Thanks to the efforts of their young mayor and his city council, and much to the delight of everyone in town, a huge water tower was built with ELMWOOD SPRINGS, MISSOURI written on it in big black letters. You could see it from miles away. Nobody knew why, but it made them feel important to look up and see it.
As more and more people from the younger generation moved from the farms and into town, a lot of new businesses began opening. The Trolley Car Diner opened next to the movie theater, and in 1920, a Miss Dixie Cahill rented the large room upstairs over the drugstore and opened the Dixie Cahill School of Tap and Twirl. And shortly thereafter, a lot of little girls and a few unhappy boys were immediately signed up.
Over at the picture show, Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton were making them laugh. And all the boys and girls in town had each fallen madly in love with their own special movie star. Mrs. Eggstrom even showed up at the box office and claimed that Greta Garbo was her second cousin on her father’s side by marriage. It was a long shot, but she did get a free ticket and a bag of popcorn.
—
ELMWOOD SPRINGS CONTINUED TO miss Lordor Nordstrom. May 22, the date the town had been incorporated, had been officially named Founder’s Day. Every year on that date, the city council and the entire grammar school and high school came up to Still Meadows and placed a huge bouquet on Lordor Nordstrom’s grave. Later, everyone in town would gather at the outdoor stage in the park for the annual pageant.
Lucille Beemer wrote, directed, and produced a musical pageant:
* * *
FROM SWEDEN TO MISSOURI: THE SAGA OF LORDOR NORDSTROM
* * *
The inspiring story told in song and dance of how in 1880, the twenty-eight-year-old Swedish pioneer left his homeland, traveled to the area, and cleared the land now called Elmwood Springs.
* * *
The pageant depicted Lordor and all the other early pioneer families arriving in the area one by one, each bringing farm animals and farm tools with them. Men were dressed in overalls, ladies in long dresses and gingham bonnets.
The pageant, first staged and performed in 1920, went off very well, except that some of the farm animals that had been cast as farm animals had misbehaved. In later years, they used large cardboard cutouts of sheep, pigs, cows, and mules instead. Not nearly as authentic, but as Lucille Beemer said, “Better safe than sorry.”
Since Katrina’s younger brother, Olaf Olsen, had taken over the shoe department at the Morgan Brothers Department Store, it had become very busy. All the children in town loved to come in and have him measure their feet with the silver and black steel sliding measuring device. After he measured their feet, he would always act surprised and kid them about how big their feet were, tell them that they were going to grow up and be a ten-foot giant, and then give them a stick of peppermint candy. Besides being a friendly type of person, Olaf also had the kind of looks and manners that all the ladies and girls appreciated: hair slicked back, and always wearing a nice, neat white collar. Naturally, he had a lot of female customers who would come in at least once a week and spend an hour or so trying on shoes. He didn’t mind. He knew they would eventually buy a pair.
—
IT WAS A SATURDAY in May of 1921, and Olaf was, at present, waiting on three ladies who were busy discussing their favorite topic, Ingrid Nordstrom. As Olaf was removing the eighth pair of shoes from a box for Mrs. Bell to try on, she said, “Oh, and Olaf, how is that darling little daughter of yours…little Bertha?”
He smiled. “You mean Beatrice?”
“That’s right, Beatrice.”
“She is just fine, Mrs. Bell. She and her school friend Elner Knott are at the movies. They should be here any minute now.”
“How old is she now?”
“Ten, almost eleven.”
“Ah, well, you won’t have to worry about finding her a husband for a while, yet.”
When Olaf left to go into the back room and bring out more shoes, the ladies continued their conversation about Ingrid Nordstrom. “She was such a daddy’s girl. I don’t think she’ll ever find anybody who could live up to Lordor Nordstrom,” said Mrs. Bell.
“No, he was one of a kind. They just don’t make men like that anymore,” Mabel Whooten said, weighing in on the subject. “Well, even if she doesn’t find a man, Miss Beemer never married, and she seems happy enough.”
“Of course, she seems happy, Mabel,” said Mrs. Gumms, “but you know, no woman is really happy without a home and children.”
Mrs. Bell said, “I’m not so sure about that. Oh, not that I don’t love Lloyd and the children, but still…it might be nice to have a little time to myself every once in a while.” She sighed. “But even so, I just hope, for Ingrid’s sake, she finds somebody nice.”
Finally, after six more pairs of shoes were trotted out, Mrs. Bell tried on a pair that felt comfortable. But when she took them off and looked at the size, she was alarmed. “Olaf, I wear a size five. These are size seven!”
Olaf looked at the shoe and said, “Oh, Mrs. Bell, you’re right. This brand always runs exactly two sizes too small. It’s really a five.”
“Oh, I see….Well, in that case, I’ll take them.”
After the two ladies left and Olaf was gathering up all the boxes of rejects, he had to smile. They had forgotten that Ingrid Nordstrom was his niece. He’d known Ingrid all her life. He wasn’t worried about her one bit.
Just then, his daughter, Beatrice, came running through the store and back to the shoe department, dragging her friend Elner Knott by the hand. “Daddy, Elner wants you to measure her feet!”
He laughed. “Okay…come here, honey. Take off your shoes and put your foot right here.” Elner took off her shoes and placed her foot on the machine. “Stand up straight now, and don’t move.” Olaf pulled the lever back until it touched her toes and noted the size. Elner had rather large feet for a girl her age. But he didn’t tell her that. He feigned surprise and said, “Oh, my…look at that. Why, Elner, you have the exact same size feet as Princess Margaret of Sweden. You must have royal blood.” Then he looked at Beatrice with mock solemnness. “Beatrice, we have to do exactly what she tells us to do from now on.”
Beatrice giggled and said, “Now do my feet, Daddy.”
—
ELNER, AS SHE OFTEN DID, spent that night in town with Beatrice. Later, when they were in bed, as young girls do, they talked about what they wanted to be when they grew up. Beatrice was very specific. She said, “I want to marry a handsome man and have three children, two boys and one little girl, and I’m going to name her Hanna Marie, after my grandmother in Sweden. What about you, Elner? How many children do you want?”
Elner thought about it, then said, “Oh, I don’t know, Beatrice. Momma said having babies is awful painful. I think I’d just as soon have a litter of kittens myself.”
Beatrice laughed and said, “You can’t have kittens, silly!”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re a person. You have to have babies.”
“I do?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s too bad. I’d rather have kittens.”
1922
To everyone’s surprise, Lordor and Katrina’s daughter, Ingrid, became the very first female to attend the famous Iowa State College of Veterinary Medicine. But it had not been easy.
Although she had scored the highest of anyone on her entrance exam, when first-year student I. Nordstrom turned out to be a female, Mr. Richard Livermore, the faculty administrator, had been thunderstruck.
This had never happened before. He quickly called a meeting of the faculty and the dean of admissions to figure out how best to handle the mistake and get rid of her as gracefully as possible. But when Mr. Livermore’s wife heard about Ingrid showing up for school, she marched into the meeting and addressed her husband. “You’d better accept that girl in this school, Mr. Livermore, or you will hear from every woman in Iowa…starting with me!”
Nobody wanted to cross M
rs. Livermore. And, as the dean said, “If we keep her out, there will be hell to pay.” So they let her in.
Ingrid knew the next years of study would be a lot of hard work and that she would face a lot of opposition from the male students who were not happy about her being there. But she was a lot like her mother, brave and determined. And, thankfully, there was at least one young male student who was awfully glad she was there.
—
THERE WAS ANOTHER SURPRISE that year, only this time, it was up at Still Meadows. Late one afternoon, Nancy Knott was singing one of her favorite German drinking songs when suddenly, right in the middle of the tune, she stopped. They all waited for her to pick up the tune again, but they heard nothing but silence. After calling to her for some time and receiving no reply, it was clear to them that Nancy was definitely not there. It had happened again.
When Lordor and Katrina then explained to the others about Mr. Chapman’s earlier disappearance, a somewhat irritated Henry Knott said, “Well, ain’t that just like Nancy to up and disappear on me right in the middle of a song. I tell you, that woman always did have a mind of her own. And now she’s flew the coop without a goodbye or nothing. Well, dang.”
Even though some said he was too mean to die, Old Man Hendersen finally expired and came up to Still Meadows. And, as expected, after the folks on the hill had all greeted him, he let them know that he had no interest in conversation. He said, “I’m glad you’re glad I’m here, but how in the hell can I rest in peace if all of you keep nattering at me? I need my sleep. Good night!”
Lordor laughed. “I guess it’s nice to know some things never change. Let the old boy sleep.” So they did.
Over the next couple of years or so, old Mrs. Tildholme; Birdie’s husband, Lars; Mrs. Lindquist; and the Eggstroms came up to Still Meadows. It was so good to be with them again.
And it was nice to know they all could still laugh. There were a lot of things to laugh at up at Still Meadows. Every Halloween, invariably, some boys in town would dare one another to go out and spend the night at the cemetery to prove how brave they were.
Last Halloween, around midnight, after two little boys had just finished rolling out their sleeping bags, a huge owl hooted and flew out of a tree, and the two boys screamed like little girls and ran home. They never did come back for their sleeping bags. And, of course, there was the water tower. Boys were always trying to climb up to the top, but most got scared and stopped halfway up. The men up at Still Meadows would watch and make bets on who would make it.
—
IN SEPTEMBER 1923, Mrs. Hattie Smith became the very last of the old settlers to join her old friends, and she could hardly wait to tell Katrina the good news. “We got the vote! The bill passed!”
“Oh, Hattie! How wonderful. Did you hear that, Lordor? Women can vote.”
Before he could respond, Hattie continued. “And that’s not all. Hold on to your hat. You and Lordor are now two old grandparents. A big, fine boy named Gene Lordor Nordstrom, after his grandpa.”
Katrina was thrilled. “Oh, Lordor, we have a grandson.”
“A boy? What does he look like? Have you seen him?”
“What do you think? He looks just like you, Lordor. Blond, blue eyes…you just wait. They’ll surely be up to visit at Christmas. You’ll see for yourself.”
Hattie Smith had been right. That Christmas, when Ted and his wife, Gerta, came out and decorated their grave, Katrina and Lordor saw their new grandbaby, nine-month-old Gene Lordor, for the first time, and just as Hattie said, he was a blond boy with blue eyes, and he did look like his grandfather.
In Elmwood Springs, as everywhere, the last generation moved on, and the next one was coming up right behind it. Besides Lordor and Katrina’s new grandson, one of the Lindquist girls, Hazel, had married Clarence Goodnight, and they now had eight-year-old twin girls named Bess and Ada and a little one on the way.
In 1927, Charles Lindbergh thrilled the world with his flight over the Atlantic, and everyone was singing and dancing to the new tune “Lucky Lindy.”
In Elmwood Springs, the whole town was abuzz about the upcoming wedding of Ingrid Nordstrom. As Hazel Goodnight said to Gerta over at the bakery, “We don’t hear from her for years, and now she’s coming home and marrying a total stranger.”
“Not only that,” said Gerta, handing Hazel a large cream puff in a small pink box, “he’s from Texas!”
Ingrid’s young man, Ray Wallace, was a lot like her father. He loved a smart woman, and he had been mad for Ingrid the first day he met her. He pursued her all through the first two years of school, mostly being turned down. But one day, while they were in the middle of a class, and out of the clear blue sky, she decided she loved him and told him she would marry him right after graduation. He had nearly fainted, and Ingrid continued dissecting the large bull cadaver on the table. She was fascinated with its reproductive system, in comparison to that of the equine family.
The couple, along with his parents and brothers and sisters, arrived in town the day before the big ceremony. The wedding party was mostly a family affair. Ingrid’s brother, Ted, baked the wedding cake and also walked her down the aisle. Her sister-in-law Gerta was matron of honor, and her cousin, seventeen-year-old Beatrice Olsen, was a bridesmaid. And last, but not least, Katrina and Lordor’s grandson, little four-year-old Gene Nordstrom, who was the ring bearer. They all talked about how sad it was that Lordor and Katrina had not lived to see this day.
Everyone in town came, except Morris Shingle. He was still afraid of Ingrid, after she’d socked him in the nose that time, so he just skulked in the bushes, watching through the window. However, he did send his little boy, Lester, into the reception to steal a piece of cake.
—
EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, before the couple left for their honeymoon, Lordor Nordstrom looked up and was surprised to see their daughter, Ingrid, standing above them. “Katrina, wake up!” he said.
After Ingrid had placed her wedding bouquet on their grave, she began to speak. “Momma, Daddy. This is Dr. Ray Wallace, my husband. We just got married, and I wanted you to meet him.” She motioned for him to step up. “And he has something he wants to say.”
The young man in the new blue suit cleared his throat and began. “Uh, hello, I’m awfully sorry we didn’t have a chance to meet, but I just wanted you to know how much I love your daughter. Ingrid is the grandest girl in the world, and I want to thank you for having her…and to tell you that you don’t have to worry about her. I’m going to take very good care of her for you from now on.”
Ingrid stepped up and took his hand and said, “He will, too. Guess where he’s taking me on our honeymoon? Sweden! And we are going to see where you and Uncle Olaf grew up. I still have the handkerchief you left me, Momma. I had it with me at the wedding as something old. Well…goodbye for now. I love you.”
After they left, Katrina said, “Oh, Lordor, just think, our baby is married. And didn’t she just look beautiful? I can tell she’s happy. And the boy seemed very sincere, don’t you think?”
“He seemed all right, I guess.”
It was a typical reaction. Katrina knew that daddies never think anybody is good enough for their daughters, and a little while later, she said, “You know, Lordor, there was something about that young man that reminded me of you.”
“You think so?” asked Lordor, brightening up a bit.
“Oh, yes. He seems very strong and steady, and very smart. Just like you.”
Lordor didn’t say anything more, but he did feel a little better. If Katrina liked him, he couldn’t be all that bad.
—
ANDER SWENSEN NOT ONLY owned the Nordstrom dairy, he had inherited his family’s adjoining farm, and was now in charge of a very large dairy operation. He rarely had time to go anywhere, but, of course, he had attended his friend Ingrid’s wedding.
Romance must have been in the air that year. Ander had known Beatrice Olsen since she was a little girl, but somehow that day, w
hen he saw a very much grown-up Beatrice walk down the aisle in her pretty pink bridesmaid dress, something happened. Cupid shot an arrow that hit poor Ander right between the eyes, because all at once, he was in love. Weddings have a way of doing that.
As for Ingrid, right after the honeymoon, she and Ray moved to his hometown of Mansfield, Texas, right outside of Dallas, and started a veterinary practice together. Although they treated all animals, Ingrid, not so surprisingly, had a special interest in cows. And she loved the wide open spaces of Texas and got to wear cowboy boots every day.
Very soon after Ander Swensen had seen Beatrice Olsen at Ingrid’s wedding, he began asking her out. Ander realized that at age thirty-two he was a little older than most of her other boyfriends, and she might be uncomfortable about it. So he always made it a point to include her friend Elner in all of his invitations. And that suited Elner just fine. That summer she got to go for a lot of rides in Ander’s new car, eat in several fancy restaurants, and see a lot of good movies. The three friends had a lot of fun together that summer. As it turned out, Ander could be as silly as Elner. One time he picked them up wearing a blond curly wig. Another time he drove them all the way to Springfield and back with the top down.
On the afternoon of August the twelfth, at Beatrice’s big eighteenth birthday party in the town park, people were squealing with laughter, watching all the ladies and young girls running in the “egg in spoon” footrace. The object was to see who could reach the finish line without dropping the egg. And as usual, Elner won. She ran in her bare feet, holding up her dress with one hand and the spoon and egg with the other. For a big girl, she could move fast.