difficult to get rid of these unwelcome visitors if they once got into your house.

Then there were the tramps, even as we have a few even today. But two of these tramps were regular visitors. In earlier days there was “Kaffe-Olle” who was thus called because he always carried a coffee pot in his bundle and never failed to beg for coffee. On his first visit, Mother was very much frightened and taking the children ran down to the neighbors. However, he was quite harmless, and later she learned that though he would enter the house without knocking, he would only rest awhile, ask for his coffee and then go.

In later years there was “Jonte-Kalle,” a half witted man who made his regular rounds in our community. One of our neighbors took pity on him and had a place where he could sleep. How well I remember the tall gaunt man just sitting silently for a long time, starving vacantly at nothing. After Mother gave him something to eat, he was ready to start tramping along the road again. In his old age the authorities tried to keep him at the poor farm, but he was not satisfied to be there, and resumed his aimless wanderings.

Welcome to us children, though not to Mother, were the peddlers who were frequent visitors. Some drove an old bony horse hitched to a cart. Others carried large packs on their backs. It would happen at times that a peddler prevailed on Mother to keep him over night. In the large east hall was room for an old cot where she let him sleep; locking the door securely to the rest of the house. There was expectancy in our childish hearts when the next morning the peddler would open his packs and spread out his wares. It was to us like a glimpse into wonderland, as we stood spell-bound looking at the assortment of glittering trinkets, laces, ribbons, cloth, notions, etc. For in those days there were not dime or variety stores! Finally, Mother would choose her pay for her lodging, but she always got useful things, never any of the glittering baubles.

Most of the peddlers were Jews or Armenians who barely could speak the English language, but they were shrewd. Just lately I read an interesting account of how the six Jewish Younker Brothers, one century ago began their business by peddling their wares in Eastern Iowa. Now the large Younkerstores are flourishing in several cities in Iowa.

As time went one, some of the young people of the community were ready for marriage, and then there would be a great event, with all the neighbors invited to the wedding, but not the children of course. It was Mother’s custom to bring home to us her beautiful large orange, always one of the delicacies of the wedding feast, and the only oranges we ever tasted in our childhood.

At these weddings uninvited folks would come and “shivaree” the bride and groom. Bringing all kinds of noise makers, een shotguns, they would surround the house and make an awful clamor until the groom came and and treated cigars. Often they also wanted money. Small as I was, I well remember how we children at home were much frightened hearing such a “shivaree” at a neighbor’s house a mile from our place.

But there were also welcome visitors. How happy we were when we saw some of the Callerstroms come driving their white horse named “Peggoty,” or “Peg” for short. Or when about once every summer Uncle Frank’s family from Madrid came for an over night visit, their light surrey filled with the Anderson cousins, second cousins they were. Aunt Emma, Mother and the little folks would visit in the house, but Uncle Frank would get us older ones started on interesting games, and how we played! From Madrid it was almost a day’s drive even with Uncle Frank’s light-footed team, so quite early the next morning they had to start back home.

The Callerstrom daughters, first cousins of Emma Sophia Sjostrand Peterson. Front, Lily Hanna (Hannah?) and Daisy. I do not know the names of the two in back. From a Google search, I learned that Lily married David Vikner, and went to China as a Lutheran missionary. While there, she bore three children — Ruth, David, and Carl. Ruth died in 2011, in Chelan, Washington, about half a day's drive from where I now live in Seattle. I would have liked to have known this sooner; I would have tried to contact her. On another front, when I did a search for "Callerstrom" I found several individuals with that surname living in the Minneapolis area. I'm guessing that they would be my third cousins.

With our slower moving horses, we never did drive as far as to Madrid. Even the 18 miles to the Seashores south of Dayton would mean a 4 or 6 hour ride. With old “Hallie” who was the nice looking but slow footed single horse that we used to drive, we counted on it taking six hours to drive to Fort Dodge.

For many years the lumber wagon was the means of travel. Father was the first in our community to buy a spring wagon, a lighter vehicle. This had two seats, one of which could be removed when not needed for passengers. It was years later before we had covered carriages and top buggies. These both had detachable side curtains which were used only in bad weather. When there was snow in winter, many could pile into the old bob-sled, the wagon box mounted on double sled runners. I remember one snowy Christmas morning when an old quit was spread like a tent over the top of the wagon box, but we enjoyed it all. How inspiring to comeinto the church with its lighted candles in the “ljus kronor,” candelabra made to hold tall white candles in two tiers; the arms made of heavy wire and wrapped with fringed strips of tissue paper. Most of the homes owned a “ljus krona.” In church were several; it was only in later years that Christmas trees came into vogue. and electric lights instead of candles.

With such slow means of conveyance, even a visit to a neighbors was a big event but neighbors did some sometimes, many times even on foot. Then there would be neighborhood gatherings or “kalas” at times when several families would meet at some home for a good visit. These gatherings always closed with a devotional period before all left for their separate homes. Many of these neighbors came from the so-called pietists of the old country, and religion played an important part in their lives and they appreciated these gatherings for fellowship.

Yes there was fellowship and visiting even though the distances seemed farther because of slow means of travel. There were deep bonds of friendship in those days, which meant much to all. On Father’s and Mother’s twentieth anniversary, the Callerstroms had arranged a surprise for them. How well I recall, though I was but 8 years old, how we children coming walking home from a long day of Swedish school in the Telleen schoolhouse, say many buggies in the barn yard and a large group of people gathered in the front yard. Feeling embarrassed because of our bare and dusty feet, we wondered what it was all about. A lovely set of green-sprigged dishes was given to the folks by the friends as a remembrance of that occasion.