Fire (#52Ancestors, Week 15)

There are two fires in my family history that I know of. I don't have pictures, but one of them did make the newspaper.

I will never forget walking home from school in the fall of my freshman year at Muncie Northside High School. I was at the bottom of our street and noticed a couple of fire trucks up ahead. How exciting, I thought, there's a fire on our street.

As I got closer I realized that the fire was at our house and I was no longer excited. I was horrified. I ran up the street to our house on the corner to find Mom and Mrs. Sears, one of our neighbors. To be honest I don't remember too many details except that I just lost it on Mrs. Sears' shoulder. I was worried about our cat and dog. Turns out that the dog had run away (we did find him) and the cat hid inside.

Mom had come home earlier and opened the garage door. She heard a "Whoosh" and all of a sudden there was a fire in the garage. We figured later that it must have been spontaneous combustion. I don't know how she called the fire department but they did a great job of putting it out before it spread to the rest of our house. Most of the damage was in the garage and attic above it where, unfortunately, we had put some family keepsakes: my mom's childhood doll house, my rocking horse (both of which were made by my Grandpa Falk). The Christmas ornaments were there, too, but luckily not the handmade ones.

We couldn't stay in our house for a few days while the damage was cleaned up and repaired. One of Chris' friend's parents (the Stanleys) loaned us their RV for Mom and Dad to stay in, parked in our driveway. We kids stayed with friends. Thankfully, repairs and cleaning were taken care of and it didn't seem long before life was back to normal.

Princeton Bureau County Tribune,
December 31, 1915

The second fire story in our family is a little more serious.

Theodore Johnson is my great-grandfather. His daughter Edna is my paternal grandmother. Edna was the fourth daughter of Theodore and Anna Johnson. She would have been 15 in 1915, about the same age as I was when we had our fire.

The fire at the Johnson's house happened on Christmas morning. According to what I can make out from the article, (and I remember Grandma telling this story once or twice) the family was ready to go to church early on Christmas morning but someone forgot their hat so Grandma's mom Anna went back to look for it in the closet. In 1915 the house that they lived in didn't have electric or gas power, and it would have been dark, so Anna had to use a kerosene lamp. Whether she left the lamp burning in the closet or something caught fire that she didn't notice is not known. But at 6:45 a.m. while the family was worshiping at church on Christmas morning, a neighbor saw that their house was on fire and called the fire department.

Princeton had a fire department at the time but no dispatching service like we have now. The telephone operator misunderstood where the fire was and 20 minutes were wasted because of the mix up.

The paper reported on the fire:

“When the wagon finally arrived the interior of the house was a mass of flames and it was impossible for the firemen to enter and save the furniture. The house property was covered by insurance amounting to $1,000. No insurance was carried on the furniture….

“The only piece of furniture removed from the house was a piano. This was dropped by the firemen as they were taking it out of the house and was damaged so that it is practically of no use.

“The residence will be repaired at once. During the repairing of the home the Johnson family are living with relatives and friends in the vicinity of their home.”

I can't imagine the tragedy of losing your house on Christmas Day, along with all the presents and food for the celebration. And the loss of the piano! My grandma and her sisters were all very musical, I'm sure they mourned the piano.

Hopefully Anna was able to let go of any burden she might have felt about starting the fire. The blessing was that no lives were lost in the fire. I'm sure that, as the ashes smoldered, the family eventually was able to count their blessings. In a tragedy, we find hope in counting our blessings.

Close to Home (#52Ancestors, Week 4)

Princeton, Illinois, is my dad’s hometown and the home of many of his aunts, uncles and cousins. Princeton is the county seat of Bureau County and in the 1960s and 1970s it had a population of about 7000. Princeton always seemed like the quintessential American home town, with its Main Street business district and friendly citizens.

When I was younger we would travel from Indiana to Princeton to visit my grandparents, Harry and Edna Peterson. But once we were in Princeton, there were many more people to visit. “Visiting” always seemed to be the main activity when we went to Princeton. Here are some of my recollections of the two Petersons (in addition to my grandpa) who stayed “close to home” and whom we visited once or twice a year.

Hildur Peterson

Hildur, my grandpa’s oldest sister, lived in Princeton almost her entire life. She was born in 1902 and died in 1987. She never married. She lived with her parents Herman and Cecilia until they died. According to the 1930 and 1940 census she worked as a bookkeeper or office worker for a family doctor, Dr. Nix, and my dad tells me that when the doctor retired she went to work in Alma Magnuson’s Dress Shoppe. Sometime in the 1950s or ‘60s Hildur moved with her parents from the big family house on Thompson Street to a smaller bungalow on West Peru. Her parents’ health declined and she became their primary caretaker. Her mother was in a wheelchair having had one leg amputated, and her father was eventually bedridden as a double amputee. After both Herman and Cecelia died, Hildur lived in a high rise apartment building in Princeton. This seemed very cosmopolitan to my younger self. I remember visiting her in her apartment and the rooms all seemed quite small—to me and my three energetic siblings. I’m sure there was plenty of room for her when we all left!

Hildur Peterson in her apartment

Here is what I remember about Hildur: She seemed very “proper,” but kind. She always wore dresses and hose, and sat with her legs properly crossed. She was a mean Scrabble player but would play with us anyway. She always remembered our birthdays with a card and small cash gift. She visited family back in Sweden at least once and kept in touch with them as well. She had a good sense of humor but was a staunch teetotaler and never went with the rest of us to Rip’s in Ladd, Illinois (Rip’s served the best chicken anywhere but were located in a bar).

Nina, the second Peterson child, was born in 1903 and died in 1989. (I wish I had a picture of Nina as a young woman) She never lived outside of Bureau County. Nina married Conrad Johnson in 1927.

Princeton Bureau County Tribune, 25 March, 1927, p. 8

I imagine that they were a popular couple because the newspaper reported that 40 of their friends gave them a charivari after they were married. Conrad was a farmer and raised Angus beef cows, a lucrative business. Conrad and Nina had four sons: Roland, Robert (Bob), Lyle and Doug. Roland and Bob went into farming also and lived around Princeton, too. I can’t remember what Roland farmed but Bob raised pigs. Lyle died tragically of spinal meningitis when he was in college. Doug suffered brain damage when he was born and lived with his parents all his life.

During the early years of their marriage Conrad and Nina lived on farms northeast of Princeton, but sometime in the 1940s or '50s they moved to a farm south of Princeton. When Conrad retired from farming they built a ranch house next door to his farm house, and it was also right across the road from Grandma and Grandpa’s house. When we visited Conrad and Nina’s, we always had cookies or some sort of homemade dessert on glass snack plates with glass cups for the punch. My brother and I sat as quietly as we could, finished our cookies and answered the adults’ questions, and then we were allowed to go down into the basement—oh, joy!—where we played with the pool table and the shuffleboard court which was painted on the floor.

Lillian Peterson Stickel, Nina Peterson Johnson, Sylvia Nelson Peterson, Hildur Peterson

By staying in Princeton, Hildur, Nina and Harry kept the home fires burning for other family members to come back. I know the family often celebrated a traditional Swedish Christmas Eve dinner together. The bonds between the Peterson siblings always seemed strong and sincere, and I'm sure that having a place to “come home to” has a lot to do with that. Thanks you, Hildur, Nina and Harry, for staying close to home.

The Peterson home on Thompson Avenue
where Herman and Cecilia raised their children

The Peterson home on West Peru.
Hildur lived here with her parents Herman and Cecilia.
The porch was not enclosed when they lived here.

When Harry Met Edna

Edna Irene Johnson and Harry Nels Peterson

April 14, 1932

How did Harry and Edna meet? They probably knew each other from First Lutheran Church in Princeton, Illinois, where their families worshipped. Edna, five years older than Harry, graduated from high school in 1918 and then took a stenographic course at Augustana College in Rock Island, Illinois. She returned to Princeton and by 1930 was working as a bookkeeper at the Citizens First National Bank. By this time Harry, who had left high school to begin working and help support his parents and (nine) siblings, was the manager at the Larkin grocery store. As adults, Harry and Edna’s five-year age difference was of little consequence. They enjoyed each other’s company, their relationship grew and in time they were engaged.

Edna Johnson and Harry Peterson were married on Wednesday, April 14, 1932 in Princeton, Illinois at 4 o’clock in the afternoon. Although the ceremony was performed by Reverend Elmer T. Peters of First Lutheran Church, the wedding took place at the home where Edna and her mother, Anna, lived on West Putnam Street. About 60 friends and family members attended the event.

The house was filled with flowers and the ceremony was filled with music. Mrs. Mabel Morton sang “Because” and “At Dawning,” accompanied by Miss Rosalie Tragordh. Nineteen-year-old Pauline Lindgren, Edna’s cousin on her mother’s side, sang “When Song is Sweet” accompanied by Edna’s oldest sister Myrtle Peterson.

Harry waited for his bride with his best man, Robert Eckdahl, standing at his side. Myrtle struck up Mendelssohn’s Wedding March and Edna entered the room. Since her father had died in   perhaps she walked in by herself, or with her mother. Edna was resplendent in her dress of white net over white satin and moire ruffles on the skirt. Her net veil was fastened with orange blossoms and she carried a magnificent arm bouquet of calla lilies.

Edna’s maid of honor was her friend Celia Johnson. “Ceil” wore a dress of blue lace and carried roses and sweet peas. Edna’s two nieces also participated in the ceremony: Phyllis Swanson, 5, Evelyn’s daughter, wore a dress of blue organdy and was the flower girl, and Anna May Peterson, 6, Myrtle’s daughter, wearing pink organdy, was the train bearer.

After the ceremony the guests ate a two-course supper and a large white wedding cake trimmed in pink and blue, topped by a miniature bride and groom.

Edna and Harry went on their honeymoon to Florida where they visited Tampa Bay and Daytona Beach. When they returned to Princeton they made their home on West Putnam, just down the street from Edna’s mom. In four years they welcomed their son Stanley and their family was complete.

Edna’s father Theodore had died. Edna was the third of four sisters, the last to be married