By Nancy Lundwall Roberg
THE LUNDWALL REUNION --- JULY 3, 1982
Jan 1 – Greetings to you, all you descendant people of Andrew and Margaret Lundwall and Andrew and Louisa Ekquist and most important to us, Oscar Fritz Lundwall and Teckla Matilda.
First, and most important, how wonderful it is to have you here. Many thanks to all of you for coming and many thanks to Janet for the inspiration and all the work this has required.
I want to give you some insight into this family from my eyes and knowledge, and there are others who had added to this.
Believe me, I am very proud of all of you. Can you believe what Teckla and Oscar have started! Trying to explain ancestry and where this all started is a great mystery. The more I read, talk with people--and now being at age 73--life on this earth is very mysterious. Many human beings are brilliant – as we know of many things being done – but God does limit us earthlings. Ray and I are not to be counted in this – nor is Hazel who died at age 5. Some of us remember Grandma Ekquist who lived with us many years and was a wonderful person and helper to our mother. She died at age 89 in the summer of 1937 in Homestead, Wisconsin, at Aunt Allen and Uncle Charlie’s home.
I will quote from a note—written by Louisa’s father, Olaf Olson—and which I copied about 20 years ago from a writing in Aunt Ida’s (Osterberg) possession.
“Our dear dotter Lovisa – born Nov 21, 1847 left for America the 14th of Sept 1880 with two children – Ellen (born June 1, 1877) in Sweden, 3 years old; and Ida (born Oct 5, 1878), 2 years old.
Lovisa Olson married to Andrew Ekquist in Gefle, Sweden in 1874. Left for America in 1880, came to Florence, Wisconsin, on Nov 15, 1880. The 3rd of December, another daughter was born, Julia. A son Emil was born on Feb 15th1882. In 1883 – April, moved to Homestead, Wisconsin (Ida’s words – no road – almost drowned in swamp). Evan (was born) January 12, 1884; Willard, August 12, 1887; and Teckla, the 23rd of April 1889.
Written by Olaf Olson – father of Lovisa: I shall write about our coming to America. We left Sweden in 1888 – was received by our dotter Lovisa and son-in-law Andrew Ekquist. My wife died the 11th of July 1892 after seven weeks of illness, at the age of 68. I miss her very much, but the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh.”
Grandma Ekquist, as we have always called her, was very religious. I remember her opening the door to visitors and greeting them with a bible verse, and the same when they left. One Christmas Eve, Ward and I walked with her to Iron River to church, a good three miles one way. She was always so helpful, so soft-spoken in Swedish, and so kind. How I wish I had had the vision to ask her about her early life. That would have been a real story.
When we lived in the Berkshire Location in Caspian (it was called Palatka then), we had a nice home. Dad always had a nice garden, and we had a cow, chickens and a pig. We lived, in total, seven places: Iron Mountain, Commonwealth, Stambaugh, Palatka (Caspian), Michigamme, Palmer, and Stambaugh.
One Memorial Day morning, the cow had not come home and I had to look for it. I met Walter Lundwall coming from the mine in his little car, called a runabout in those days, and he helped me. We found the cow but it would not go home. A man came out of his house in Caspian, and he wanted to know why we were chasing his cow. Walter was so mad at me, and I was mortified. When I got home, our cow had been home and was milked.
We had many wonderful lifelong friends there, especially Frank and Hulda Hughes. One story from Huldy was about Grandma Ekquist. It was customary for us children to see the older people pour their hot coffee from their cups into their saucers, put a lump of sugar into their mouths, and then drink the coffee from their saucers. Grandma always did this, and one time when she was visiting Huldy’s mother, Grandma Thorin, and she was being treated with coffee, she complained that the coffee was very hot. Grandma Thorin suggested that she pour the coffee into her saucer. Grandma Ekquist answered haughtily and said, “That, I will never do!”
One other mention of Grandma Ekquist. She must have felt that little Hazel was not going to live (none of us had been baptized), (as) she took it up on herself to baptize Hazel. I was standing at the foot of the bed when she did this. She was a remarkable woman--poor, widowed for a long time and dependent on others. She spent a lot of her time at the carpet loom making carpets – an absolute necessity for all families in those days. Our move to Michigamme in 1923 was a good one, thanks to Uncle Willard Ekquist who was there ahead of us and must have written our dad about an opening for a steam shovel operator, as our dad was, and also thanks to Henry Ford as well. We lived there for 11 years. They were good years for me – a high school a mile away where I entered the 10th grade.
DORIS’S REMEMBRANCES: One thing I remember is the only time I went swimming is when Ray would go and I was afraid he would drown. Because of his balance, he fell down twice in the water and I was there to pick him up.
I also have to mark down about a 4th of July. Teddy Carkeek dropped a match in Dad’s big bag of fireworks and the whole thing went up at one time. Didn’t find out who did it until about ten years ago when I went to visit Mrs. Art Carkeep; we were talking about it, and she said it was Teddy. Ha. Of course, it wasn’t funny at the time. Mrs. Carkeek has been gone for some time now.
MARGARET’S REMEMBRANCES: Before Christmastime arrived, a package would arrive from Nancy. Mother would put it up on the shelf in the closet, and we would count the days until it could be opened up on Christmas; and what a joyous occasion it would be. Dad would light the candles on the tree, so we all had to sit real still while they were on. We sang carols while we trimmed the tree. Who remembers “This Merry Merry Christmas Time”?
Who remembers the thornberries we used to eat? We used to get them behind Andrew Perry’s. The tree used to be full of them.
Dad would take us for a ride on Sunday afternoon and finally we would stop and he would say, “We have come to the end of the world.” We would turn around and come home. I believed him, of course.
Grandma Ekquist lived with us, and one time she was cutting carpet rags while Mother was washing clothes, and cut Dad’s underwear. Maybe they weren’t in too good shape anyway.
Mother would talk to Dad in Dad in Swede, and Dad would answer in English. The only time they would (both) talk in Swede was when they didn’t want us to know what they were talking about. And Dad would swear in Swede.
The time we went to Stambaugh from Michigamme: Mother was away taking care of Grandma. She was very ill at the time. Anyway, we had so many flat tires that it took us all day to get there.
When a new baby was born, we kids sure slept sound, as the next morning, the big bed would be down in the living room and Mother would be in bed with the new baby beside her. We didn’t know about babies until we were almost adults. Times sure have changed.
VIOLET’S REMEMBRANCES: Thinking back to my childhood, the first thing I can remember is getting a ride down some steps in a wagon at the tender age of 5. My brother Ward liked me so much he decided to do the honors. I remember the five-cent double-dip ice cream cones, our front porch swing. Then we moved to Imperial Mine, where we had fun pulling water up in a bucket from a well which belonged to Grandma Olson. From there, we moved to the top of the Hill to a bigger house which had an inside bathroom, and we had a cow, chickens, rabbits, and a dog but no cat (mother didn’t like cats). We lived at the end of the block, where we were free to wander in the open fields, where in the summertime we picked berries and the May flowers. In the fall, we picked apples, thornapples, and cherries. In the winter, we skied, went sleigh-riding and snow-shoeing. We only had one sleigh, one pair of skis, and one pair of snowshoes.
As we all grew, the house became smaller. Mother sewed all our clothes. She used to let us dress up in her pretty, long dresses in the trunk upstairs. We played button, button, who’s got the button? We played it on the stairs up to the bedroom. The first doll I got was in a shoebox – no clothes on it. I was taught how to make some for it.
I would have liked to hear Mother play the guitar that was carefully stored in the closet upstairs.
I was a tomboy – played baseball, kick the can, and hide-go-seek. Never ladylike – always wanted to wear my brother’s pants – easier to run, but Mother said she had enough boys.
I almost drowned twice – once while picking pussywillows with Sarah Mattson and once with my sister Margaret, swimming in Lake Michigamme, where we used to go for picnics.
Alice, remember I poured boiling water on your hands by accident – what a lucky thing we put cold water on them. We were afraid to tell Mother – I don’t know if we ever did. When I got to high school, I was able to buy or get my first dress, and I believe I went to the junior prom in that dress, stag, with two other girls (we were sophomores). Needless to say, we didn’t dance at all. I don’t think I even knew how. They used to dance after the basketball games in the gym. We also had to sneak in because there was no money. When we got to Palmer, I was in my junior year. Worked for NYA after school. I was very shy, but from what my classmates told me, I used to giggle a lot. Bought my class ring with money I earned – it cost $8.50. Palled around with Myrtle Prisk. We went skating in Negaunee, watched boxing matches because they danced afterwards. How did we get there? We hitchhiked the five miles between Palmer and Negaunee. No matter how late I came in on Saturday night, I went to church on Sunday – Mother’s rules. Besides, I liked to go. That was one place we could go and wear our Sunday best. We never missed going for mail at Davidson’s Store. Besides, by that time, I began to notice boys. You know the saying: Sweet Sixteen and never been kissed?--that was me, believe it or not. After high school, I went to Trout Creek and worked with Doris doing housework. We worked hard, but we have a lot of great memories. We danced every Saturday night. That fall, I went to Chicago. Dad had said, “Why don’t you get out of this small town and see some of the rest of the world?” Besides, there was no work except housework and hotel work, so here I am in Chicago.
There is so much more, but that is some of what I remember. I don’t ever remember asking Mother or Dad if they loved me, just took it for granted. Love to me was them taking care of us. We were warm and had food to eat. They must have worried a lot, having such a large brood to take care of. It took a lot of character, stamina, and love to do so.
ALICE’S REMEMBRANCES: I remember all of us girls sharing one big bedroom in Imperial Mine.
Also, when Dad took us to Three Lakes for a day, we came home and found we had a new brother, Kenneth.
Also I remember Grandpa Lundwall. He used to take me down to Bruno’s (I think), the candy store, for candy.
I also remember going to Michigamme Beach to swim and have picnics.
When I burnt my hand and my intelligent sister ran cold water over it, I never even had a blister. How did you know what to do, Violet?
Picking raspberries and blueberries. Never did I realize that picking was the easiest job. Mom had to clean and can them.
I remember having to go to bed early every night with Janet until I was about 13 or 14. But then that bedroom was way upstairs and down the hall. I read her stories and told her nursery rhymes. No wonder she was such a good kid.
Also, the times you and I shared together, Nan – the apartments and you getting me a job at Long’s – and forgiving me for getting married so unexpectedly – but then Doris encouraged it, unbeknown to you. She told me Earl Dishaw was one of the nicest boys in Trout Creek. Remind me to send her a Thank You note.
I’ve had a very busy and sometimes hectic life, but I thank God for every minute of it. And I am thankful and proud I was born a Lundwall. When I was young I often wished I was born of a wealthy, highly educated family, but that is very minute compared to the trials and tribulations and love of a large family like ours. So may the Lord bless us all.
NANCY’S MEMORIES (CONTINUED): I never minded school. It was time with friends and an escape from housework and babies. Basketball was the most interesting sport of the area, and we attended all the games. One year Ward and I wanted to go to the tournament in Marquette, and Dad was reluctant to let us go. Finally, he consented and the two of us ran pell-mell about a mile to the Spur station and flagged down the train that would take us to Marquette. It was coming down the track as we reached the station.
Dad’s first car was a Ford, bought for him by his father, who was living with us soon after we moved to Michigamme and at the same time Grandma Ekquist was with us. Altogether, we were 11 in the household, and Kenneth arrived three months after we moved to Michigamme, making it 12.
One of the absolute “musts” in the summer was berry picking – raspberries and blueberries mostly. Believe me – it was one of our standbys during the winter months. All of you remember this chore and all have mentioned it in their writings.
Imperial Mine was one mile from Michigamme. The family moved to Palmer in 1934, but the years in Michigamme were most enjoyable as far as I can remember. Lake Michigamme was nearby, and a school. Basketball was the sport at least seven months of the year. I was a cheerleader, and when Dad saw me jumping around, he informed me that I could no longer do that. I am not sure what changed his mind, but nothing more was said and I continued my cheerleading. In 1926, Michigamme won the State championship in Ann Arbor, class D.
In November of 1926, Ray and I left for Detroit and Flint, and Ray entered the State School for the Deaf at age 7. Lloyd was 3 months old. Kenneth was 3.
As I mentioned before, this home had a bathroom—the first one. Grandma could not accept this and refused to use it and always headed for the woods. It took some explanation for her to accept this addition to our home.
MARGARET’S INSERT: Dad would take us to a berry patch, then he would go fishing. He would come back with his basket full of fish and his hat full of berries. We really picked a lot of berries. I wish I had a nickel for every quart of berries I picked. Maybe I would be rich now.
NOW BACK TO NANCY’S: Dad was a great fisherman and hunter, and it helped a lot with the food bill. I remember him walking in the door with his fish basket and also carrying a small branch in which were a couple of fish, below the required size allowed. He never said so, but I think they were. No doubt he could have gotten rid of it easily if a game warden came along.
We all remember Dad’s great love for baseball; his favorite was the Chicago Cubs. Alice and I had plans for him to come to Detroit to a World Series, but Detroit lost in the final playoffs and so our plans did not materialize.
Dad’s mother passed away when he was 11 years old, and life was not easy for him. Dad’s writing was beautiful, unusual too. He was a left hander. I have several letters of his, and I feel he could have been a poet if he had really put his mind to it. I think he finished the 4th grade.
Now – just something a little bit different about Teckla and Oscar. Let me tell you this, by asking a question. How far back can you remember? Or how young were you when you were aware of yourself? Here is my story: We were living in Commonwealth, Wisconsin, and I was sitting in the high chair, being fed by Mother. Dad appeared in the doorway, and harsh words must have been spoken. I can just remember Mother’s words: “Go ahead and shoot.” Apparently, that was the end of the argument. What potential all of us have, and in many different ways. The written word is one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful in the world, and reading it and using it is a plus for all of us. And more important, it is working, and I know all of us will say “yes” to that.
Many of us do not use our potential. Do we lack the push, or weren’t we directed properly from childhood on? Regardless of direction, it seems there is a divine guidance that arranges our lives. I know it did mine, and I am as sure of this as I am standing here.
How wonderful it would be for our brother Lloyd to see his family, and we surely remember him in many ways. I don’t remember him as most of you, as I was gone from home. He and Kenneth were involved in World War II, which for any service man must have had serious effect on their lives. I know Lloyd did not (have time to) live up to his potential, and I know Lloyd would be proud of his children.
Mother lived to be 78, Dad to 60, and their lives were busy ones. They never owned a home, never had much money in the bank, kept us clean and fed, sent us to Sunday School, whichever was close by: Presbyterian in Gaastra, Methodist Sunday School at Imperial Mine School, and also with Rev. Hammil at the school on Friday nights, and that was Presbyterian.
Dad love to dance and was a good dancer. Mom didn’t dance at all, but I know you remember that Dad had a violin, played the mouth organ; Mom had a guitar, which I never heard her play. I wonder why we weren’t introduced to music through these instruments. Maybe we would have ended up in Nashville. I know they listened to music on the radio – Grand Ole Opry and WLS Barn Dance.
One of the nice things purchased from Sears was the Silverton phonograph. I remember playing “Don’t Bring Lulu” so many times that Dad broke the record.
I don’t want to be negative in this, but one thing we never received was praise. My dear ones, all of you, that is one of the best things you can do for others is to praise instead of finding fault. I learned this from a supervising teacher at the School for the Deaf in Flint, and I have never forgotten it. Mrs. Wilson stressed praise for teaching the deaf even if the pupils just made the effort. Learning speech is so very difficult for the deaf, and effort was praised.
Trying to explain ancestry and where we all start is a great mystery. The more I read, talk with people and now being age 75, life on this earth is very mysterious. Many human beings are brilliant, as we know of many things that have been done, but God does limit us earthlings.
What do I think is important to be healthy? Mentally – keep a positive attitude; keep alert with the world newspapers, books, people. Try not to be critical. It is very tiresome to listen to people complain about others. Help others if you can. Don’t abuse your health. Develop and keep the habit of writing letters. Most of the men were not sitting in the front row when God gave out the gift of letter writing. Huldy Hughes wrote many letters until she was 94 and maybe 95, and I still have some of them. Also, I still have many of your letters, graduation pictures, wedding announcements, baby arrival announcements, and many more. At this time of my life, I must dispose of them except for my one album, which will go to Janet, and which all of you may scan if you wish.
Finally, I definitely want to have a word or two with each one of you. Please don’t forget that.
Twelve children, ten living – that’s a lot of family, and if each one of us told what our life consisted of, it would take a week of visiting. Let’s just say that it is marvelous that each one of us has done very well. I don’t feel it is necessary to give special attention, but I really believe you would want to. Don’t you feel Roger Schubert needs a big hand for his accomplishment? How many have degrees? Norene, Roger, Ron, Ted, Joan, Eugene. Wonderful. (Cathy’s note: At this point in Aunt Nancy's speech, I have been told, an uproar filled the air as my mother's siblings shouted to have their children similarly recognized, while my mother floated on Cloud Nine as Roger tried desperately to disappear into thin air.) More important is to have work that keeps you busy every day. Every job gets tiresome, but looking back at mine, I am glad I stuck it out.
Belief and faith in God, and church membership can be a big plus in your life. I know we could discuss this for a whole week, with many minuses and pluses, but take it from this 73-year-old gal, this is one of your biggest helps. I don’t care which church it is. I hope faith is a part of your life.
Mother’s liniment: How many of you remember mother’s liniment that she made every fall? She made it from eggs, turpentine, and spirits of ammonia; and when one of us came down with a cold, she would put some of this on our throat and chest and put a woolen scarf or square over it. Also, it almost took your breath away, but it really helped. Well, some years ago, I was reading a book about iron mining in this UP area, and the author told how important horses were in the industry of mining and that they got better care than the men. One of the medicines used on the horses was a liniment, and a recipe was given. It was exactly the same liniment as Mother used on us.
Dad always prepared something for the holidays. Doris tells about Dad having a box or bag of fireworks and the whole thing blew up at once. Talking with a former neighbor, Mrs. Carkeek told Doris that it was her son who dropped a match (lighted) into the bag. She told Doris this about ten years ago, over 40 years after it happened.
As so many of you know, Ray spent 15 of his school years at the school for the deaf in Flint—from 1926 to 1941, graduating in 1941. He spent summers at home. One time before he started school, about age 5, he was fascinated by fire and started one in an upstairs closet. Luckily, Henry Ford had fire extinguishers in every home, and Mother carried that heavy extinguisher to the upstairs and put out the fire. I lost a lovely sweater and cap to match in that fire.
Some of you may think that history is not too important at this festive occasion. I want it in writing that when you get to be my age, you will be glad that someone wrote and talked about it. Many good wishes to all of you to have as worthwhile a life as I have had. I am very grateful. Thank you for your time and attention.
Insert on (original) page 4: Teckla Matilda was the youngest of seven children, and Oscar Fritz was the youngest of five.
Grandma – mother of Teckla.
I CANNOT ACCEPT BOREDOM BY ANYONE
One other thing: When I had to have an oral exam before three executives for social work, I was asked for a statement at the end. The only thing I could think of was this: “If one has eyesight, hearing, and can walk, one is a millionaire without a cent in one’s pocket.”
