The man with the (probably not yellow) hat

I inherited my grandmother Golda Slagle Forthun's photographs. Goldie, as she was known, was born in Ravenwood, Nodaway County, Missouri, to Elizabeth Lockhart and William Slagle on March 20, 1889. Goldie's parents were natives of Lee County, Virginia, and migrated to northwestern Missouri in the aftermath of the Civil War. Both Elizabeth and William had siblings and extended family members who also moved to northwestern Missouri, to Nodaway and Gentry counties. Fellow neighbors and friends from Lee County, Virginia, joined them there as well.  I have yet to determine who went first, but there was a large network of family and friends surrounding my grandmother's family.

My grandmother chose to leave this community at age twenty-one, when she left Missouri for western North Dakota in 1910. Her sister, Nettie Slagle Sowards, had given birth to twins, and needed help. Eventually, Goldie moved out on her own, when she filed a Homestead Act claim in McKenzie County, North Dakota. She ultimately proved up her claim, and married a fellow homesteader, Julius Forthun.

When Goldie left Missouri, she took with her a beautiful photo album filled with studio portraits. Sadly, none of the photographs were labeled. I imagine that all of the subjects were close friends and family, so she felt no need to mark them. Although I have been able to determine the names of some of the individuals, there are many that are still mysteries. 

This is one of them. I imagine that this young man was one of Goldie's friends from Nodaway County, or perhaps one of her many, many cousins. Some of the surnames of the extended family in Missouri are Lockhart, Slagle, Lawson, O'Bannon, McNeely, and Babb. The young man was likely born in the 1880's, and given the heavy coat and hat, he probably lived somewhere that had cold winters.  The photo album came with Goldie to North Dakota, to the best of my knowledge, so the photograph was probably taken prior to 1910. And that is the extent of my educated guesses.

The chicken ranch

My maternal great-grandmother, Ingrid Oline Burkum Forthun, in 1925. Lena was the daughter of Norwegian immigrants (her father fought in the Civil War). Born in Wisconsin, Lena married a Norwegian immigrant in the Dakota Territory, bore six children, and homesteaded as a widow in western North Dakota. She was visiting her daughter's chicken ranch in Arkansas at the time of this photograph.

The tailor

Hans Kristian Christoffersen

Hans Kristian Christoffersen was born September 3, 1844, in Andebu, Vestfold, Norway. Vestfold is a county in southern Norway, south of Oslo, and is one of the best agricultural areas of Norway.  Hans Kristian was the eldest of four sons born to Christoffer Hansen and Karen Sophie Christoffersdotter.  Norway had a patronymic naming system until 1923, whereby children took their father’s first name as their last, adding “sen” for son or “dotter” for daughter.

Hans Kristian became a “skrædder” (tailor) by the time he was twenty-one years of age. A tailor made custom clothing for men and women.  In Norway, as well as much of Europe, one’s occupation was a measurement of one’s social status.  Many trades, including tailors, were controlled by guilds.  The guilds regulated the training and practice of tailors, which included an apprenticeship.

The textile industry in Norway started in the 1840’s, around the time of Hans Kristian’s birth, when textile mills were established in the larger cities. An economic crisis along with a population increase shaped Norway in the 1840’s and 1850’s. Norwegians began to emigrate to the United States, and the rural population began to migrate to larger towns and cities. After 1860, the wave of emigration grew larger. The rapid increase in population in Norway meant that times were hard for many, and the appeal of cheap land and opportunity drove people to leave their country for the United States. These events shaped Hans Kristian’s world.

Hans Kristian was thirty-nine years old when he married Mina Martine Jensdatter on September 21, 1883, in Ramnes, Vestfold, Norway, a small village near Andebu, Hans Kristian’s birthplace. This was at a time when the average life expectancy in Norway was about fifty years.  Mina Martine was eighteen years younger than the groom.   The couple moved to the nearby city of Tønsberg, where Hans Kristian and his youngest brother, Anton, established a tailor shop. 

Tønsberg, generally regarded as the oldest town in Norway, was founded during the Viking Age. It is located on the western coast of the Oslofjørd.  Tønsberg is the capital of Vestfold County. In addition to being a commercial and shipping town since the Middle Ages, Tønsberg was a Hansa town. Hansa towns, part of the Hanseatic League, were a confederation of merchant guilds.  Tønsberg’s prosperity increased in the late 1800’s due to international shipping and the whaling industry, making it a good place to establish a tailor shop.

By 1885, Hans Kristian and his family lived on the first floor of a rented house in Tønsberg, and Anton and his family lived on the second floor.  Hans Kristian and Mina Martine had five children: Clara, Charlotte, Hanna, Jens Konrad, and Einar Charles.  Mina Martine was a seamstress, and likely worked along her husband and brother-in-law when she was not tending to the children.

The tailor shop thrived, and the brothers began to hire apprentices. Those apprentices were usually from nearby villages and farms, and lived with the brothers.  One of those apprentices, Nicolai August Andreasen Tangsrød, began to date Hans Kristian’s daughter, Charlotte.

Nicolai left Norway for America in 1905. After establishing himself in western North Dakota, the tailor’s apprentice sent for Charlotte, the tailor’s daughter, who arrived in America in 1907. She married Nicolai in March 1908. They became my grandparents. 

Hans Kristian Christoffersen, my great-grandfather, died on January 19, 1923, in Tønsberg at the age of seventy-eight.

The candidate

 

My father took this photo of then Vice President Richard M. Nixon and his wife Thelma Catherine “Pat” Nixon on June 20, 1960, in Williston, North Dakota, in front of the Grand Movie Theater.

Nixon was running for President against Senator John F. Kennedy, and was campaigning in North Dakota. He was also there on behalf of the Republican Senate candidate.

Two candidates were competing for the U.S. Senate Seat of William “Wild Bill” Langer in a special election set for June 28, 1960. Langer had died in office in 1959, and former Governor Norman Brunsdale was appointed by the current Governor, John Davis, to fill the seat. Governor Davis, a Republican, was now battling it out against Congressman Quentin N. Burdick, the Democrat, for the seat. North Dakota had not sent a Democrat to the Senate in many years, so national Republican leaders were working hard to continue that tradition. New York Governor Nelson M. Rockefeller, among others, also came to the state to campaign for Davis.

Burdick, a native of Munich, North Dakota, was the son of U.S. Representative Usher Burdick, a Republican who regularly voted with the Democrats. Quentin moved to Williston as a young child, where his father farmed and practiced law. He graduated from Williston High School, my alma mater, in 1926.

Burdick ultimately defeated the sitting governor for the Senate seat, and served until 1992 when he died in office as the third longest serving Senator in the nation’s history. Burdick’s senatorial election, three months prior to the Presidential election, led Kennedy strategists to believe that the West was winnable for the Democrat.

I am amazed that my father, an amateur photographer without press credentials, was able to get this close to a sitting Vice President. How times have changed.

The tombstone

The headstone for the three Sowards children: Thomas Edgar (1910-1914), Emmett William (1910-1917), and Grace Mildred (1913-1914), Riverview Cemetery, Williston, North Dakota.

I love cemeteries.  I am always moved by the simple grace and beauty of the headstones and the feeling of reverence that lingers there.

I remember going to cemeteries with my parents as a child, “visiting” family members and friends. It really did feel like visiting. I enjoyed walking around, looking at the names on the headstones, wondering about the lives of those buried there, and trying to decide which headstone was the most interesting. When I grew a little older, my sister, my childhood friends, and I would ride our bikes to Riverview, the local cemetery, and do the same routine.

Riverview Cemetery does not have a river view, and is now located in a residential area.  At 53 acres, it is large by the standards of a small town, and offers many paths to walk or bike. Riverview had its first burial in 1887, which was that of a child.  At the time, the cemetery was located on a hill at the edge of the village of Little Muddy, which later changed its name to Williston.  The cemetery was known as “Williston Cemetery” until 1916. 

My maternal grandparents are buried there, and many family friends were laid to rest there also. Later, my aunts, uncles, and mother were interred there, and visiting the cemetery felt familiar and comforting. 

After my mother died, I began to research her family history. It grew into a passion (some might say an obsession). I inherited my parents’ photographs, and began to digitize them, which further fueled my genealogy interests.

I have always had a soft spot for those that died young. It breaks my heart a little when I walk by a child’s grave.  As I began to research my mother’s family, I realized that three of my mother’s cousins had died young. I wanted to learn more.

My mother’s mother, Goldie Slagle Forthun, moved to western North Dakota from Missouri as a young woman, to help her older sister, Nettie Slagle Sowards, who had given birth to twins, Emmett and Thomas. This move changed the trajectory of Goldie’s life, because she decided to stay in North Dakota, filed a Homestead claim for 320 acres in McKenzie County, North Dakota, and then met and married a fellow homesteader.  That is a whole separate story, with a happy ending, and lots of bitter and sweet times in between.

Nettie’s story is more tragic.  Nettie Ann Slagle and her husband, James Henry Sowards, married in Missouri in 1906, and moved to a farm south of Williston, Williams County, North Dakota, for James’s job with the railroad. Then bad luck visited the young couple:  in April 1908, lightning struck their barn, destroying it and all of its contents, including a cow and four horses. Those animals and the farm equipment were vital to getting the crops in at that time of year, and the financial consequences of that loss were enormous. Nettie gave birth to a daughter, Dorothy, just two months later, in June 1908.  The family seems to have moved off the farm and into Williston by the time twins Emmett and Thomas arrived on February 16, 1910. With three little ones under the age of two, and no one to help her, Nettie sent for her younger sister, Goldie, to help her care for the children.  Another set of twins, Grace Mildred and Morris James, was born on September 21, 1913. By then, Goldie had moved out and was homesteading on her own land more than 30 miles away.  It seems likely that Nettie was overwhelmed with two sets of twins and a rambunctious five year old, but I would like to think that she was also happy, in a house full of activity. Another sibling, John Dorsey Slagle, also moved to the area, and was homesteading near Goldie. Goldie was engaged to be married, and the wedding was set for March 18, 1914. I imagine the two sisters together, planning the wedding, helping each other, and enjoying being near family.

And then the unthinkable happened. On March 7, 1914, Thomas Edgar Sowards, age four, died. His five month old sister, Grace Mildred Sowards, died later that same day. I have been unable to determine the causes of death, but it seems to have been a sudden illness.

Another son, Loren, was born in 1916, which I hope brought some comfort to the family. But then, on March 25, 1917, Thomas’s twin, Emmett William Sowards, died at age seven. His obituary stated that Emmett had suffered from serious stomach problems for two weeks, and that surgery was performed, but he did not survive. I can imagine no loss greater than that of a child, and to lose three children in three years is unfathomable.

More sadness befell the family.  James was forced to file bankruptcy in 1918. Nettie and her husband separated, then divorced, and the family broke apart. They all left North Dakota, except for those three little ones who died. There were no family members living in Williston, and I imagine that it must have broken Nettie’s heart to leave them behind.

But fifty years later, my maternal grandparents sold their farm in neighboring McKenzie County, and moved into Williston. By then, my mother had settled there as well. My grandparents bought a plot in Riverview Cemetery, as did my parents, aunts and uncles, and our connection to Riverview Cemetery began. Or so I assumed.

As I researched the family, I discovered that Thomas, Emmett and Grace had all died in Williston. And that meant that they were likely buried in Williston. I searched everywhere, scoured records, requested their death records, and contacted distant relatives, but their burial location seemed to be lost to time.  So, in 2013, my sister and I went to Williston to visit my mother’s grave, but with another ulterior motive. It seemed more likely than not that the three children were buried in what is now Riverview Cemetery.  We were determined to find them after all these years. After a fruitless effort to discover the graves on our own, we enlisted the help of the cemetery caretaker. After consulting the cemetery map and other documents, we confirmed that the children were buried there, but the exact location of their graves was unclear due to conflicting information. We narrowed down the probable site, and began to walk with a purpose. It was an older area of the cemetery, probably the original area, and there were many unmarked graves, as well as headstones that were damaged and deteriorated. We were about to give up hope, when we saw this small white marker. And we realized that there were not three graves, but one.  And this was it.

The epitaph reads: “No pains, no griefs, no anxious fears, can reach our loved ones sleeping here.”

The teacher

Nellie Marie Forthun Dahl, circa 1906
 

This is my great-aunt, Nellie Marie Forthun Dahl. She was the older sister of my maternal grandfather, Julius Matthew Forthun.

Nellie was born in Traill County, Dakota Territory (later North Dakota), in 1886. Her father, a Norwegian immigrant, died when she was 13 years old. At a time when less than 10% of men were high school graduates, Nellie graduated from Mayville State Teachers College (North Dakota) in 1906 and became a teacher. While teaching, she also filed a Homestead Claim in McKenzie County, North Dakota, as a single woman. She married a fellow homesteader, Christ Dahl, a Norwegian immigrant, in 1910. Nellie gave birth to a stillborn baby girl in May 1918, and died less than two months later at age 32, likely as a result of heart problems complicated by childbirth. She left behind a six year old daughter, Olive, and a two year old son, Henry. Henry was killed in action in Italy during World War II. Olive married and had a son, who generously gave me this photograph of his grandmother (circa 1906 while she was in college) before he died, and helped me gain a greater understanding of Nellie’s life. Nellie and her husband are buried in Garden Valley Cemetery, Watford City, McKenzie County, North Dakota.

The little church on the prairie

Our Savior's Lutheran Church, McGregor, Divide County, North Dakota
 

Our Savior’s Lutheran Church, McGregor, North Dakota. My paternal grandparents helped found this church in 1909. It was the centerpiece of many happy family events - baptisms, confirmations, and weddings – and those necessary sad ones. My grandparents, an aunt, two uncles, and many extended family members are buried in its adjacent cemetery. 

Prairie churches are a fixture of the rural landscape of North Dakota. Their simple, plain and quiet exteriors reflect the nature of those that worshiped there. 

My grandparents, Norwegian immigrants, and their neighbors and fellow immigrants built this church. In most rural communities, it was the first building that went up, and often remains as the last standing after the community has died out. In this case, the church was part of the ELCA (Evangelical Lutheran Churches of America) denomination, which was connected to the Church of Norway. In Norway, the church was not separated from the state, and all of a person’s milestones were registered with the state through the church. In order to marry in the church, one must have been baptized and confirmed, so those events were important to the community as well as the family.

The prairie church was more than just a religious building, though. It was often the center of communal life, where isolated families came together for social functions.

Our Savior's is now a shell of its former self and no longer functions as a church. But this is how I choose to remember it.