On the Occasion of our 58th Wedding Anniversary I Remember

I had finished teaching in Fort Dodge and Mike was graduated from Wm Penn.  I was back in Storm Lake and Mike had started at Lutheran Lakeside Camp.  We were 22.

There was something about the wedding license and three days and Mike got it!

My dad had painted the concrete walls in the new house basement.  He was sick. I also think he had an appendicitis attack…untreated.

My matron of honor took my plain old nightgown and put in pretty one!

I had a hair appointment…a set!  I had only had haircuts and one permanent at a beauty shop previously.  I came home and didn’t like it so I combed it out.

Pr. Holmquist, the camp director, sang at our wedding.

Mike and the groomsmen slept at the neighbors.

After the reception at church Mom and Dad hosted supper at their new house.  People had to walk through the neighbors’ yards since they were paving the street.

The bridal party ate in the very new and clean garage!

In the food line Mike’s Dad asked if he had enough money.

On the way out of town, Mike stopped at a car wash!

We stayed in a motel…and even went to church Sunday morning and showed up at camp on Monday.

About a month later, I passed out in the kitchen, and everyone thought I was pregnant. I wasn’t!

 

My Flute

At my school when students were in fifth grade, Mr. Schive, the band director, held an open house of instruments.  I don’t recall having an instrument in mind.  Mr. Schive had each of try mouthpieces.  I just remember flute, clarinet, and trombone.  He suggested flute.

Mom and Dad purchased a flute.  My lesson was once a week with Mr. Schive for 15 minutes.  It was 2:15 on Wednesday in 5^th grade.  I was so proud.  Every Wednesday I wore my “best” school outfit.  Now I wonder if Mr. Schive thought it was the only skirt and blouse I had!

I stayed with flute through high school.  I loved playing in band.  State solo contest always raised nerves…but thankfully the pianist was great.  As a part of band we also participated in contests for both concert band and marching band.  There were also festivals with other schools.  My recollection is AHS Marching Band received lots of I ratings.

From friend Miriam ….“I remember returning from marching band contest on a Saturday night when the stores were open and the shoppers were about. We had not gotten a I rating that year and we were all pretty sad, but we asked the bus driver to let us out by the railroad tracks and we marched down Main Street toward the high school with the trophy we did get held high. We played the Alta School Song and stopped to sing to Mr. Shive—“For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow.”\

And now 70 years later it is time. I didn’t continue to play flute after high school. I’ve kept my flute hoping maybe a grandchild would play flute. I’ve kept it in working order. And now I’ve purchased a new case. Now it is going to a band teacher to give to someone that might experience the joy, challenges, and a place that I found in my flute.

 

In Training

We moved to Storm Lake in 2001 where my parents lived.  On Sunday mornings if I didn’t travel with Mike, I would attend church with Mom and Dad, often sitting beside them.   My dad was independent and in charge.  He knew the way around the hymnal and how the service progressed.  He was ready for church to begin with the hymnal opened to the right page.

After about 4 or 5 years, I noticed that he was taking much longer, checking with the bulletin and finding the hymnal page number.  Sometimes I would try to help, pointing to the page number as he searched the hymnal.  I wanted to honor his dignity.  Sometimes I would find the page in my book and then trade books with him.

Life continued and there were circumstances with Holy Communion of receiving the bread and wine that needed more help and returning to the pew.

And then he and Mom would stay home, and the pastor would bring church to them.

And now my beloved needs help with the hymnal.

 Howard Rask

In life sometimes a person slips in and not until later the impact is realized.  We moved to Sioux City and Augustana the summer of 1992.  Perhaps a year later, member Howard Rask came to our home.  I don’t recall why he came.  I think he was an accountant and perhaps involved with budgeting at Augustana.

I remember Howard as tall and distinguished.  He stood erect.  He must have been in working retirement because he wintered in Texas and returned to Sioux City the rest of the year and did tax returns.  He kept his hair coal black. 

And back to his visit to our home…he asked what dreams or goals we had.  Mike said there had been a dream of a cabin in northern Minnesota, but it didn’t seem realistic with our budget.  Thoughtfully Howard listened and said things like….does it have to be in northern Minnesota?  Do you have to have a cabin?  What do you like to do at a lake?  Could you consider something closer?  You could start by looking at lots.  He also suggested we talk to someone else in Sioux City, Warren Baker.

Our evening ended cordially.  I don’t remember other conversations with Mr. Rask.  Indeed, we started looking around in the Spirit Lake, Iowa. There are many small lakes in the Iowa Great Lakes.  We were led to Loon Lake…about 10 miles south of Jackson, Mn and 10 miles north of Spirit Lake.  We found a bare acre for sale and by January of 1997 we purchased the lot.

In 1999 Mike was contacted by Augustana to do the committal service for Howard in Dunnell, Mn.

Quilting Revisited

 

A visit to Mom’s home and cleaning closets I found parts of a quilt.  And of course, it brought back memories of Mom and quilting with her in the basement in Storm Lake.  Often when my children were young, she would have a quilt set up on the frames and ready to tie.  We’d talk and tie…take a break with children’s duties and coffee.

The quilting frames are 4 long pieces of wood that my grandpa had cut.  He then nailed strong fabric along the edges.  The four pieces were then positioned and secured with C clamps on the backs of chairs.  Well, that sounds easy!  In reality, the frames have to accept the size of the backing.  That of course takes maneuvering and re-clamping.  Next comes the filler and finally the top.  All of this is pulled and pinned. 

Then the tying starts.  We worked around the outside before rolling the quilt.  (Rolling the quilt meant taking off the C clamps and rolling evenly and clamping it again.)

Early on my grandma taught me about tying knots.  She had me tie the first step…over and under to start a square knot.  Next Grandma told me to bring the yarn around both ends and bring it up…like I was tying a horse.  (Alas having never tied a horse, I did learn how she wanted me to tie a quilt!)That made the knot stand up.

When not in use, the quilting frames live in the basement rafters.  They moved to Mason City with us and now live in my basement rafters.

pinning

C clamps

finished and bound

OBITUARY

https://www.fratzkejensen.com/obituaries/Clara-Samuelson/#!/Obituary

February 27, 1922 - August 20, 2023

Brenda's Post

 

Clara’s Lesson

              

                Her lesson was given when I was about five or six years old.  One night, I was visiting with my older sister as we fell asleep.  She was telling me about my father’s mother, a grandmother who I never got to know.  I asked what it meant that our grandmother had “died,” and that’s why I’d never get to see her.  As my sister tried to convey the concept of death to me, I realized death looked like the baby robins that fell out of trees onto the sidewalk.  As we continued our visit, something awful dawned on me, and I asked her if our Siamese cat, Mr. Stubbs, would die.  Yes, he would, someday.  My thoughts jumped from Mr. Stubbs to my grandparents, Adolph and Marie, and yes, someday they would die, too.  Intense fear set it.  I couldn’t imagine life without them.  The fear deepened: Would Mom and Dad die?  Yes, sooner or later.  Then the big one: Would I die?  Yes, sooner or later.

                That did it.  Sobbing hysterically, I ran downstairs to the dining room, where Mom sat on a couch, reading, and taking notes for the college classes she was taking.  Once I was able to catch my breath and verbalize, I asked her if we were all going to die someday.  She calmly told me, yes, but not for a long, long, long time.  During that long time, I would learn many things that would lead me into my forever life, my eternal life, and when the time came, I would go into it without fear because of what I was learning in Sunday School.   Her words soothed me.  Learning the way to heaven would help me to do something about this dilemma called death, something all of us will have to deal with someday.

                My mother’s lesson is profound in its simplicity.  It touches on faith in the infinite Power of Love to take us beyond our timebound lives into our safe eternal home.  Mother believed, and now as the goldenrod turns yellow and a new schoolyear begin, she has entered the Kingdom of Eternal Love.