I have spent a great deal of time blogging about my family history. Last week was a visit to your Mom’s “side” of the family. Because Nana was one of nine children, the number of names and relationships is overwhelming.
We journeyed to Moorhead, Minnesota. It is really a suburb of Fargo, North Dakota. It is the home of Nana’s sister Lois. Lois was a gracious host and she arranged for some members of the Kruschke clan to join us.
It starts with Nana’s Dad. His name was Otto. He had a girl friend in New Ulum. Otto went to the girl’s Dad and asked for her hand in marriage. The Dad said “no”. The reason for rejecting Otto is that he was “an immigrant”. It was a blatant case of discrimination. Otto and his sister had fled Germany’s war machine by coming to America. I think Otto was 14 years old at the time. The irony is that Otto’s girl friend was name Reike and her family had immigrated to America in previous years. The “Otto the immigrant” story was told over and over and over. Otto ultimatedly triumphed. He became a carpenter and eventually owned his own 600 acre farm. Not bad for a young man in a new country.
Next I became aware that the Kruschke clan is inundated with teachers. We visited Nana’s sister Lois who was a teacher. Lois’ deceased husband Chet was a teacher. Lois had her daugher Barbara join us. Yep, she is a retired teacher. Barb’s husband was a teacher. Lois’ son Keith was a teacher as was his wife. We were joined by Lois’ nephew Marlyn, a retired teacher along with his wife Peggy, a retired teacher. Teachers, teachers everywhere.
The trip out west through Minnesota consisted of 70 mph speed limits, straight roads and flat farm fields. Trucks were passing me doing 85 mph.
Did I mention that we encountered rain. It rained the day we arrived. It rained the day we visited and it rained on the way to Minneapolis.
So my memories of Nana’s family will be of “Otto the immigrant”, a farming legacy and an evolution to a family of teachers. The trip put a “face” on some of Nana’s stories.
And now, home sweet home.
Love,
Dad