Gustav Johnson: (Born Gustav Amateus Johanson)
In 1903, at the age of 15, Gustav left Horken for Stockholm to find work. He worked as an errand boy for a meat market for three months, then obtained a better job at a "conditerie" - a confectionary and pastry shop. He worked here for the next 18 months.
Becoming lonesome for his parents, he went home to Horken. A neighbor who had been in America (Iowa) filled Gustav's head with thoughts of America as a land of "golden opportunity". One day as he was helping his father build a barn, he just threw down the hammer he was using, borrowed a bicycle and rode to the home of a rich man. He borrowed 600 Korona and made the decision to go to America.
Little did he know of the hardships, worries, and near-starvation which would come to him by leaving his comfortable home. His parents did not want their son of nearly 18 years to embark on such a trip but the boy was not to be dissuaded. Gus planned to go with his brother John who was 10 years older than Gus and was supposed to take care of him.
The spring of 1906 found the two boys in a strange country. They only knew two words of English - yes and no. But nevertheless, they went on undaunted. The spacious building, estates, and parks of New York gave them new life and hope. One problem, however, was that a Jewish man tricked them out of all their remaining money and they had to work for a while before they could continue their journey. From that time forward, Gus never had a kind thing to say about the Jewish people.
One day, they boarded a train for Minneapolis, Minnesota with a letter of introduction from their neighbor who had lived in Iowa. The people they were sent to owned a large dry farm. After arriving in Minneapolis, they had to walk many miles from the railroad station to get to the farm. As they arrived at the house, the dinner dishes were just being cleared from the table. The boys didn't have any money and hadn't eaten for two days. The housewife asked them "Have you had your supper?"
They both said "Yes", because to them it sounded as though she had asked "Do you want some supper?"
The starved boys waited for some thing to eat but the woman continued to clear the food away. The boys were too proud and. frightened to ask for anything and didn't want to appear foolish, so they just went to bed hungry. This was the beginning of many strange and peculiar incidences which were to happen to them before they became more knowledgeable in the English language.
John and Gustav left Minnesota in the fall of that year (1906) and worked for $2.50 a day in North Dakota on another farm. They liked the new country of America so much that before long, Gustav's elder brother Max (two years his senior) decided to join them. The summer of 1907, John remained on the farm since he really liked that type of work and Max acquired a job in a Minneapolis bakery. Gustav, however, was not satisfied and left the central states for Montana.
He was hired by the Milwaukee Railroad Company as a "flunkie" - a waiter in a railroad camp where they were building railroads to the Pacific Coast.
He arrived in Miles City, Custer County, Montana on a Saturday. Miles City was everything the wild west was notorious for: cowboys, liquor, gambling, and all that goes with it.
Dr. Lorman Hoopes notes in his book This Last West, "...we have twenty-three saloons in our town and they all do a good business; we are going to have one church soon, and the population is 550 people."
Miles City soon required other services, too. Merchants, saddle shops, and laundry houses soon followed with other respectable businesses. The lush prairie brought sheepherders, cattle ranchers, and those looking for new hope out west. With the railroad traveling through Miles City, the stage coach, and nearby ferry, it did not take long for Miles City to become the hub of eastern Montana and the west.
It was a typical 1907 wild west town-- especially on Saturday night. The cowboys came with their ten gallon hats, spurs, and chaps. They tied their horses to the hitching posts along main street. These horses were some of the most beautiful Gustav had ever seen. He had never imagined such wonderful animals even existed.
On Sunday, he found the town as dead as it had been lively the night before. He walked up and down the street several times before he noticed anyone up and about. The one person he saw was a middle aged man sitting in a bakery window. Walking into the shop, the 19 year old Swedish kid tried his best in broken English to say that he had once worked in a bakery. The man in the bakery asked: "So, du ar Svensk?" (so, are you a Swede?). Gustav cried out: "Du ar Svensk, ocksa?" (you're a Swede, too?). He had tears of joy streaming down his face.
This was the beginning of a wonderful friendship. The man, Albert Berner Carl Lindburge and the homesick lad talked for hours to each other of 'home' in their native tongue. Gustav stayed there at Lindurge's (American translation, 'Lindeberg's') Bakery as a baker for four years, returning only for short vacations to North Dakota and Minnesota.
Frank Wiley of Miles City, Montana, recalls a wonderful story about Lindeberg's Bakery, "A place on Main Street that attracted youngsters was Lindeberg's Bakery. Out behind was a big pigeon loft over the barn and a yard fenced in and covered with chicken wire. In the yard were rare breeds of pigeons and colorful birds of many kinds, including peacocks, Chinese pheasants, quail, ducks, Mexican game cocks and several kinds of chickens that I couldn't identify. This feathered menagerie was a hobby with Mr. Lindeberg.
The bakery had a beautiful bay horse with big feet that pulled the delivery truck. Every morning the old man who drove the truck would lead the horse down to the fountain in front of the courthouse to get a drink. The frisky old horse would try to step on the delivery man, who in turn looked as if he was pushing on the rope as he danced to keep from getting his feet stepped on. That fountain was a well-used municipal utility appreciated by kids, horses and dogs, and where we all got a drink. It now, very fittingly, is in front of the Range Riders Museum."
No comments:
Post a Comment