Lind Places & Memories

Svante & Anna Kajsa Lind Family Historical Account

Written by: Esther (Lind) Morin Roots--Lest We Forget pp. 1-5 (Thure Branch)

Svante (Larsson) Lind married Anna Kajsa Larsdotter on March 24, 1856 on the Dagsnas Estate in Sweden.

Grandpa Svante was born on Halloween, October 31, 1833. We have no record of his family. He and a twin brother were orphaned at age two. While being cared for in an orphanage, his husky twin brother died. So Svante was truly alone, and out on his own at an early age. He had scarcely any education, read slowly, and could sign his name or copy a letter with difficulty. But Svante had inherited a sense of humor, was quick and clever with apt answers and many appropriate stories.

In his early years he was errand boy, bootblack, and hired hand; later on he became coachman at a large country estate, Dagsnas, Harlunda. Always a lover of horses, he was happy in this job and took pains to keep them in perfect trim. Sitting in the high seat outside the carriage, he kept them at a good pace so folks would admire his team. For his coachman’s garb he had received a pair of skin trousers (underwear was out of the budget of a servant) and his boots were always neat and shiny, as learned in his bootblack days.

Anna Kajsa Larsdotter was born in the city of Skara, Sweden on April 5, 1831. Schooling was denied her, due to circumstances of poverty. However, she had a great gift of song, often singing at elite parties; but she was requested to sing "off stage" or to stand behind a curtain because she was a peasant.

Time came when she too was a hired servant at the Dagsnas Estate, and Svante soon fell in love with the red-headed Anna Kajsa. On March 24, 1856, their marriage took place here, her mistress presenting her with the wedding gown, even helping her dress for the wedding.

Grandpa Svante was conscripted into the army that same year. The couple then located in a small house or "torp", moving again and again in the nearby area until 1869. Times were hard. Using their own milk cow as a beast of burden, they produced hardly enough for bare necessities on their rented plot.

During the 1800’s great economic changes occurred in Sweden. More land was brought into use for farming, but food was often in short supply. There were not enough jobs for all of Sweden’s downtrodden people, and nearly 450,000 persons left the country between 1867 and 1886, most of whom went to America and settled in the Midwest. Today Sweden is one of the most prosperous countries in the world.

The dream of America lay heavily on Svante’s heart also. For the good of his children he felt that he was "summoned" to go. If it did not lead to an easier life for the parents, it would certainly be better for their five children.

After much contemplation and prayer, (knowing it would be in vain to ask for release from the army) he fled one night, secretly to everyone but his wife. Somehow he had scraped together enough money for his ticket, vowing to God that he would repay every borrowed cent. Losing his way through the woods in the night, he pleaded with God for guidance and for blessing in this venture. On reaching Gothenborg, he took a boat for England. Traveling across England by train, he saw his knapsack with his meager belongings, a supply of rye flour and dried meat for the ocean voyage, fall off the top of the train. Literally "traveling light", he arrived in America with only the clothes on his back and as poor as the proverbial church mouse.

To start a new life in a new world, Svante arrived in Hampton, Illinois, in 1869. Working long, hard hours in the local coal mines, he earned enough money to clear his debts and buy tickets for the family'’ fare to America. Being a poor business man, Svante had trusted a Swedish Consul in Chicago to purchase the tickets and arrange for their passage. Slowly he copied a letter to Anna Kajsa in Sweden, advising her to sell the cow and their few household possessions, even her precious loom, which had helped her earn some income with weaving linens of intricate patterns. Anxiously they awaited the tickets, but none came. Grandma, with her five children was forced to move and seek work by the day. In time Svante realized that he had been swindled, making it necessary to start all over again earning the family’s passage.

On their own during the next years in Sweden, the young children as well as Grandma experienced hunger and extreme hardship, not poverty alone, but often ill-treatment because of Svante having gone AWOL. Even the young children had to share in eking out an existence. Sometimes they herded pigs, sheep, etc., or, as door-to-door salesmen, sold homemade "whisks" made of stripped birch twigs for stirring porridge, and, at times, were just plain beggars.

Svante had not found America altogether a land of promise either. Alone, working long hours in the coal mine to clear debts, earning his family’s passage twice, suffering hardship as a railroad builder out of Rock Island, already he had waited three years for his dear ones to join him in America.

Finally, on the 17th of June, 1872, Svante welcomed the long-awaited family to his log cabin in Hampton Hills, east of Moline, Illinois, his wife and five children: Lovisa, John, Thure, Mathilda, and Emil, ages 12 to 5. It was God who had sustained and brought them together, and one of their first concerns was a church home. Before long, a horse was purchased, and they drove the seven miles to First Lutheran Church in Moline and soon were members there.

The year 1872 was before Child Labor Laws, and shortly the older children were employed. Lovisa (Aunt Louise) worked as a domestic for Mrs. Archelaus, an aristocratic English lady. Before long Mathilda was also out on her own. Johnny and Thure (my dad) joined their father in the coal mines.

Dad was 10 years old on his arrival from Sweden, and employment continued here until he was perhaps 20. His first work was as a water-bailer, which involved carrying out by the bucketsful the unwanted underground water that seeped into the mine. Not being big enough or strong enough to carry the bucket with one arm, he carried it between his legs in order to use both arms. In time he became a full-fledged miner, with a salary of $1.00 a day; at 18 he was an expert with drills and powder, a top miner in the field.

The first American addition to the Lind family was Ida, born April 2, 1873. Two years later a brother, Carl Otto, arrived, but his stay with them wasn’t so long. Augusta, #7 of the living children, arrived in August of 1877. Having outgrown the log cabin, a better home was purchased, where they lived until 1879 when the pioneer Linds were ready for another venture.

As an inducement to settlement in the Midwest, the U.S. Government was offering Homestead Land, 160 acres to each prospective settler, to be lived on and developed as a farm. Grandpa Svante and Grandma turned their sights west and on the 19th of march, 1879, together with their three youngest, Emil, Ida, and Augusta, moved to Phelps County, Nebraska. Along went a few farm implements: a plow, harrow, lumber wagon, hayrack, spring wagon, two horses and two cows. John and Thure held on to their jobs in the mines and remained in Illinois a year or so longer. Lovisa and Mathilda continued as domestics.

Svante never ceased to be thankful to God for this new land, and often got down on his knees on the sod, in gratitude to Him for this stone-free soil and his many blessings. Before long a two-room sod house was in readiness on Swan Hill; and the first of a vast network of the Svante and Anna Kajsa Lind family roots struck deep into the fertile soil of central Nebraska.

All of the Svante Linds remained an especially close-knit family. As evidence of this, all but one of the children, Ida, who married a preacher, took land and settled in the immediate area; Lovisa’s, Johnny’s and Thure’s farms nearly adjoined the Svante Lind homestead. Emil and Augusta established their homes a few miles to the south, and Mathilda was just across the border into Kearney County.

The Lind Family Arrives in America

I am grateful that I was able to know great-grandmother Anna Kajsa a little bit and to hear secondhand stories about Svante. I think of Anna Kajsa in her little cottage across the road from our home. I remember her as being a stern mannered person but she never forgot to give my brother Vincent and me some “Polke Grisor” when we came to visit. Her cottage had two rooms, a bedroom and a kitchen-living room. She was bedfast for a time before she died in 1918 at the age of 86.

I remember the day of her funeral in March of 1918. The funeral procession was a mixture of horse-drawn vehicles and cars. The most impressive part was the length of the group and the great cloud of dust it raised. I was a four year old at the time, so simple things were impressive.

Svante died in 1906 before I was born, so I have only bits of information about him that my mother and Uncle Vic told me. I have the impression from their stories that he was a friendly man and had a kind disposition. Physically he was not a large man but one who was willing to try doing different things.

They told of one time when he was 60 to 65 years old and had gone out to bring in the cows. He thought it was too far to walk so he jumped on the back of one cow for a ride. He got more than he expected as the cow ran madly for home. He made it safely but got a strong scolding from his family who had seen the ride. I guess he still thought it was better that walking.

—Eugene Abrahamson - THE WAY IT WAS - Memories & Stories of My Family - In the Early Nebraska Years

South Dakota Trip

Grandpa Thure bought land in western South Dakota in 1920 and he, Ellen and Vic, as well as Joe, Lep and Dave and their wives moved there. We visited the South Dakota ranch in 1925. The whole family was loaded up in our Model T and we took off for a 425 mile trip that took two and a half days on what is now Highway 10.

Travel through the sand hills was very slow; the road was only two tracks with no road signs. When we arrived at a fork, either a ranch would be visible at the end of one road or there would be a cow skull sitting in the middle of the road, indicating that this was the road to be taken. The first day was very slow; we only made 50 miles. We had to push the Model T up the sandy slopes. A massive thunderstorm came up toward dark. We turned into the first ranch place that we came to and parked in the protection of their barn. The owner turned out to be a school classmate of Mom’s from Axtell and we were invited in for dinner and given places to sleep.

We arrived in Pierre with no place to sleep. We met a man who suggested that we sleep at a movie theater. It wasn’t too comfortable on the chairs but we managed.

—Eugene Abrahamson - THE WAY IT WAS - Memories & Stories of My Family - In the Early Nebraska Years

Ella Abrahamson's Memories

As kids we couldn’t speak English. Most of our neighbors were Swedish so any social event we went to was Swedish and only Swedish was spoken at the Fridhem Lutheran church which we attended. But at school we had to learn English. My grandparents always did speak Swedish.

Farming was still a lot by hand. And my Dad expected us kids to have all the chores done when he got in from the fields. I remember feeding the hogs and the chickens- there were always lots of chickens. We lived where there were lots of trees so we had wood to burn, but I still picked up my share of cow chips.

Most everything was made by hand. You couldn’t buy a dress ready-made. We cut our own patterns from newspapers. Clothes were patched and made over. We bought our shoes but they weren’t very comfortable so we were happy to go barefoot as soon as we could every spring.

I wore my hair in a long braid, but when everyone else around was getting theirs cut, my sister and I had ours cut too. My, but our family thought that was awful!

I remember butchering time. How we fried and canned and put it up! I also remember soap making. We didn’t have a thermometer to test it so we used our finger to tell if it had cooked long enough.

— from Suzanne Arnold. Ella Lind (Abrahamson) was the daughter of Thure

Chickens and Rats

After my Grandmother Jennie died in 1948, my parents and I moved in with my Grandpa Emil.  The two-story white frame house was just one block south of Fridhem Church in Funk.  It is from those three years, until Emil died in 1951, that I have many fond memories of Grandpa.

Behind the house, to the east, were a double garage, a barn, a coal shed, a chicken house, and, of course, an outhouse.  Grandpa seemed to me to be quite vital then, and always seemed to have work to do.  When we first moved in, there was a horse in the barn, and a large flock of chickens populated the chicken house.  The chickens, of course, required attention several times a day, and I almost always would accompany Grandpa out to feed them, pick eggs, and do the necessary cleaning.  I tried not to get in his way, because work was important, and he could be an impatient Swede at times.

The chicken house also had another group of inhabitants—a good supply of rats that Grandpa never seemed able to exterminate.  He had fashioned a homemade spear, of sorts, a hoe handle with a bayonet-type blade on the end of it, and this is how he would use it:  he knew every crawl way and rat hole in the walls of the chicken house, and I watched with fascination as he patiently waited with spear poised at the hole.  When a rat appeared, with lightning speed he would plunge the blade through the writhing and squealing rodent, pull the bleeding animal out of the hole, and quickly dispatch it.  He was a fearless protector of his flock of chickens, and this direct method seemed to keep the rat population in check. 

One winter day, late in the afternoon, however, he let his guard down, and I watched as he reached down to remove the animal from the blade.  It was still alive, of course, and it quickly turned on him and inflicted a severe bite to his hand.  Blood was everywhere, but he put the animal out of its misery, and then we began to deal with his wound.  We found a rag, he wrapped it over his hand, and we headed for the house.  My mother was inside, and after expressing her dismay over the red bandage and her father’s foolishness, the two of them cleaned his hand and put on a fresh dressing.

Grandpa refused to see a doctor after this incident, and his hand apparently healed without an infection or anything more serious.  

— Orval Oleson

Torsten's Travels

The following two memoirs were written by Natalie Lund—two brief, but interesting stories about her father, Torsten Lund (Ida branch, grandson of Svante and Anna Kajsa).  Torsten was a member of the faculty of the University of California, and in 1955 was returning home from Florida.

Torsten knew the poet/biographer Carl Sandburg, and corresponded with him. (There is a specific mention of Torsten as well as his brother Carl J., and the rest of the Lund family in Sandburg's book, Always The Young Strangers.) He also visited Carl and Mrs. Sandburg one time, when driving back home with his wife Eleanor, after teaching summer school in Coral Gables, Florida. When they arrived they found Carl sitting in a rocker on the porch of his house in North Carolina, eating fried potatoes out of an iron skillet. While Torsten and the famous writer conversed, Eleanor and daughter Ingrid were introduced to the large number of goats that Mrs. Sandburg kept there. One goat tried to make a meal out of Ingrid's dress! (Ingrid was not pleased, she later related.)

Long before that, Torsten was traveling from Knoxville, Tennessee to New Orleans, by train, for a teacher's conference. While the train was stopped at a station, he was standing and smoking a cigarette when his attention was drawn to a crowd of blacks who had surrounded someone outside another car. (This was in the days when the Deep South was a hugely segregated society. On a train, no blacks were allowed in a white car except for the porter. And no whites ever went to a black car.) He asked, and was told that the man attracting all the attention was W.C. Handy, the jazz musician (considered to be the Father of the Blues). My father already knew about this famous man, and asked his porter if he could possibly go to that car and meet him.

I don't know how it was accomplished, but the introduction was made, and so Torsten spent a couple of hours with Mr. Handy, and was given an original autographed piece of sheet music (The Memphis Blues, I believe), which has been passed on to his granddaughter, Martha Burns Wojno.

— Natalie Lund, by permission

The Definition of Family

Behold, how good and pleasant when brothers dwell together in unity! - Psalm 133:1

I learned from my father that whenever the Bible speaks of brothers, it means sisters as well. Therefore we are talking about family. Do you know the origin of the word "family?" It comes from the Latin word familla, and it signifies all those people who satisfy their hunger from the same pot. It is related to the word fames, which means hunger as well as famine, an acute shortage of food. The french word faim means hunger.

We are members of the Lind family as well as all our descendants. We have experienced the blessings of God, satisfying our hunger from His Word. We also know the joy of eating and celebrating together.

If we read the next verses of Psalm 133, we see that unity in a family of brothers and sisters is like the precious oil, which was poured on the head of Aaron the high priest to show that God had chosen him. He became the anointed one, which translated in Greek means "Christos". To be anointed means to be chosen. God has chosen us to go out and be witnesses in a dark world. Darkness has never yet put out a light. The greater the darkness, the more the light shines.

He wants to anoint us today, not so that we will feel good, but so we can go and grow healthy children both physically and spiritually.

Psalm 133 ends with this verse: For there the Lord has commanded the blessing, life for evermore.

May God continue to give unity, and pour out his blessings upon the Lind family.

- Ingrid Hult Trobisch Youngdale