Dear Dede,

I wouldn't like to compare my impressions of the 1920s with those of historians. All I know is that my parents kept their sons fairly ignorant of whatever worries or troubles they might have had. The only time they spoke Norwegian was in heated arguments or discussing things that"didn't concern us"! So when the depression hit (I was in the 5th grade) my father explained to me that "things wouldn't be as good as they had been." I guess I wasn't too depressed because as a 10 year old, I didn't think things were all that great anyway! We suffered no unemployment during these years, but a teacher's salary was minimal then; so my mother's meal budget was always tight. Home Economics really meant something then; and my mother was an expert!

My earliest radio memory was in the West River Road house. The whole family gathered around a tiny crystal set that one of my mother's brothers had, to hear the St.Olaf College choir! Their cousin was in that choir and they all agreed, that through the headphones, they could hear her voice in that tiny, quavering sound. I also remember, at a slightly later date, and on a tube radio, the Jack Dempsey- Luis Firpo heavyweight broadcast, which Paul and I enacted while it was in progress. I forget which one of us was the unlucky Firpo!

By the time I was seven or eight, and we lived in the Macalester St. house, radio seemed a regular part of our family life. Though few households depended on broadcast news; newscasts were seldom over 15 minutes long, music and comedy were the main attractions. I can't remember the family sitting around the radio, staring at the little light, for anything but certain serious speeches and programs like Amos and Andy. We had both the morning and evening newspapers; these were the real news sources then. There were afternoon programs like Renfrew of the Mounted and Little Orphan Annie which were really kid programs.But I really liked only the comedians and Gopher football broadcasts. In our teen years, Paul and I shared a radio in our 'homework room.' Lights Out, a mystery program, was popular with both of us!

My brother Paul and I were so close in age (and size) you would think we'd be as close as twins in interests and activities. But we couldn't be. We could compete on certain levels, but each would excel with his own abilities. But our talents were so different that we avoided any appearance of interest or competition in the other guy's activity. My excuse for not being a scientist or an academic whiz! We fought regularly, it became more serious as we grew,until I had finally outgrown him and violence became a stupid way to settle differences, (because now I prevailed).

You asked me if I ever ran away from home? Yes, as a six year old whose angry mother stood in the doorway with a hairbrush in her hand, expecting me to come in and willingly sacrifice my backside! I believed I had reached the age of reason so my choice was not to enter such a hostile environment. So I walked and walked in the summer darkness, as far as the Ford plant, where fate would have me meet a 19 year old neighbor, a favorite of mine, who was just coming off his shift at the plant. He talked me into accompanying him and of course he was walking home. My father had notified the police and before I reached home I was 'discovered' and threatened with "a trip to the station." Which horrified me; I told the policeman that "I have to go to school tomorrow." I think my mother and I both learned something that night.

In answer to some of these other questions; I would say that we brothers were closer, in terms of association, to my maternal grandparents than any of their other grandchildren. My mother was their only daughter and the caretaker in their last years. I was 60 years younger than my grandfather, exactly the same as Jamie is to me, but there is nothing else similar in the relationship.The generations were too far removed in those days. I owe him much though, it was his generous contribution that allowed me to start Pratt Institute and eased many things for our family.

And as for your comment about lutefisk? I can't remember it ever being prepared by anyone in my family. That was served once a year at church (Lutheran) suppers, where people proved their Norwegian heritage by their apparent enjoyment of this delight. My father, because he was born in Norway was expected to be especially delighted.

This photograph was, I'm sure, taken when we were first back in Minneapolis. My father had a 1922 Model T Ford and my Grandfather Ellertson had this Buick! My grandmother drove an electric car which was an adventure because she would often have to be 'rescued' when the battery gave out; stranding her downtown or some other far place! But driving any car was an adventurous undertaking . Automobile tires were quite unreliable as were country roads; the spare tire was not enough to rely on in those days. A tire patching kit was a necessity, along with a jack and a tire pump! I remember Sunday picnics when only one car problem was considered a good day.

And yet because road building and the growing evolution of the family car was creating a tremendous sense of progress and prosperity in this country, people endured all kinds of what we would consider intolerable hardships with the new conveniences. So much faster and easier than before. I think it was this early 20th century mantra that created an easy acceptance of any new idea or fashion as progress. Each year we couldn't wait to see what wonders the Detroit big three had for us in style and improvements in the latest model. This was their marketing strategy; each year, your present car would become more obsolete.

In response to your question about which poem I enjoyed the most in Silver Pennies? It was certainly

The Plaint of the Camel

CANARY BIRDS feed on sugar and seed,

Parrots have crackers to crunch;

And as for the poodles, they tell me the noodles

Have chickens and cream for their lunch.

But there's never a question

About my digestion —

Anything does for me!

My mother and father started married life in 1916 in Poplar, Montana. My father was in the banking business with his brother Olaf. This was all part of the boom created by the railroads' Western expansion. They were creating towns and land holdings to populate the great prairie by incentives, some real, some not. The harsh facts hit these new landowners when they found there was a limit to the bonanza of the prairie. Droughts and killing winters could occur; 1919 was a very bad year. With foreclosures and nonpayments the banks suffered as well. Lots of money was lost!

My mother was sick that terrible first winter of my life and unable to nurse me. Goat's milk saved me according to the story first told to me by my father. Now my mother, with her college education, was insulted that my uncle Olaf should be the one to recognize the signs of rickets in her infant. He was just a horse trader! But nutritional starvation was all too common in those days before vitamins became a watchword.The effect rickets had on me was a lopsided shape to my skull as seen in my early photos. You know the lowered left ear story etc. I'm sure. But I'm convinced that the early malnutrition created an appetite that none of my brothers had.

This whole scene was a painful memory in our family. My father fortunately, was well qualified to teach. So we landed back in Minneapolis in my grandparents' West River Road house, a block north of the Lake St. Bridge. This, I always say, is where my earliest memory begins. When my father got his job with Humboldt High School we moved across the bridge to St.Paul; a house on Hague Ave. From here, Dean made his appearance in 1923. Paul and I were both born in Minneapolis though we were originally Montanans! Only Phil can say he was born in St. Paul.  

I don't think Peter Pan was my first movie. It came out in 1924 so I was four, almost five, when these drawings were done (although I'd been in love with drawing since I was three). I have vague memories of going downtown Minneapolis with my mother and grandmother when I was three or four and being in one of the movie "palaces"! Remember, there were no 'talkies' until 1926, so dialogue had to be read to a child. Thus, there were few movies in those days that I imagine were attractive to a preschooler, or his parents. Here I am, back to closed captioning again at this stage of my life! Did I believe in the magic of Peter Pan? Of course I did! I doubt if Paul did. He could explain why it was impossible for people to fly!