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Images of an Immigrant Life
My Father, the Master Builder
By Helen Berge Mc Michael
My father, Otto Edvin Olsen Berge, was born on the Berge farm in Grimstad, Norway, December 16th 1894. His father, Knud Bjørn Olsen Berge, operated a grist mill and wood working shop where Otto learned the art of hand-dovetailing and all else it entailed. They specialized in carriage making. My grandfather became very ill with pneumonia and died at the age of 41 leaving my grandmother, Maren Anine, with eight children. Dad and his older brother, Samuel, took over the business as teenagers continuing the business, both the gristmill and the wood working. My father told me he had made a complete carriage at the age of 15. Then things became worse for my grandmother - she lost the mill and her home. According to my cousins in Grimstad she hadn’t been treated fairly as a widow and had everything taken away from her.
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Reflections of a Second-Generation Norwegian
by Mrs. Carma Pedersen
What I remember most of my early days was climbing gangplanks no matter how steep they were – or almost inaccessible.
My dad was with the Merchant Marine and I saw him very little. He enjoyed the sailing waters of Japan and the Middle East, which meant a six month trip. At the age of 14, after my Dad was confirmed in Norway, it was at that time the custom to go to sea. He was the oldest of six children.
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“Scandinavian Echoes” in the Norwegian Community - Part One
by Hans B. Bergren
Growing up in Bay Ridge in the late 30s and 49s, as I look back, was a unique experience. I, as many youngsters did, took things for granted. In my case, my father’s program, “Scandinavian Echoes was broadcast each Saturday morning. The records played and the announcements made by my father could be heard in the alleys and hallways throughout the neighborhood. It was almost a type of stereo. I accepted it as a part of life in the Bay Ridge community, not realizing he put together a weekly one-hour show. For his contribution to Norwegian culture through “Scandinavian Echoes”, my father was awarded the St. Olav’s Medal in 1961.
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“Scandinavian Echoes” in the Norwegian Community - Part Two
by Hans B. Bergren
Spring was always welcome since it broke the winter’s cold grip. Easter was an enjoyable holiday. All the local candy stores had the windows decorated with large chocolate Easter bunnies and pastel colored baskets full of various delicious candies. Easter was when you got your new suit, shoes etc. All the boys on our block made certain they met to compare their new outfits and, of course, no coats since it was practically summer. Spring also meant a new pair of sneakers, which made you fly and jump higher than anyone. These magical shoes were also an integral part of the beginning of the stickball season.
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Life in the Lighthouse, Norway to Long Island, New York
By Vivian Jensen Chapin
In 1894 a gypsy woman in my mother’s nearby Norwegian village told my then 10 year old mother, “You will go across the ocean and live next to a tall tower.” My mother recalled that old woman’s fortune telling years later, after 80 years of living on both sides of the Atlantic.
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A Trip Down Memory Lane
By Marie Harback Foley
As I sit in my kitchen looking at the Norwegian artifacts I have collected for many years – the Hardanger embroidered curtains and matching table runner, the light wood hand-carved clock and the rosemaling tray – fond memories of Southern Norway come back to me. All these treasures remind me of the many years it has been since my grandparents came to this country from Norway.
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Coming Back to America
By William G. Foss
Cleaning out closets is not a job I relish, especially when most of my closets resemble those owned by the famed closet stuffer, Fibber McGee. Since I had procrastinated to the nth degree – it could no longer be put off –I decided to tackle the easiest job first, the closet filled with boxes of scrapbooks and Christmas cards received years ago, stacks of 78 rpm phonograph records, a pile of misplaced and forgotten book, family games (who plays Chinese checkers these days?), large manila envelopes filled with who knows what, and umpteen photo albums.
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Settling in New York
By Elsie Edwardson Willumsen
It has been a pleasure this year reading “Norway Times”, “IMAGES OF AN IMMIGRANT LIFE”. I, as well, am an immigrant’s daughter. My mother, Astrid Ingebretsen, born March 25, 1897, came over to America at the age of 16 from Oslo to Ellis Island. At that time it was called Kristiania. It had to be the most memorable experience of her life as when in her later years she lapsed into her memories, she related this story over and over. She loved to tell us about leaving Norway with her mother carrying her baby sister in her arms and two young brothers beside her waving from the pier. Sadly, she never saw her dear Mama and Papa again.
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“Moving Around the Country, but Always Back to Brooklyn”
By Anna Hanssen
I was born in Bergen April 5th 1908 to Inga and Oscar Christensen and was baptized in Johannes “kirken”. My brother Johan was born in 1912 and my sister Inger in 1914.
My father was a machinist and was often away from home several years at a time.
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