Sunday, October 5, 2014
Finding grandma in Lindsborg, Kansas
It wasn’t
typical of farm girls of her generation – she was the daughter of Swedish
immigrants – to go beyond an 8th grade country school education. College was educational advancement relatively uncommon for women then.
At our daughter’s suggestion
our quest led to the campus library. If I checked online there’s a name for
this building. We didn’t catch the name when we were there.
Its name went over us in the excitement of closing in on the hunt to find Grandma on her academic
turf. We went in the direction pointed out to us as the place to check
with and that was good enough.
We were working off a date mentioned in the family
tree. This would be the first reality check to see if the date was correct.
Assisted by a friendly staff
person who brought out old college publications that corresponded with the
time frame of our search we got down to work.
We took separate tables and
spread our stacks around us. We wanted to find Grandma’s name in the worst way.
We’d have to extend the
search on either side of the year if we didn’t find her name as a student right off. We were
aware it’d be like looking for a needle in a haystack if the date in the family
tree proved to be wrong.
We turned the pages one
volume after another. We looked for her name under the various headings students
were listed.
That first fact
was established. We knew that part already. Finding her in the student rosters was
instead very much like an act of paying honor.
We came to Bethany College
to connect with the person my grandma was at that time of her life. We
came to let the surroundings which had been her environs sink into us.
In the end we did find my
grandma. It wasn't without further search. She is in the student rolls about three
years after the date given for Bethany College in the family tree.
That search is for later. Lindsborg was
the here and now. We wanted to use the remaining time to see something of this place
which drew us from the start.
The
slogan is on its helpful visitors brochure with listings for lodging, food and places to visit. (I did
chuckle when the first thing we saw coming into this most Swedish themed of
communities was Pizza Hut!)
It didn’t take five minutes on main street to see there was more to do here than the time allotted
for our stay.
Like the two of us,
Lindsborg likes its coffee.Coffee first we said, opting for The White Peacock, seeing it first.
The ambience
should have been enough to hold me. A back courtyard had first to be
examined, however. I pushed through the door entranced by the enclosed outdoor haven.
But the twenty degrees were missing and I trotted inside to find Al where
he’d scored a place, suspecting my exploratory tour would be just that.
Joyously decorated Dala horses
are a must-see. They’re a “will-see” if you’re anywhere downtown. It’s
impossible not to notice them.
See one and you’re caught
hook, line and sinker. The cast fiberglass creations in front of businesses are
pure magic. Their unique and whimsical designs captivated us. They had us on an
impromptu Dala horse count.
We learned the Dala horse
originated as folk art in the central Swedish province of Dalarna. In Lindsborg
the Dala Horse has been turned into public art.
The Dala horse, which elicits a smile
with each sighting, is Lindsborg’s charming symbol of its ties to Sweden.
In a turn off main
street there was a moment when I felt Old Sweden had directly opened to me.
Its blue and white overall decoration (or this is the color
duet that stays with me) is a peaceful natural palette to rest and restore its fortunate
guests.
I peeked in and, like
Goldilocks, advanced farther into the front room, which was the lobby. My
gaze was everywhere. Each discovery pleased me more.
Simple pine furniture and clean
inspired touches are throughout, including the upstairs bedrooms (seeing my
interest the friendly wave sent me upstairs to see the unoccupied rooms).
We missed its tips while in Lindsborg but we see
the oversight as a promise we’re meant to return. With the brochure now read the places we want
to see (or see again) have been marked.
Coronado Heights is the highest of the Smoky
Hills – seven hills in a row we understand – north of town. The Smoky Hills are
a distinct range. We commented on them as we approached Lindsborg.
Spanish
conquistador Coronado is thought to have gotten to central Kansas in 1541 in
his search for gold. The story, as passed down, is that he climbed Coronado
Heights to look around.
It makes me
wonder if Grandma and college friends, or with her sister (the sister who was an instructor in shorthand and typewriting and is pictured in the publications we looked through) traveled out the few miles to picnic on its
heights.
Lindsborg may have been a postal address and not
much else for my grandma. I can guess she’d have been called an intent student.
Lindsborg’s
influence on Grandma’s begs asking. When I put the family tree together as a teen the fact she went to Lindsborg was sufficient for me.
Unable to entirely
imagine my grandma young, I couldn’t flesh out or give form to the things that
would have shaped her, as I was being shaped, at her very similar age.
You can ask the pertinent questions and
expect a reply. Details are trickier to ask for. This, in part, may have kept
some of her history from being more completely gathered.
Folks have more
diverse and interesting backgrounds than we guess. This includes our own
forebears, impacted by their times, opportunities and interests.
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