Sunday, December 30, 2007
Christmas 2007
We started off the Christmas season Dec 2nd with a fun dance at the Polka Club. There are over 200 people in attendance dancing to the music by the Jim Ehrlich band. It was a nicely dinner catered by Boston Market. A pleasant surprise that all went smoothly and we all had some fun.
It was harder this year to stop the everyday train from speeding down the track. On Saturday Dec 8th, Stan, Jamie and I took a morning to deliver “Baskets of Joy” to a few of those senior folks in our neighborhood that are less fortunate than us. Early on a brisk snowy morning, we picked up a list of names and fruit baskets from a huge warehouse east of town. The place was a buzz with activity. Volunteers were lined up on both sides of tables in assembly-line fashion to fill thousands of gift baskets and wrap them in festive gold cellophane and ribbons. We hurried back home to Google the addresses and plan our deliveries. Stan made phone calls to let the seniors know we’d be coming. The first house had a bronze sign beside the front door about being an historic landmark as a former Colorado governor’s home in the 1940’s. A charming lady stood in the doorway dressed in her red and white hand knit sweater to cheerfully accept the basket. Her husband, a recent cancer patient, lingered just inside. The next homes were as expected, filled with such grateful people happy to be remembered, but living in marginal situations. As we tramped through the narrow streets of an old trailer park, we wondered how the homes could possibly retain warmth on such cold winter days. Singing Christmas Carols at each doorway lifted our spirits and removed the pressures of normal life events.
Stan and I topped off that day at Hal and Jean’s afternoon sit down chili supper for 20 or so friends from the polka club. We watched the snow gently falling in their backyard as we cozied up to chat and share experiences. We enjoy the weekly polka dances, picking the bands that most fit our taste. Stan mostly polka dances like he’s on a marathon and I do best I can to keep up until he flings me back down in my chair to rest.
I started reading Pillars of the Earth, by Ken Follet around Thanksgiving time when Oprah added it to her book club recommendations. It is a 971 page turner. Stan picked it up when I was about 200 pages into the book and speed right past me. I started vacation 12/17 so I could read in earnest. We both finished it on the 12/27. It is interesting to read the same book at the same time. We could compare where we were along the way without letting the cat out of the bag for the next exciting adventure.
John and Rachel came on the 20th. Their flight was so overbooked on the 19th that they took the offer for free tickets and waited a day. That gave me time to catch up a little.
I made a few batches of cookies between reading and tree decorating and we all had plenty to eat along the way. On Christmas Eve we took Rachel to the St Joseph's catholic church for midnight mass. The service and singing were all in Polish. It was a treat for Stan as he sang along to Polish Christmas carols that he knew as a child. I'm sure it was a very different experience for Rachel.
We all visited the Hammond's candy factory where they make candy canes from scratch. They day we were there, they were making coal for bad little children. The flavor is cinammon and turns your mouth blue when you eat it. Poor little bad kids.
We had a big snow storm on Christmas day to add to the festivities. After we shoveled and snow blew out driveway, we all jumped in the van along with the snow blower and spent some time shoveling the apartment.
Rachel and John left on the 26th. Stan and I were shoveling 10 or so more inches on the 28th. My idea is to hit the snow when it is soft and powdery before that moisture or ice set in. It's more fun that way. Did I say Fun.!. Yes, invigorating.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
1/10/2007 Running of the Bulls Denver Style
Helen Fischer
Joyce Kropewnicki
Couple from Northern Ireland
On a warm January Wednesday between snow storms my friend Helen and I ventured out at lunch time to watch the Stock Show parade down 17th Street in Denver. The snow was still piled high on the curbs from the two previous weekend snows.
As we waited in the sunshine for the parade to start, we struck up a conversation with a young couple visiting from Northern Ireland. They wanted to know what we were all doing lined up along the roadway. They had heard we had large quantities of snow and were surprised the streets were so well cleared off. In Ireland they said the snow would still be piled up in the road way. They were traveling through Denver on their way to Aspen to get married. They had known each other for three years and had planned this secret ceremony. They had to do some finagling to arrange for a church wedding as the Catholic Church in Aspen only wanted to marry members. With proper conversations with their priest in Ireland and the one in Aspen it was all arranged. The bride had kept this secret from her family including the purchase and fitting of the wedding gown which she had tucked in her luggage neatly hidden from her groom. There wedding was to be on Monday, January 15th which turned out to be one of the chill stopping days when the next Arctic blast hit Colorado.
Finally, the horseman came trotting down the street containing a herd of long-horns. Not quite the running of the bulls as you hear about in Spain, but bulls in the street nevertheless. The rodeo queens pranced by waiving wildly. Then the Belgiums and draft horses pulling great carriages and stage coaches. The Western Aires trotted by, criss-crossing in formation with flags flurrying. Freshly painted old time tractors buzzed along with one barring the brand name Oliver.
A couple of years ago, my brother Alan took us to the Stock Show. It's one of those things you don’t go to unless out of town visitors set it up. My favorite was watching the teams of horses pulling fancied up wagons in competition with others. We walked through the cow barns and came across those shaggy cows. I snapped a photo of Alan. He had sent a photo years back with the same type of cow along side a road in Scotland.
No wonder Denver is known as a cow town.
1-10-2007 Harold Swanson 11/1/1913 - 1/10/1988
Harold Swanson
Frank - Hanna Swanson Family - 1900 Loveland
Anna and Carl Swanson - 1912 Wedding
Anna, Harold, Clarence (Swede) and Carl Swanson - 1917
Harold and Clarence Swanson and with cousins Russ, Lenoard, and Leroy Johnson
at Frank Swanson's home in Greeley
Harold and Clarence playing with cousins Russ, Lenoard, and Leroy Johnson- 1922
1938 - Swanson Farm -
Built by Frank 1901, then inherited by Ben and finally bought by Harold Swanson
Harold and Frances Swanson - 3/7/1935
Swanson Farm in 1985
Frances Harold Swanson with Nancy and Alan
Harold and Frances Swanson - 50th Anniversary 1985
John Kropewnicki and his Grandpa Harold Swanson
Today is my Dad, Harold Swanson’s, death day. I want to remember him.
He led an interesting life. He was the first son of a Swedish family that had settled in Colorado. His mom, Anna Swanson emigrated here at age 16 from Sweden. His father, Carl Swanson’s father Frank O Swanson has also immigrated from Sweden to America as a young boy. It was interesting to check the Ellis Island web site and find their names on the manifests. It must have taken a lot of courage to leave their home land and venture to a new world to make a life.
Frank and his family settled in a farm between Greeley and Loveland before they bought almost a couple hundred acres a farm northeast of Greeley. Anna and Carl settled a mile from Frank to raise their family. It was a tight Swedish community that worked, socialized and went to church together. Harold spoke Swedish as a young child, but as soon as he entered school he was told by his parents that he would learn and use English. When I grew up we used very little Swedish; only for prayers before meals and a few words I heard from time to time from my Grandma Anna.
Harold went to College High in Greeley and was really good at basketball. He was a handsome man and was lucky to meet my Mom, Frances. Harold’s brother Swede was dating Ruth Johnson who had a locker next to my Mom at Greeley high school. Ruth invited Frances to a church get-together and there she met my dad. It must have been challenging for Frances to integrate into this tight Swedish community as she was Irish/English and had a much different background.
They married in 1935 and lived happily ever after with the normal bumps in the roads couples encounter from time to time. My mom looked gorgeous in her gown on her wedding day with a great cascade of flowers flowing from her arms. She had barrowed a veil from a friend and during the reception the gossamer fabric caught fire from one of the candles on the table. It was quickly extinguished, but certainly started off the marriage with passion.
My mom showed perseverance and was happy to follow the rules set by Frank, Carl, Anna and Harold. Harold and Frances started out in a small house in the yard where Anna and Carl lived and then moved to rent the farm we called Tipton’s, after the owner’s name.
When Harold first started farming he and Carl used horses. It must have been a hard job to harness up the horses, work the fields all day and then care for the horses at the end of the day before he could come to the house for supper. I don’t remember horses being used in the fields, but do remember the harnesses and other gear that hung in the old barns on the walls. Tractors were used as there were always a lot of machinery lined up in the yard and the sheds. In those days the farmers weren’t so specialized and Harold grew all kinds of crops such as corn, beans, potatoes, barley, alfalfa and sugar beets. Each crop required different machinery. Harold also managed a herd of Holstein dairy cows he milked twice a day at 4 am and 4 pm. The cows eagerly lined up at the milk barn door to be milked first by hand and later years with high tech milking machines.
I grew up at Tipton’s until I was about 11. There was a pit toilet in the yard, but we had an inside bathroom that must have been added before I was born. My mom took care of the house, raised chickens and fed the baby calves. There was always something going on. There was a big tree trunk about three feet tall by three feet wide in the yard by the chicken coop. This was used to cut off the chicken’s heads when it was time to butcher. There was a great vat of hot water that they used to pick off all the feathers. I’m sure my sister Nancy remembers more of that work than I do.
All farm crops and milk were sold to local co-ops or produce companies. The family lived on the eggs, meat from chickens and an occasional steer. Dad was always very generous and took care to tithe his pay and his crops. He would often drop off sacks of potatoes to his brother’s family, the preacher and other friends/relatives.
He had a great work shop stacked with cubby holes filled with all kinds of parts to fix tractors and machinery. He was a Case man and always bought that brand of tractor. In the winter months he would go to town and stop by the Case implement shop. I would tag along and knew he enjoyed visiting with other farmers and the shop’s owner, Tom Faye.
In about 1957 when I was 11 we moved around the corner to the farm that Frank had owned and subsequently parceled out and passed on to his children. Dad and Mom bought 80 acres from our Uncle Ben Swanson. It had a great barn and a big old two story house. Dad wanted to make it great for Mom, so this was one of the few times I saw him take an interest in the inside of a house. His domain was the farm, yard, machinery and cows. This time he hired out a remodel to put up new wall paper in all the bedrooms, open up the parlor and the dinning room into one great room and buy some new living room furniture from Rucker’s. There was always a piano in the house and this time it was in by the front door. He loved music and my sister became an accomplished pianist. He would often ask her to play when we had guests. She had already married her husband Bob by the time we moved to this home.
If you looked back on crop prices, this must have been a good year. We had things, but lived very modest conservative life. This was about the same year we got a new car. Dad drove the same car for over ten years until there was nothing left. He bought a brand new 1955 royal blue Chrysler. He was a great planner and strategically thought through all purchases. During this car buy Desoto had a tri-color car he was evaluating at the same time. You could choose white, black and turquoise and order the color in a variety of placements on the car. He fretted so much over this color scheme deal that finally he picked this pretty blue Chrysler. Best he made the selection he did as the Desoto color scheme cars got dated real quickly. He could have waited until 1958 and bought an Edsel as the Goldsmith’s (who lived up the road from us) did, which also would have gone out of favor quickly.
He liked to tinker with things. I could tell if he was content and happy as he would whistle a little tune as he worked. His hobby was movie pictures and he was known as the guy who always took pictures during family parties, church picnics and trips to the mountains. He would splice the reels together and show then when family visited. He would run them forward and got a kick out of reversing the projector or speeding up the action. It was always a great laugh.
We had most everything we needed and some of what we wanted when we grew up. He made a nice life for us filled with family values, strong religious connection and a passion to give to others. He was a 4-H leader for over 25 years and coached the kids about crops, showing animals and their baseball team. He gave me my heart’s desire at ten in a black horse named Queenie and all the outdoor tom boy time a girl could ask for. He made sure we all went to college and took an active interest in each of his kid’s families as we moved away to start our own lives.
It’s nice to think about him today.
Frank - Hanna Swanson Family - 1900 Loveland
Anna and Carl Swanson - 1912 Wedding
Anna, Harold, Clarence (Swede) and Carl Swanson - 1917
Harold and Clarence Swanson and with cousins Russ, Lenoard, and Leroy Johnson
at Frank Swanson's home in Greeley
Harold and Clarence playing with cousins Russ, Lenoard, and Leroy Johnson- 1922
1938 - Swanson Farm -
Built by Frank 1901, then inherited by Ben and finally bought by Harold Swanson
Harold and Frances Swanson - 3/7/1935
Swanson Farm in 1985
Frances Harold Swanson with Nancy and Alan
Harold and Frances Swanson - 50th Anniversary 1985
John Kropewnicki and his Grandpa Harold Swanson
Today is my Dad, Harold Swanson’s, death day. I want to remember him.
He led an interesting life. He was the first son of a Swedish family that had settled in Colorado. His mom, Anna Swanson emigrated here at age 16 from Sweden. His father, Carl Swanson’s father Frank O Swanson has also immigrated from Sweden to America as a young boy. It was interesting to check the Ellis Island web site and find their names on the manifests. It must have taken a lot of courage to leave their home land and venture to a new world to make a life.
Frank and his family settled in a farm between Greeley and Loveland before they bought almost a couple hundred acres a farm northeast of Greeley. Anna and Carl settled a mile from Frank to raise their family. It was a tight Swedish community that worked, socialized and went to church together. Harold spoke Swedish as a young child, but as soon as he entered school he was told by his parents that he would learn and use English. When I grew up we used very little Swedish; only for prayers before meals and a few words I heard from time to time from my Grandma Anna.
Harold went to College High in Greeley and was really good at basketball. He was a handsome man and was lucky to meet my Mom, Frances. Harold’s brother Swede was dating Ruth Johnson who had a locker next to my Mom at Greeley high school. Ruth invited Frances to a church get-together and there she met my dad. It must have been challenging for Frances to integrate into this tight Swedish community as she was Irish/English and had a much different background.
They married in 1935 and lived happily ever after with the normal bumps in the roads couples encounter from time to time. My mom looked gorgeous in her gown on her wedding day with a great cascade of flowers flowing from her arms. She had barrowed a veil from a friend and during the reception the gossamer fabric caught fire from one of the candles on the table. It was quickly extinguished, but certainly started off the marriage with passion.
My mom showed perseverance and was happy to follow the rules set by Frank, Carl, Anna and Harold. Harold and Frances started out in a small house in the yard where Anna and Carl lived and then moved to rent the farm we called Tipton’s, after the owner’s name.
When Harold first started farming he and Carl used horses. It must have been a hard job to harness up the horses, work the fields all day and then care for the horses at the end of the day before he could come to the house for supper. I don’t remember horses being used in the fields, but do remember the harnesses and other gear that hung in the old barns on the walls. Tractors were used as there were always a lot of machinery lined up in the yard and the sheds. In those days the farmers weren’t so specialized and Harold grew all kinds of crops such as corn, beans, potatoes, barley, alfalfa and sugar beets. Each crop required different machinery. Harold also managed a herd of Holstein dairy cows he milked twice a day at 4 am and 4 pm. The cows eagerly lined up at the milk barn door to be milked first by hand and later years with high tech milking machines.
I grew up at Tipton’s until I was about 11. There was a pit toilet in the yard, but we had an inside bathroom that must have been added before I was born. My mom took care of the house, raised chickens and fed the baby calves. There was always something going on. There was a big tree trunk about three feet tall by three feet wide in the yard by the chicken coop. This was used to cut off the chicken’s heads when it was time to butcher. There was a great vat of hot water that they used to pick off all the feathers. I’m sure my sister Nancy remembers more of that work than I do.
All farm crops and milk were sold to local co-ops or produce companies. The family lived on the eggs, meat from chickens and an occasional steer. Dad was always very generous and took care to tithe his pay and his crops. He would often drop off sacks of potatoes to his brother’s family, the preacher and other friends/relatives.
He had a great work shop stacked with cubby holes filled with all kinds of parts to fix tractors and machinery. He was a Case man and always bought that brand of tractor. In the winter months he would go to town and stop by the Case implement shop. I would tag along and knew he enjoyed visiting with other farmers and the shop’s owner, Tom Faye.
In about 1957 when I was 11 we moved around the corner to the farm that Frank had owned and subsequently parceled out and passed on to his children. Dad and Mom bought 80 acres from our Uncle Ben Swanson. It had a great barn and a big old two story house. Dad wanted to make it great for Mom, so this was one of the few times I saw him take an interest in the inside of a house. His domain was the farm, yard, machinery and cows. This time he hired out a remodel to put up new wall paper in all the bedrooms, open up the parlor and the dinning room into one great room and buy some new living room furniture from Rucker’s. There was always a piano in the house and this time it was in by the front door. He loved music and my sister became an accomplished pianist. He would often ask her to play when we had guests. She had already married her husband Bob by the time we moved to this home.
If you looked back on crop prices, this must have been a good year. We had things, but lived very modest conservative life. This was about the same year we got a new car. Dad drove the same car for over ten years until there was nothing left. He bought a brand new 1955 royal blue Chrysler. He was a great planner and strategically thought through all purchases. During this car buy Desoto had a tri-color car he was evaluating at the same time. You could choose white, black and turquoise and order the color in a variety of placements on the car. He fretted so much over this color scheme deal that finally he picked this pretty blue Chrysler. Best he made the selection he did as the Desoto color scheme cars got dated real quickly. He could have waited until 1958 and bought an Edsel as the Goldsmith’s (who lived up the road from us) did, which also would have gone out of favor quickly.
He liked to tinker with things. I could tell if he was content and happy as he would whistle a little tune as he worked. His hobby was movie pictures and he was known as the guy who always took pictures during family parties, church picnics and trips to the mountains. He would splice the reels together and show then when family visited. He would run them forward and got a kick out of reversing the projector or speeding up the action. It was always a great laugh.
We had most everything we needed and some of what we wanted when we grew up. He made a nice life for us filled with family values, strong religious connection and a passion to give to others. He was a 4-H leader for over 25 years and coached the kids about crops, showing animals and their baseball team. He gave me my heart’s desire at ten in a black horse named Queenie and all the outdoor tom boy time a girl could ask for. He made sure we all went to college and took an active interest in each of his kid’s families as we moved away to start our own lives.
It’s nice to think about him today.
1-10-2007 Harold Swanson 11/1/1913 - 1/10/1988
Harold Swanson
Frank - Hanna Swanson Family - 1900 Loveland
Anna and Carl Swanson - 1912 Wedding
Anna, Harold, Clarence (Swede) and Carl Swanson - 1917
Harold and Clarence Swanson and with cousins Leonard, Leroy and Russ Johnson
at Frank Swanson's home in Greeley
Harold and Clarence playing with cousins Russ, Lenoard, and Leroy Johnson- 1922
1938 - Swanson Farm -
Built by Frank 1901, then inherited by Ben and finally bought by Harold Swanson
Harold and Frances Swanson - 3/7/1935
Swanson Farm in 1985
Aunt Shirley Gibson Wayman (before she was married) Harold Swanson with Nancy and Alan. Shirley liked to go to the mountains for a ride with the rest of the family
Harold and Frances Swanson - 50th Anniversary 1985
John Kropewnicki and his Grandpa Harold Swanson
Today is my Dad, Harold Swanson’s, death day. I want to remember him.
He led an interesting life. He was the first son of a Swedish family that had settled in Colorado. His mom, Anna Swanson emigrated here at age 16 from Sweden. His father, Carl Swanson’s father Frank O Swanson has also immigrated from Sweden to America as a young boy. It was interesting to check the Ellis Island web site and find their names on the manifests. It must have taken a lot of courage to leave their home land and venture to a new world to make a life.
Frank and his family settled in a farm between Greeley and Loveland before they bought almost a couple hundred acres a farm northeast of Greeley. Anna and Carl settled a mile from Frank to raise their family. It was a tight Swedish community that worked, socialized and went to church together. Harold spoke Swedish as a young child, but as soon as he entered school he was told by his parents that he would learn and use English. When I grew up we used very little Swedish; only for prayers before meals and a few words I heard from time to time from my Grandma Anna.
Harold went to College High in Greeley and was really good at basketball. He was a handsome man and was lucky to meet my Mom, Frances. Harold’s brother Swede was dating Ruth Johnson who had a locker next to my Mom at Greeley high school. Ruth invited Frances to a church get-together and there she met my dad. It must have been challenging for Frances to integrate into this tight Swedish community as she was Irish/English and had a much different background.
They married in 1935 and lived happily ever after with the normal bumps in the roads couples encounter from time to time. My mom looked gorgeous in her gown on her wedding day with a great cascade of flowers flowing from her arms. She had barrowed a veil from a friend and during the reception the gossamer fabric caught fire from one of the candles on the table. It was quickly extinguished, but certainly started off the marriage with passion.
My mom showed perseverance and was happy to follow the rules set by Frank, Carl, Anna and Harold. Harold and Frances started out in a small house in the yard where Anna and Carl lived and then moved to rent the farm we called Tipton’s, after the owner’s name.
When Harold first started farming he and Carl used horses. It must have been a hard job to harness up the horses, work the fields all day and then care for the horses at the end of the day before he could come to the house for supper. I don’t remember horses being used in the fields, but do remember the harnesses and other gear that hung in the old barns on the walls. Tractors were used as there were always a lot of machinery lined up in the yard and the sheds. In those days the farmers weren’t so specialized and Harold grew all kinds of crops such as corn, beans, potatoes, barley, alfalfa and sugar beets. Each crop required different machinery. Harold also managed a herd of Holstein dairy cows he milked twice a day at 4 am and 4 pm. The cows eagerly lined up at the milk barn door to be milked first by hand and later years with high tech milking machines.
I grew up at Tipton’s until I was about 11. There was a pit toilet in the yard, but we had an inside bathroom that must have been added before I was born. My mom took care of the house, raised chickens and fed the baby calves. There was always something going on. There was a big tree trunk about three feet tall by three feet wide in the yard by the chicken coop. This was used to cut off the chicken’s heads when it was time to butcher. There was a great vat of hot water that they used to pick off all the feathers. I’m sure my sister Nancy remembers more of that work than I do.
All farm crops and milk were sold to local co-ops or produce companies. The family lived on the eggs, meat from chickens and an occasional steer. Dad was always very generous and took care to tithe his pay and his crops. He would often drop off sacks of potatoes to his brother’s family, the preacher and other friends/relatives.
He had a great work shop stacked with cubby holes filled with all kinds of parts to fix tractors and machinery. He was a Case man and always bought that brand of tractor. In the winter months he would go to town and stop by the Case implement shop. I would tag along and knew he enjoyed visiting with other farmers and the shop’s owner, Tom Faye.
In about 1957 when I was 11 we moved around the corner to the farm that Frank had owned and subsequently parceled out and passed on to his children. Dad and Mom bought 80 acres from our Uncle Ben Swanson. It had a great barn and a big old two story house. Dad wanted to make it great for Mom, so this was one of the few times I saw him take an interest in the inside of a house. His domain was the farm, yard, machinery and cows. This time he hired out a remodel to put up new wall paper in all the bedrooms, open up the parlor and the dinning room into one great room and buy some new living room furniture from Rucker’s. There was always a piano in the house and this time it was in by the front door. He loved music and my sister became an accomplished pianist. He would often ask her to play when we had guests. She had already married her husband Bob by the time we moved to this home.
If you looked back on crop prices, this must have been a good year. We had things, but lived very modest conservative life. This was about the same year we got a new car. Dad drove the same car for over ten years until there was nothing left. He bought a brand new 1955 royal blue Chrysler. He was a great planner and strategically thought through all purchases. During this car buy Desoto had a tri-color car he was evaluating at the same time. You could choose white, black and turquoise and order the color in a variety of placements on the car. He fretted so much over this color scheme deal that finally he picked this pretty blue Chrysler. Best he made the selection he did as the Desoto color scheme cars got dated real quickly. He could have waited until 1958 and bought an Edsel as the Goldsmith’s (who lived up the road from us) did, which also would have gone out of favor quickly.
He liked to tinker with things. I could tell if he was content and happy as he would whistle a little tune as he worked. His hobby was movie pictures and he was known as the guy who always took pictures during family parties, church picnics and trips to the mountains. He would splice the reels together and show then when family visited. He would run them forward and got a kick out of reversing the projector or speeding up the action. It was always a great laugh.
We had most everything we needed and some of what we wanted when we grew up. He made a nice life for us filled with family values, strong religious connection and a passion to give to others. He was a 4-H leader for over 25 years and coached the kids about crops, showing animals and their baseball team. He gave me my heart’s desire at ten in a black horse named Queenie and all the outdoor tom boy time a girl could ask for. He made sure we all went to college and took an active interest in each of his kid’s families as we moved away to start our own lives.
It’s nice to think about him today.
Frank - Hanna Swanson Family - 1900 Loveland
Anna and Carl Swanson - 1912 Wedding
Anna, Harold, Clarence (Swede) and Carl Swanson - 1917
Harold and Clarence Swanson and with cousins Leonard, Leroy and Russ Johnson
at Frank Swanson's home in Greeley
Harold and Clarence playing with cousins Russ, Lenoard, and Leroy Johnson- 1922
1938 - Swanson Farm -
Built by Frank 1901, then inherited by Ben and finally bought by Harold Swanson
Harold and Frances Swanson - 3/7/1935
Swanson Farm in 1985
Aunt Shirley Gibson Wayman (before she was married) Harold Swanson with Nancy and Alan. Shirley liked to go to the mountains for a ride with the rest of the family
Harold and Frances Swanson - 50th Anniversary 1985
John Kropewnicki and his Grandpa Harold Swanson
Today is my Dad, Harold Swanson’s, death day. I want to remember him.
He led an interesting life. He was the first son of a Swedish family that had settled in Colorado. His mom, Anna Swanson emigrated here at age 16 from Sweden. His father, Carl Swanson’s father Frank O Swanson has also immigrated from Sweden to America as a young boy. It was interesting to check the Ellis Island web site and find their names on the manifests. It must have taken a lot of courage to leave their home land and venture to a new world to make a life.
Frank and his family settled in a farm between Greeley and Loveland before they bought almost a couple hundred acres a farm northeast of Greeley. Anna and Carl settled a mile from Frank to raise their family. It was a tight Swedish community that worked, socialized and went to church together. Harold spoke Swedish as a young child, but as soon as he entered school he was told by his parents that he would learn and use English. When I grew up we used very little Swedish; only for prayers before meals and a few words I heard from time to time from my Grandma Anna.
Harold went to College High in Greeley and was really good at basketball. He was a handsome man and was lucky to meet my Mom, Frances. Harold’s brother Swede was dating Ruth Johnson who had a locker next to my Mom at Greeley high school. Ruth invited Frances to a church get-together and there she met my dad. It must have been challenging for Frances to integrate into this tight Swedish community as she was Irish/English and had a much different background.
They married in 1935 and lived happily ever after with the normal bumps in the roads couples encounter from time to time. My mom looked gorgeous in her gown on her wedding day with a great cascade of flowers flowing from her arms. She had barrowed a veil from a friend and during the reception the gossamer fabric caught fire from one of the candles on the table. It was quickly extinguished, but certainly started off the marriage with passion.
My mom showed perseverance and was happy to follow the rules set by Frank, Carl, Anna and Harold. Harold and Frances started out in a small house in the yard where Anna and Carl lived and then moved to rent the farm we called Tipton’s, after the owner’s name.
When Harold first started farming he and Carl used horses. It must have been a hard job to harness up the horses, work the fields all day and then care for the horses at the end of the day before he could come to the house for supper. I don’t remember horses being used in the fields, but do remember the harnesses and other gear that hung in the old barns on the walls. Tractors were used as there were always a lot of machinery lined up in the yard and the sheds. In those days the farmers weren’t so specialized and Harold grew all kinds of crops such as corn, beans, potatoes, barley, alfalfa and sugar beets. Each crop required different machinery. Harold also managed a herd of Holstein dairy cows he milked twice a day at 4 am and 4 pm. The cows eagerly lined up at the milk barn door to be milked first by hand and later years with high tech milking machines.
I grew up at Tipton’s until I was about 11. There was a pit toilet in the yard, but we had an inside bathroom that must have been added before I was born. My mom took care of the house, raised chickens and fed the baby calves. There was always something going on. There was a big tree trunk about three feet tall by three feet wide in the yard by the chicken coop. This was used to cut off the chicken’s heads when it was time to butcher. There was a great vat of hot water that they used to pick off all the feathers. I’m sure my sister Nancy remembers more of that work than I do.
All farm crops and milk were sold to local co-ops or produce companies. The family lived on the eggs, meat from chickens and an occasional steer. Dad was always very generous and took care to tithe his pay and his crops. He would often drop off sacks of potatoes to his brother’s family, the preacher and other friends/relatives.
He had a great work shop stacked with cubby holes filled with all kinds of parts to fix tractors and machinery. He was a Case man and always bought that brand of tractor. In the winter months he would go to town and stop by the Case implement shop. I would tag along and knew he enjoyed visiting with other farmers and the shop’s owner, Tom Faye.
In about 1957 when I was 11 we moved around the corner to the farm that Frank had owned and subsequently parceled out and passed on to his children. Dad and Mom bought 80 acres from our Uncle Ben Swanson. It had a great barn and a big old two story house. Dad wanted to make it great for Mom, so this was one of the few times I saw him take an interest in the inside of a house. His domain was the farm, yard, machinery and cows. This time he hired out a remodel to put up new wall paper in all the bedrooms, open up the parlor and the dinning room into one great room and buy some new living room furniture from Rucker’s. There was always a piano in the house and this time it was in by the front door. He loved music and my sister became an accomplished pianist. He would often ask her to play when we had guests. She had already married her husband Bob by the time we moved to this home.
If you looked back on crop prices, this must have been a good year. We had things, but lived very modest conservative life. This was about the same year we got a new car. Dad drove the same car for over ten years until there was nothing left. He bought a brand new 1955 royal blue Chrysler. He was a great planner and strategically thought through all purchases. During this car buy Desoto had a tri-color car he was evaluating at the same time. You could choose white, black and turquoise and order the color in a variety of placements on the car. He fretted so much over this color scheme deal that finally he picked this pretty blue Chrysler. Best he made the selection he did as the Desoto color scheme cars got dated real quickly. He could have waited until 1958 and bought an Edsel as the Goldsmith’s (who lived up the road from us) did, which also would have gone out of favor quickly.
He liked to tinker with things. I could tell if he was content and happy as he would whistle a little tune as he worked. His hobby was movie pictures and he was known as the guy who always took pictures during family parties, church picnics and trips to the mountains. He would splice the reels together and show then when family visited. He would run them forward and got a kick out of reversing the projector or speeding up the action. It was always a great laugh.
We had most everything we needed and some of what we wanted when we grew up. He made a nice life for us filled with family values, strong religious connection and a passion to give to others. He was a 4-H leader for over 25 years and coached the kids about crops, showing animals and their baseball team. He gave me my heart’s desire at ten in a black horse named Queenie and all the outdoor tom boy time a girl could ask for. He made sure we all went to college and took an active interest in each of his kid’s families as we moved away to start our own lives.
It’s nice to think about him today.
1-9-2007 Frances Swanson 5/20/1913 - 1/9/2004
Frances Swanson and daughter Joyce Kropewnicki
Gibson sisters
Mildred Morris, Frances Swanson, Shirley, Wayman, Gerry Grossaint
(Audrey Travis not pictured)
Harold and Frances Swanson - 35th Anniversary 1970
Frances with 1963 Chrysler
Frances Swanson - Age about 10 1923
Frances Swanson - High School
Nancy Kihlthau Alan Swanson Joyce Kropewnicki
Frances and Harold Swanson
50th Anniversary 1985
529 5th Street - Home where Frances grew up
Gibson Family
Audrey Harry Gerry Mildred
Vern Frances Daryl Shirley
Edith and Joe Gibson
Joyce and Alan singing hymms with
Frances at Allyson Nursing Center
90th Birthday - 5-20-2003
Frances Swanson at the Meridian retirement community 2002
Country home in Greeley at 21873 Weld County Rd 64
I hope to always remember my Mom's death day, January 9th, 2004. She was such a special person to many people. I read an email that talked about the dash between the dates a person lived with a reminder that the dash is what gives meaning to the life they led between the time they were born and when they died.
Frances surely touched many people who knew her. She gave willingly of herself so others could succeed and find happiness. She gave her time to teach young girls to sew in 4-H club as well as sewing many clothes for her daughter's Nancy and Joyce. She made my wedding dress without a thought as to the importance of the day or the gown. She made a wedding gown for Marlyss Johnson trimmed with beads hand sewn with care.
She wanted her children to be educated and encouraged each one of us to go to college and/or complete a degree not knowing full well when a difference it would make in our lives, but knowing that we needed one.
She was a good friend to her sister's and many of the women in her local club. They shared time and ideas together building comradely that lasted for decades. She always wanted to do the very best and mentioned that she was concerned her sewing stitches were not spaced evenly enough when she worked with the quilt ladies in the basement of the Presbyterian church. Those stitches were always perfect.
She gave time and energy to her family. Her husband Harold often was demanding and Frances was right there to help with whatever he needed. She helped with her mother-in-law Anna Swanson in her later years and always planned to make extra food so Anna would have a warm meal each day.
She was a good listener and always had time to hear whatever you had to say. She was missed in her later years when she had Alzheimer's and couldn't quite remember the interesting things she did or experiences we had together. She is missed and remember especially today.
Gibson sisters
Mildred Morris, Frances Swanson, Shirley, Wayman, Gerry Grossaint
(Audrey Travis not pictured)
Harold and Frances Swanson - 35th Anniversary 1970
Frances with 1963 Chrysler
Frances Swanson - Age about 10 1923
Frances Swanson - High School
Nancy Kihlthau Alan Swanson Joyce Kropewnicki
Frances and Harold Swanson
50th Anniversary 1985
529 5th Street - Home where Frances grew up
Gibson Family
Audrey Harry Gerry Mildred
Vern Frances Daryl Shirley
Edith and Joe Gibson
Joyce and Alan singing hymms with
Frances at Allyson Nursing Center
90th Birthday - 5-20-2003
Frances Swanson at the Meridian retirement community 2002
Country home in Greeley at 21873 Weld County Rd 64
I hope to always remember my Mom's death day, January 9th, 2004. She was such a special person to many people. I read an email that talked about the dash between the dates a person lived with a reminder that the dash is what gives meaning to the life they led between the time they were born and when they died.
Frances surely touched many people who knew her. She gave willingly of herself so others could succeed and find happiness. She gave her time to teach young girls to sew in 4-H club as well as sewing many clothes for her daughter's Nancy and Joyce. She made my wedding dress without a thought as to the importance of the day or the gown. She made a wedding gown for Marlyss Johnson trimmed with beads hand sewn with care.
She wanted her children to be educated and encouraged each one of us to go to college and/or complete a degree not knowing full well when a difference it would make in our lives, but knowing that we needed one.
She was a good friend to her sister's and many of the women in her local club. They shared time and ideas together building comradely that lasted for decades. She always wanted to do the very best and mentioned that she was concerned her sewing stitches were not spaced evenly enough when she worked with the quilt ladies in the basement of the Presbyterian church. Those stitches were always perfect.
She gave time and energy to her family. Her husband Harold often was demanding and Frances was right there to help with whatever he needed. She helped with her mother-in-law Anna Swanson in her later years and always planned to make extra food so Anna would have a warm meal each day.
She was a good listener and always had time to hear whatever you had to say. She was missed in her later years when she had Alzheimer's and couldn't quite remember the interesting things she did or experiences we had together. She is missed and remember especially today.
January 5, 2007 Another Snow Day in Denver
This is the third week in a row it has snowed a lot at least once a week. The weather man carefully predicted another morning of a quick moving storm that would dump 5 – 8 inches of snow then move out of the area by noon or so.
Sure enough when I opened the door to walk to the bus there was about four or five inches of new fallen snow. I had wrapped my scarf inside my coat, zipped up and put on the little used hood. As I walked the short distance to the bus stop the snow pic-pic-picked at my hood like a wood pecker finding a place to roost. At five in the morning the neighborhood is so quiet only the sound of falling snow can be heard.
I found my spot in the street to wait as there was still three foot mounds of plowed ice and snow piled by the stop. I situated myself in the direction so that the wind would blow to my back instead of my face.
It reminded me of a snowy blizzardy day when I was a little girl about 6. I walked a little over half a mile to and from the four room red brick school house that held grades 1 through eight. It was one of the worst storms ever and I was walking hunched over trying to make it back to our home. We had probably been let out of school early and my parents didn't know I was walking. No cell phone in those days. This was a deserted dirt road miles from the town of Greeley with only a few farm houses every quarter mile. In those days there were no high tech coats, boots or gloves. As I recall, little girls wore dresses to school every day. I probably had a thin wool coat some hand knit mittens and a scarf or hat. That was about it.
As I was challenged by the elements, a rickety pick-up truck drove up beside me. An old guy opened his passenger side door and said, "Git in I’ll take you home." Boy I didn’t know this guy from the man in the moon. He kept insisting and I kept to my position that was drilled into me to not take rides or talk to strangers. He drove off disappearing quickly into the storm. I made it home through the same perseverance that has followed me my whole life. I’m sure hot cocoa was waiting for me along with some dry clothes.
The next day after school, my Dad mentioned that encounter with the guy in the pick-up to me. He asked why I hadn’t taken a ride home with the neighbor, who he knew very well. I explained I didn't know him and reminded my Dad of the rules about strangers.
My brother Alan remembers a bad Colorado blizzard in 1949 when I was about three. He said the drifts were so high that the cows were able to walk over the six foot fence. He an my Dad had to shovel the snow by the fence to keep the cows in the corral. No wonder he lives in sunny California now.
Back to today. The sidewalks in downtown are just starting to be cleared off by the early maintenance crews. People are bundled with extra long scarves wrapped a couple times around their necks. They have hats and hoods for double protection along with boots of all sorts. This morning Colorado is looking like we live in Alaska. I’m sure the sun will be out tomorrow.
Sure enough when I opened the door to walk to the bus there was about four or five inches of new fallen snow. I had wrapped my scarf inside my coat, zipped up and put on the little used hood. As I walked the short distance to the bus stop the snow pic-pic-picked at my hood like a wood pecker finding a place to roost. At five in the morning the neighborhood is so quiet only the sound of falling snow can be heard.
I found my spot in the street to wait as there was still three foot mounds of plowed ice and snow piled by the stop. I situated myself in the direction so that the wind would blow to my back instead of my face.
It reminded me of a snowy blizzardy day when I was a little girl about 6. I walked a little over half a mile to and from the four room red brick school house that held grades 1 through eight. It was one of the worst storms ever and I was walking hunched over trying to make it back to our home. We had probably been let out of school early and my parents didn't know I was walking. No cell phone in those days. This was a deserted dirt road miles from the town of Greeley with only a few farm houses every quarter mile. In those days there were no high tech coats, boots or gloves. As I recall, little girls wore dresses to school every day. I probably had a thin wool coat some hand knit mittens and a scarf or hat. That was about it.
As I was challenged by the elements, a rickety pick-up truck drove up beside me. An old guy opened his passenger side door and said, "Git in I’ll take you home." Boy I didn’t know this guy from the man in the moon. He kept insisting and I kept to my position that was drilled into me to not take rides or talk to strangers. He drove off disappearing quickly into the storm. I made it home through the same perseverance that has followed me my whole life. I’m sure hot cocoa was waiting for me along with some dry clothes.
The next day after school, my Dad mentioned that encounter with the guy in the pick-up to me. He asked why I hadn’t taken a ride home with the neighbor, who he knew very well. I explained I didn't know him and reminded my Dad of the rules about strangers.
My brother Alan remembers a bad Colorado blizzard in 1949 when I was about three. He said the drifts were so high that the cows were able to walk over the six foot fence. He an my Dad had to shovel the snow by the fence to keep the cows in the corral. No wonder he lives in sunny California now.
Back to today. The sidewalks in downtown are just starting to be cleared off by the early maintenance crews. People are bundled with extra long scarves wrapped a couple times around their necks. They have hats and hoods for double protection along with boots of all sorts. This morning Colorado is looking like we live in Alaska. I’m sure the sun will be out tomorrow.
Christmas 2006
Stan, Joyce (Jack our dog) and Jamie Christmas Eve dinner
Christmas Dinner 2006
John Snow Blowing
Snow at the Apartment 12th Ave & Zephyr Lakewood
Stan and John playing tennis
Jamie Swanson
24 inches of new fallen snow
St Joseph's Polish Church in Denver
We had a nice Christmas between snow storms. John came late Christmas day and joined us for the second Christmas dinner of his day. He had spent time with Rachel's brother, mother and sister earlier in Boston before he caught a plane out to Colorado.
Jamie, Stan and I had a quiet Christmas eve dinner of a stuffed rolled up fillet of fish with egg sauce. John had asked for the same recipe that we had eaten for many years and had served it on for his Christmas eve dinner he and Rachel hosted for her dad, his friend Deb and Rachel's mom and sister. That was nice that they could start the Christmas eve dinner tradition.
For years when I was a child, we gathered at my grandma and grandpa's home for Christmas eve dinner. There were all kinds of Swedish delights and some not so delightful. Potato sausage was always a hit, but I never did understand the pickled herring or lutefisk. All the Christmas cookies that Anna had made over the month before Christmas were stacked on tiered cookie plates. It must be that fresh butter and whole milk that made things so yummy.
As a child we were awaken early on Christmas morning to go to church to Ulota at 4 am. Not sure why this early hour was necessary, but I don't remember missing many of these early Christmas morning services. At Christmas time there is always a melding of traditions for us. On Christmas day Stan and I went to St. Joseph's Polish church in Globeville to an all Polish service. This church is located about where I25 and I70 cross. It was like I was on vacation in Poland. Not one word was spoken in English. The words of the songs and responses were on a large screen in front of the church. It is interesting to hear the words and see them at the same time. It sure makes it easier to hear the patterns of language. Stan was so touched hearing these traditional Polish Christmas carols sung in Polish. It brought him right back to his childhood and special memories during the Christmas season.
We enjoyed our time together, but with so much snow shoveling and roads closed, cabin fever sets in easily. We always had plenty of food to eat although shopping at grocery stores was a challenge. The dairy, fruits, vegetables and meat aisles were stripped down due to distribution delays from the snow storms.
John and I worked on a puzzle and finished it in a few hours. John brought his new Nintendo Wii and we all played tennis, golf and baseball in the living room as if we were in the sports field. We watched movies and shoveled, shoveled, shoveled our driveway, apartment and Jamie's place. It sure was a different holiday.
Christmas Dinner 2006
John Snow Blowing
Snow at the Apartment 12th Ave & Zephyr Lakewood
Stan and John playing tennis
Jamie Swanson
24 inches of new fallen snow
St Joseph's Polish Church in Denver
We had a nice Christmas between snow storms. John came late Christmas day and joined us for the second Christmas dinner of his day. He had spent time with Rachel's brother, mother and sister earlier in Boston before he caught a plane out to Colorado.
Jamie, Stan and I had a quiet Christmas eve dinner of a stuffed rolled up fillet of fish with egg sauce. John had asked for the same recipe that we had eaten for many years and had served it on for his Christmas eve dinner he and Rachel hosted for her dad, his friend Deb and Rachel's mom and sister. That was nice that they could start the Christmas eve dinner tradition.
For years when I was a child, we gathered at my grandma and grandpa's home for Christmas eve dinner. There were all kinds of Swedish delights and some not so delightful. Potato sausage was always a hit, but I never did understand the pickled herring or lutefisk. All the Christmas cookies that Anna had made over the month before Christmas were stacked on tiered cookie plates. It must be that fresh butter and whole milk that made things so yummy.
As a child we were awaken early on Christmas morning to go to church to Ulota at 4 am. Not sure why this early hour was necessary, but I don't remember missing many of these early Christmas morning services. At Christmas time there is always a melding of traditions for us. On Christmas day Stan and I went to St. Joseph's Polish church in Globeville to an all Polish service. This church is located about where I25 and I70 cross. It was like I was on vacation in Poland. Not one word was spoken in English. The words of the songs and responses were on a large screen in front of the church. It is interesting to hear the words and see them at the same time. It sure makes it easier to hear the patterns of language. Stan was so touched hearing these traditional Polish Christmas carols sung in Polish. It brought him right back to his childhood and special memories during the Christmas season.
We enjoyed our time together, but with so much snow shoveling and roads closed, cabin fever sets in easily. We always had plenty of food to eat although shopping at grocery stores was a challenge. The dairy, fruits, vegetables and meat aisles were stripped down due to distribution delays from the snow storms.
John and I worked on a puzzle and finished it in a few hours. John brought his new Nintendo Wii and we all played tennis, golf and baseball in the living room as if we were in the sports field. We watched movies and shoveled, shoveled, shoveled our driveway, apartment and Jamie's place. It sure was a different holiday.
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