The Whole Town's Talking Page 7

  While Lordor loved having a daughter, his neighbor, Henry Knott, was not happy that he only had girls. He often told Lordor that he wished he had a boy to take over the farm someday.

  Lordor agreed that it would be nice to have his son take over the business, but Teddy did not want to be a dairy farmer. He was more like his mother and loved to bake. His dream was to own his own bakery one day. And Lordor didn’t mind at all. Some of the best bakers in Sweden were men. He even bought Teddy a white baker’s hat. He just wanted his children to be happy. And as he once told Katrina, “You either love cows or you don’t.”

  As the years went by, the dairy farm continued to do well. So well, in fact, that they sent off for even more cows and built four new barns. They didn’t know what had caused it. It could have been something in the soil in this part of Missouri or in the clover they ate. Or it could have been the special cows that Lordor was breeding. But everyone around agreed. The milk and cheese that Lordor’s cows produced was the sweetest. So, they decided to name the farm Sweet Clover Dairy.

  While Teddy did not show any interest in the dairy business, their neighbor boy, fifteen-year-old Ander Swensen, did. And he absolutely idolized Lordor. According to some, Lordor was the best dairyman in the state, and Ander wanted to grow up and be a dairyman just like him.

  Since Lordor was his best friend, Lars Swensen asked him if he would take Ander under his wing and teach him the dairy business from the ground up. Lordor was more than happy to do it. He liked Ander. He was a sincere boy, a fast learner, and a good worker. And so Ander moved in with the Nordstroms and did not mind a bit. He loved working with Lordor every day. And there was another reason. A pretty girl named Ingrid.

  The next letter Katrina received from her friend Anna Lee contained surprising news—something that Katrina would never have expected to hear.

  Dear Katrina,

  I am writing with news. I met a man named Karl Johanssen. He is a big, dumb Swede and owns a wheat farm in Wisconsin. Of all the swell fellows I’ve known in Chicago, why did I have to go and fall for him? You can laugh if you want. I wouldn’t blame you for all my big talk about farmers.

  Anyhow, he asked me to marry him, and I said yes. Your big-city girlfriend is headed to Wisconsin at the end of the month.

  Love,

  Anna Lee

  A tall, good-looking man of about twenty-five working in a lumber camp somewhere outside of Portland had just been handed a letter from his mother. It had taken the letter almost a month to reach him so far back up in the woods.

  Dear Gustav,

  Your father and I thank you so much for your last money order. You are very kind to your old mom and dad. We still miss you here, Son. I wish you could see how the town has changed. Downtown is almost one block long, and there is talk of a Masonic Lodge and a new Methodist church being built soon.

  We are having a really nice summer. We just got another calf, and we are happy about that. That old Lindquist farm you asked about is still for sale. I am glad you are liking your job and doing so well. Everybody here still asks about you. All your cousins, even your old teacher, Miss Beemer, the one you liked so much, still asks about you whenever I see her. Birdie Swensen told me the other day that Miss Beemer is engaged to be married, and I was glad to hear it. She was always so sweet. There is also talk in town about building a new school, but I will miss the old one. Do come home soon. We are not getting any younger.

  Love,

  Mother

  P.S. We got the roof fixed.

  Later that night, one of the men in camp asked the guy in the next bunk, “What’s the matter with Tildholme? He keeps reading that same letter over and over.”

  Birdie Swensen was not a gossip. She’d just overheard the wrong information about Miss Beemer. It had only been a rumor started by a jeweler in town who had seen bachelor Glen Early looking at engagement rings. Later, Molly Ballantine had set Birdie straight on the matter. “No, Birdie,” she said. “Lucille’s not engaged. I know for a fact she turned Mr. Early down flat, not once, but twice.”

  Birdie was sorry to hear it. “Oh, that’s too bad. I guess it’s just wishful thinking on my part.” Mr. Early went on to marry his sixth cousin, Iris Loveless, and they moved to Summit Falls, Missouri, and both became Unity ministers.

  Mrs. Tildholme never thought to write and tell Gustav any different. She didn’t know it mattered.

  It was said by all who knew him that Lordor Nordstrom had a heart of gold. He had almost lost the farm twice, because he had often paid other people’s debts when they had been in trouble. But according to the doctor’s latest report, that same heart was slowly failing. Katrina was devastated to think she might be losing him, and she almost never left his side. They tried to keep it from the children, but as the weeks went by, Lordor became weaker and could no longer go to work. Soon, he was mostly bedridden.

  Lordor knew his time was short, and he wanted to leave his family well provided for. The dairy had grown far too large for either Katrina or Teddy to run, and Ingrid had her heart set on going to college. He talked it over with the family, and they made the decision to sell the farm.

  Soon after word got out in the dairy industry that Sweet Clover Dairy was for sale, people came from far and wide with more than generous offers.

  Closer to home, young Ander Swensen had borrowed all the money he possibly could from his father and the bank, and made an offer. It was far less than the others and he knew it, but it was the best he could do.

  Day after day, Lordor listened to men’s ideas about how they would run the dairy. They explained in great detail how they would add new ways to produce more milk from each cow.

  One morning, Lordor called out from his bedroom to Teddy, who had been in the kitchen, and he came to the door. “Son, I want you to run over to the dairy and get Ander for me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Teddy rode over to the dairy and found Ander and told him that Lordor wanted to see him right away. Ander dropped what he was doing and asked Teddy if he knew what his father wanted to see him about.

  “I don’t know.”

  Ander arrived at the house five minutes later, still in his rubber boots and not very clean. He removed his hat and knocked on Lordor’s bedroom door.

  “Come in, and shut the door behind you.”

  “Yes, sir.” Ander then went over and sat in the chair beside the bed. He could see how pale Lordor had become.

  Lordor pulled himself up and said, “Ander, I see how people run their farms now, and I don’t like it. It’s not so good.”

  Ander nodded. “No, sir.”

  “I want my cows to be treated well.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Lordor then looked at the boy and said, “This is why I take your offer and sell the farm to you.”

  A startled Ander couldn’t believe it. “What? But Mr. Nordstrom—”

  Lordor put up his hand. “No…no arguments. You are the only one I trust to run it like it should be run. And you earned it.”

  “But, Mr. Nordstrom. You taught me everything I know—”

  “That’s fine, but, Ander, I want you to give me your word on something. Just between the two of us…You understand?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “You promise me that the farm and the cows will always stay in our families. You don’t never sell it to nobody else. You agree?”

  “I do.”

  “You will put this in your will someday…for even after you are gone?”

  A solemn Ander answered, “I swear it on my life, sir.”

  Lordor smiled and leaned back on the bed. “Good. Now go tell the others.”

  —

  THE FAMILY WAS GLAD Lordor had chosen Ander to take over the farm. Birdie and Lars Swensen were their best friends, and Ander was like a brother to Teddy and Ingrid, and another son to Katrina.

  Later, when the town heard about it, they were relieved as well. They couldn’t bear to think of strangers taking over Lordor’s dairy
. He had worked too hard to make it what it was. Over the years, the Sweet Clover Dairy had become a part of all of them.

  —

  TWO WEEKS LATER, as only fitting, Lordor Nordstrom became the first soul laid to rest at Still Meadows. And, as planned so many years ago, he was placed right in the middle, under the big oak tree.

  LORDOR NORDSTROM

  1852–1911

  A Good and Honest Man

  Blessings on His Way

  His family missed Lordor terribly, and his passing left a huge void in the community. Lordor had always been their mayor, and the town felt lost without him. Most communities would hold an election to determine who the next mayor would be. But the people in Elmwood Springs all got together and asked “Why bother with an election?” They just informed Lordor’s son, Teddy, who had recently turned twenty, that he was now the new mayor. They had all gotten used to saying Mayor Nordstrom, and they did not want a change. Losing him had been hard enough. They had all been at Lordor’s funeral, but they still couldn’t believe that he was actually gone. And in a way, they were right.

  —

  SHORTLY AFTER THE FUNERAL, the strangest thing happened. Lordor Nordstrom woke up. And he knew exactly who he was. He could still think and remember. He could see the blue sky and the clouds above him and hear birds singing. Not only that, he felt as light as a feather, and he could breathe again without any effort or pain. And everything smelled so fresh. The earth, the grass, the flowers. He felt so calm and peaceful.

  But where was he? Was he in heaven? Was he dead or alive? Then Lordor looked up again and saw the old oak tree standing above him and suddenly he knew exactly where he was. He was right up the hill in his own plot at Still Meadows. He was dead all right. But he was still here.

  What a pleasant surprise. If someone had told him this was going to happen, he wouldn’t have believed them, and yet, here he was. He had no idea how or why it had happened. All he knew was that he’d never felt better in his life. Lordor took in another deep breath, then drifted off into another long, relaxing nap.

  —

  AFTER LORDOR PASSED AWAY, Ander asked the Nordstrom family to stay on the farm. But Katrina and the children decided to use the money from the sale of the farm to buy a new house in town. Katrina’s eyesight was worsening and, without Lordor, the farm was no longer the same for her or Ingrid or Teddy. They missed him too much. Especially Katrina. There were too many memories on the farm. There was a part of her that half-expected Lordor to walk in the back door at the end of the day. And every day that he hadn’t was painful. Losing Lordor prompted Katrina to sit down and write her daughter a letter while she could still see well enough to do it.

  My Darling Ingrid,

  If something should happen to me, I want you to have this handkerchief. It belonged to your grandmother, and it comes to you from so far away, so do take care of it. We have so few things left from the old country. I hope someday you will go and visit the place where I grew up.

  I am leaving Momma’s recipes to your brother. I think you will not mind. As your father said, “You either like to bake or you don’t,” and Teddy does.

  Do you know how proud you made your father and how proud I am of you? You are my very own American girl. Also, I am enclosing some baby things that Birdie Swensen knitted for you and your brother. They are so dear, and I could never bear to give them away.

  Love forever,

  Mother

  After she finished, she wrapped everything up and put it in a safe place.

  —

  WHEN LORDOR HAD BEEN up at Still Meadows for a while, he became even more pleased with himself than he had been before. From his new vantage point, he could see that there was a lovely view. He had indeed chosen the perfect place to be, and he could hardly wait for others to join him and tell him so. Of course, being older, Lordor thought he might have to wait awhile for Katrina, but in the meantime, he could hear the sound of the faraway cows in the pasture, roosters crowing, the soft whir of the tractors in the fields below, and church bells ringing on Sunday. All the sounds of home.

  He found that it was a relief not to have to worry about the farm anymore, and he liked having time to just rest and think. And he wasn’t lonesome. He had plenty of visitors on all the holidays. He loved having Katrina, Ingrid, and Teddy come up and seeing how tall Ingrid was growing. At first, he had tried to talk to them, but he realized they couldn’t hear him. But the good news was that he could hear them, and they always brought such interesting news. And it was nice to know that people had not forgotten him.

  Just last week, Ander Swensen had come up to see him and sat and talked about all the new things he was doing at the dairy now and said he hoped that Lordor would have approved. He had approved. Ander was a good man.

  1915

  Downtown Elmwood Springs continued to flourish. Two Greek brothers named Morgan opened up a real department store that carried all the latest men’s and ladies’ fashions. Katrina’s brother, Olaf, was hired to work in the shoe department.

  And also keeping up with the modern world, the old opera house had been converted into a moving picture theater. A projectionist was hired, a stand-up piano was brought in, and Birdie Swensen, the church organist, supplied the background music for all the different silent films, romance and chase music being her specialties.

  Moving pictures opened up a whole new world of imagination. Soon, all the young girls either wanted to be Mary Pickford or the vamp, Theda Bara. When The Perils of Pauline, starring Pearl White, came to town, Ingrid Nordstrom begged her mother for a pair of jodhpurs and boots, just like Pauline’s.

  Boys, enthralled with the adventures of silent screen star Tom Mix, “the king of cowboys,” started riding their fathers’ mules around the farm, pretending they were Tom Mix astride Tony the Wonder Horse, riding the range in search of bad guys.

  After the initial excitement of the movies was over, everything went on pretty much the same. Kids graduated from grammar school and high school, people got married, and babies were born.

  Elner Knott and Katrina’s niece Beatrice Olsen had just entered the first grade. Elner, the eldest Knott girl, already large for her age, was a good-natured, happy girl. She showed up for her first day of school wearing a homemade feed-sack dress and carrying a very large white tin lunch pail.

  Beatrice was small and delicate and had on a brand-new store-bought dress with a lace collar and white patent leather button-up shoes. Olaf had walked her to school that morning and handed her over to Miss Beemer personally. But Beatrice was still scared and nervous, being away from home for the first time.

  At the lunch recess, Beatrice ran over to a wooden bench and sat by herself crying. She wanted to go home. When Elner saw her sitting all alone, she picked up her lunch pail and went over and sat down by her. After a moment Elner said, “If you won’t tell on me, I’ll show you a secret…and it will be just between us. But you have to stop crying first.”

  “What is it?” said Beatrice through her tears.

  “You have to promise me you won’t tell,” said Elner.

  Beatrice sniffed and shook her head. “I won’t tell.”

  Then Elner slowly opened the lid of her lunch pail with small holes in it and said, “Look.”

  Beatrice leaned over and looked inside and saw a fluffy little yellow baby duck sitting in a small blue bowl.

  “His name is Pete, and you can pet him if you like.”

  Beatrice reached in and petted its soft downy head. “Ooh, he’s so cute,” she said.

  Elner said, “We’ve got lots more ducks and chickens at home. And some baby rabbits too.”

  “Really?”

  “Un-huh. Do you want a biscuit? I’ve got five of them under the towel. I’m German; we like to eat a lot.” She then reached under and pulled one out and handed it to Beatrice. “Here, eat this. I’ve got some jam, too.”

  After they had eaten all the biscuits, and petted the little duck some more, Elner said, “I can do
a somersault. Do you want to see it?”

  “Yes.”

  She did. And when her dress went up over her head and Beatrice saw her long white bloomers, it made her laugh.

  Later, when Miss Beemer rang the school bell, they went back in together, and Beatrice wasn’t scared anymore. They didn’t know it yet, but from that day on, they would be friends forever.

  —

  THINGS WENT ON PRETTY MUCH as usual, but then, in the spring of 1916, the men in Elmwood Springs began to feel very uneasy, and they weren’t sure why. It seemed their wives had begun to look at them in a strange way. They also noticed a lot of whispering going on among the ladies.

  Soon women began to attend secret meetings held in the middle of the day in the back room of the pharmacy, and after they all arrived for the meeting, they would lock the door. Hattie Smith, the pharmacist’s wife, stood guard outside. When her husband, Robert, politely inquired what they were doing in there, Hattie would only reply, “That’s for me to know.”

  The men didn’t know it, yet, but inside the room was a meeting of the brand-new Elmwood Springs Suffragette Club.

  Birdie Swensen, a subscriber to The Missouri Woman magazine, had passed an article regarding the subject of the vote to all the other ladies for them to read and discuss. There was a struggle going on, and even though Elmwood Springs was just a small town, they wanted to be a part of it.

  Birdie had been corresponding with the president of the St. Louis Woman’s Suffrage Association, and she told Birdie that something very important was going to happen in June. She warned them that it could be dangerous, but to a woman, they vowed to stand together shoulder to shoulder when the call to arms came. They might be a small group, but they were determined to take their place in history, no matter what the consequences.

  As the days went by, men would come home from work only to find their wives, still locked in their sewing rooms, working away on what, they did not know or care. They just knew there was no supper on the table, and Henry Knott, for one, was not happy about it. He wanted his creamed noodles and schnitzel at six o’clock on the dot.