All of my ancestors came from Norway. Seven of my eight great-grandparents emigrated to America between about 1885 and 1910. The other one had parents who came here in the 1850s.
I started doing research into my family tree when I was in high school and continued doing it in college (in the 1970s, before computers, so a lot of my notes were handwritten). I got most of my information by talking to my older relatives, although I was able to make some photocopies of information from various books. Then I discovered the internet.
If you’d like to hear more about my family tree, follow me below the fold.
The Internet
About six years ago, I looked at my family tree, then looked on the internet and discovered a treasure trove. The Norwegian Government has collected their records and put them on the internet here: www.digitalarkivet.no.
They have a searchable database with nationwide censuses, church records (baptisms, confirmations, marriages, burials), emigration records, town records, legal records, and so on. Parts of it are in English, but it really helps to learn some Norwegian words.
In addition, there are a lot of people who have put their family trees on the internet. The Mormons also have a website (but they don’t verify the information, so some of it is untrustworthy). You can also find lots of other records on the internet, such as old census records from 1920 or 1930.
Where My Ancestors Came From
Here’s a map of Norway:
FF: My father’s father’s ancestors came from the southwest (near Stavanger and Bergen). I have 120 names of direct ancestors. The oldest one is my FFFFMMMMFFMF, Tore Ivarsen Tjentland (Tore died in 1603 and had seven children).
FM: My father’s mother’s ancestors came from the Lillehammer/Gjovik area. 391 ancestors, of which the oldest is my FMFMFFMFMFFFFFFMMFF, Brynjulf Haraldsson (died in 1348).
MF: My mother’s father’s ancestors were from the coast, to the west of Trondheim. In that branch, I’ve found 287 ancestors and the oldest is my MFMMMMFMMFMMMFFFF, Karl Örjanson Schanke (circa 1440-1484).
MM: My mother’s mother’s ancestors lived on a lake northeast of Trondheim. I know of 105 names, going back to my MMMMFFFFFFFF, Lasse Olsson Øvre-Kvame (born c.1571 – died before 1648).
And now a few stories about my ancestors.
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The Teacher – Hans Åge Jakobsen Lund, Bakken (MFFFMF, which means he’s my mother’s father’s father’s father’s mother’s father)
Born April 12, 1793. Died 1878. Married to Karen Larsdatter. Six children.
He is described in the records as omgangsskolelærer i prestegjeldet i mange år (circuit teacher in the parish for many years).
You have to understand something about farms in old Norway. It was not unusual for several families (with three or four generations) to live at one farm and it was not unusual for parents to have ten children or more. So the census records might list as many as 100 people at a single farm.
The children didn’t go to school, the school went to them. A teacher would travel to a farm and spend a week teaching the children and then go to a second farm to teach that farm’s children the next week. Then, he’d go to another farm the third week. And so on. I suspect that the teacher was dropped off and picked up at church on Sunday.
I’d wager that those 19th-century Norwegian children looked forward to their week with the circuit teacher. Think about it. For one thing, when the teacher appeared, it meant the children could avoid their daily farm chores because they were learning their ABCs. For another thing, the parents probably cooked meals that were a little fancier than normal, to impress the teacher. The kids at the farm got better food and didn’t have to do their chores. I’ll bet they were happy when the teacher arrived.
The Sailor – Thore Paulsen Grødem (FFFF)
Born 24 Feb 1829. Died 23 Jan 1893 (stroke). Married to Ellen Maria Thorsdatter. Four children.
Seaman #1031, styrman (ship’s mate) matros (sailor). The records say he worked on the ships St. Olaf (1868: Stavanger to Malmøe), St. Svithun (1868: Stavanger to Gothenborg), and Nordstjernen (1892: Stavanger to Sweden). These were big cargo ships. He was a sailor (we’d call it merchant marine, I suppose), not a fisherman. And he wasn’t in the Navy (military).
Thore had a brother named Poul Poulsen Grødem, who served on four or more ships, the final one being the Fr. Petersen (1867: Stavanger to Bergen to Quebec). Then there’s a notation, "Rømt i Quebec," which means "deserted in Quebec." Maybe he jumped ship in Canada. Possibly he got drunk and was murdered. Maybe he met a Canadian woman and got married. Who knows? He sailed on a ship to Quebec and then didn’t return to the ship. He disappeared in Canada. I have an uncle who insists Poul ended up in Australia. Maybe he got a new job on a ship to Australia.
A couple of months after Thore’s death, his son (Thor Thorson Heimarck) left Norway and went to America to become a Lutheran minister in Story City, Iowa.
The Soldier – Seymour Hansson Johnson (FMMF)
Seymour was born 29 Dec 1841 and died 14 Nov 1915 (or 1911?). Married Lena Jacobson. Four children (two died as infants).
Seymour’s parents, Hans and Ingeborg, came to Wisconsin from Norway in 1854. Incidentally, if you’ve ever wondered why so many Norwegians went to Wisconsin and Minnesota, here’s the answer. It was cheaper to go to Canada and then follow the Great Lakes to the Midwest than it was to go to New York City and try to get to the Midwest. Quebec is closer to Norway than NYC.
Seymour was 13 years old in 1854. His parents dragged him to Wisconsin. Six years later, in 1860, he’s 19 and the Civil War begins. He gets drafted into the 32nd Wisconsin Infantry, Company A. I can’t imagine that he spoke very good English, but they gave him a uniform and a gun and he ended up in Sherman’s march to the sea. He didn’t get killed and he returned to Wisconsin to marry his sweetheart, Lena.
Seymour ended up selling farm implements (and he got a U.S. patent for a cleverly designed plow). And his daughter Stella Johnson married Olav H. Hegge, a medical doctor who founded both the hospital and the savings and loan in Austin, Minnesota (home of the Hormel Spam factory). O.H. Hegge was also a friend of the Mayo brothers (who founded a famous clinic in a neighboring town). When I was young, I remember meeting the grandchildren (or maybe the great-grandchildren) of the Mayos.
The Welder – Stella Irene Olafsdatter Haugdahl (MM)
Her real name was Stella, but I never called my mother’s mother anything but Mimi. On my mother’s side, we had Mimi and Grandpa. On my father’s side were Nanny and Pop.
My grandmother, Mimi, was born on a farm near Halbrite, Saskatchewan (she told stories about when the water from the well started to stink too bad, they would drop poison into it, to kill the rats). When she was five the family moved to Crosby, North Dakota (about forty or fifty miles south).
Here’s a sad quotation from her about her father’s death: "When my dad died [in 1929, at the start of the Great Depression], our family was all split up. There was the five boys and Luella still at home and my mother wasn’t able to take care of them, so she let them go to different friends and relatives so our family was almost dissolved, as far as a family was concerned."
Mimi grew up and married my grandfather and they ended up in Portland, Oregon. During World War II, my grandmother was a welder in the shipyards. Perhaps you’ve heard of Rosie the Riveter? My grandmother was Stella the Welder.
Family Stories are Priceless
If you’re young and your grandparents are still alive, get a recording device (video or audio) and talk to them. Ask them about their grandparents. Ask them about what it was like when they were kids. Do this while your grandparents are alive. It’s important.
I’ll finish with a story that was captured on tape. Here’s my grandpa talking (the guy who later married Stella the Welder):
We had a lecturer, someone traveling through, who said "If you drink coffee, you’ll have a coffee color. And that isn’t good." [People believed that coffee darkened your skin.] So, the only one in our class that had a dusky color was a girl I winked my eyes at. She was the most beautiful thing in the world, you know. So we get outside and somebody calls her coffee-colored. Ed, his name was.
"Ed," I says, "Knock that off. Don’t call her coffee-colored." I’m about six foot tall then and big.
I says, "Let’s go down the hill over there." Right across from the second ward.
"I don’t want to go down there."
I says, "You’re coming down there," and I grabbed him and we went down, you see. "Quit calling her coffee-colored. I’m gonna beat your head in." So I got him down in a minute. I started pounding him. Not in the face, because Miss Mallarkey might kick me out of school. But I knew she wouldn’t.
Pretty soon, Warren Magnuson came up. The [future] Senator from Washington. He was two years older than me.
He says, "Don’t hit Ed so much."
I says, "All I want him to do is say he’s not going to call Hilda coffee-colored." Warren didn’t want to really mix into it. He just wanted to stop it, you see.
Wow! Grandpa, you knew Warren Magnuson in high school! That’s really cool! And you got into a fight against some racist asshole? That’s cool, too.
Stories are good. Tell stories to your kids or your grandkids or your neighbors.
