A misstatement in an article featured in the Minneapolis Svenska Amerikanska Posten newspaper led to Ingvar and Anna Lindgren’s decision to come to the Oklahoma Territory to stake a claim.
The Minnesota journalist who wrote the piece had translated it from a story in a three-month old copy of the Wichita Eagle. It told of the Run into the Cherokee Strip, emphasizing the realization of the homesteaders’ dreams for free farms in that area. The Wichita reporter left out many of the finer details since his readers were familiar with the circumstances surrounding the event. This led to the Swedish-American writer being unaware of a few of the more important points of the real situation, such as the very critical intelligence that the Run ended the same day it started. He also failed to mention that all the available claims had been staked out for ownership. In truth the only acreage available now was for sale.
Ingvar Lindgren and Anna Erickson became acquainted during an unpleasant time in his life. He was laboring on the farm of his miserly Uncle Olaf to pay the old man back for his passage to America. Anna’s parents lived nearby on their own place, and she worked in Minneapolis as a housemaid for a wealthy family. The couple met during one of the young woman’s monthly visits to her parents’ farm. The two families regularly attended church together, and Ingvar and Anna were instantly attracted to each other on that memorable Sunday when they were introduced.
Their mutual affection was of a romantic and sentimental nature, yet had a practical side to it as well. Ingvar was a strong capable young fellow who had proven his worth, and Anna was a sturdy Scandinavian maiden capable of hard physical work. Additionally, she had wide hips that guaranteed many easy births. Within a short time, Ingvar expressed his affection to Anna, and she revealed her own fondness for him. Since both families approved of the relationship, the couple’s engagement was announced less than a year later.
When Ingvar’s debt to Uncle Olaf was settled, the two young people were married by old Reverend Stromberg in the local Swedish Lutheran Church. They moved to the Twin Cities where Anna became a housewife, and Ingvar found work as a janitor in a Saint Paul high school.
Ingvar and Anna had been married a bit more than a year and a half when they read the article about the land rush. They were a frugal couple, saving all the money they could from Ingvar’s meager salary. The available free land in the Oklahoma Territory seemed the proverbial golden opportunity for them since they would never have enough money to purchase any property of their own. The young couple wasted no time in preparing for the journey to a place where they thought they could get a farm just for the asking. Their finances were such that after paying for the train tickets, they would have just enough money left over to purchase a few incidentals; such as seed, a mule, and a plow. The couple figured this would be affordable since the land they sought would cost nothing.
After arriving in Medicine Bundle they went straight to the land office only to find no property existed for settlement. If they wanted their own farm, they would have to purchase it just as they would in Minnesota. Ingvar and Anna were stunned at the reality of the situation, and didn’t want to return to Saint Paul to begin all over again.
Instead of staking a claim, Ingvar ended up being a hired man once more. Most of the money they planned to use to begin farming was spent on the costs of establishing themselves in the new town, and the rest went into a small savings account. Another disappointment they endured was remaining childless. They consoled themselves by considering it just as well since their earnings wouldn’t accommodate a large family at that time anyway.
Ingvar and Anna lived in a cheap tiny house near the railroad depot that was but a step above a shack. Ingvar eked out a living between working on farms and occasional odd jobs in town but Anna was unable to find a position as a maid. The Swedish couple’s hard luck came to an end when they met the McCrackens and Hollings. Ingvar found employment between the two farms and Anna began working in both houses helping out Fionna and Rebecca. After Rebecca gave birth to a daughter who was christened Morag, Anna worked in the Grant home almost exclusively, taking care of the baby and Sammy while continuing with her housekeeping chores.
The Swedish couple eventually discovered that the whole world did not freeze over from October to May as in Scandinavia or the upper Midwest. The Territory’s spring started in early March and it did not get very cold until December. Even when it snowed, the ground did not stay covered long after the temperatures eased back up above freezing.
~*~
The Thanksgiving Holiday had been made official by President Abraham Lincoln in 1863, but the McCrackens had never celebrated it. But after their good luck in the Run and with the farms, Luther and Fionna decided it was time they began including the feast and prayers in their family life. They were indeed thankful to their God for the way their lives had improved.
On November 27, 1890, the McCrackens asked Ingvar and Anna to join Grant and Rebecca in their home to celebrate the holiday. The dinner was traditional with a small addition by Anna who baked some special Swedish cookies to add to the desert. Neither the McCrackens nor the Hollings realized the sacrifice the Swedes had made in the purchase of sugar, flour, and butter for their contribution.
Rebecca brought her kitchen table and chairs to be added to those of Fionna’s so there would be enough room for everyone to sit. The two tables were put together in the McCracken parlor for the meal. Sammy was placed in a high chair for his share of the eats. Morag, still nursing at Rebecca’s breast, slept the afternoon away in a crib upstairs.
The celebration was pleasant with good food and conversation as everyone stuffed themselves in the tradition of the annual feast. When all the turkey, the home-canned vegetables, and the last speck of pumpkin pie were consumed, the women launched into the clean-up tasks.
The men contributed to the chore by staying out of the way. They settled on the sofa and chairs arranged around the walls of the parlor. Luther, comfortably established in his favorite chair, lit his pipe. He glanced over at Ingvar sitting on the sofa beside Grant. “Well,” Luther said, exhaling smoke, “how goes it Ingvar?”
“Oh, ve’re getting along,” Ingvar replied. “Ve even save some money now and den. Someday me and Anna is gonna have our own farm. It vill take time, but ve do it, ja.”
Grant spoke in a serious tone. “Luther and I have a business proposition for you, Ingvar. It will give you a chance to learn a bit more about farming here in the Oklahoma Territory while you’re waiting to get your own place.”
Ingvar, about to light his pipe, sat with the yet unstruck match in his hand. He sensed something special was about to happen. “Ja?”
“That’s right,” Luther said. “You’re a good man, Ingvar. We need someone we can depend on.”
“I’m looking for a good yob,” Ingvar said hopefully. “I vould like much to hear vot you are gonna say to me.”
Grant asked, “How would you and Anna like to move onto my farm and live in the house?”
Ingvar wasn’t sure that was a good idea. He tried to be diplomatic as he carefully replied, “Maybe it vill be crowded vit’ all the people and your two children. Den me and Anna might have a baby too. Prob’ly lots of babies.”
“No, no,” Grant said, shaking his head. “Rebecca and I are moving out. You and Anna will live there by yourselves.”
“You move out?” Ingvar asked. “Vhere do you go, Mr. Hollings?”
“We’re moving into town,” Grant said. “We want you to run the farm just like it was your own. We’ll take seventy-five percent of the profits. You keep twenty-five percent and you also have a free place to live. Of course we’ll take care of all expenses.”
“You’ll be living perty cheap,” Luther added. “That means you can save a good deal of money a lot quicker’n you could now.”
“That’s a step closer to having your own farm,” Grant added.
Ingvar forgot about smoking his pipe. He stuck it in his pocket. “I like dat, Mr. Hollings. Vill I vork da farm vit’ Mr. McCracken like you do?”
“The same exact manner,” Grant said. “Of course we will release you at any time. Such as on that special day when you can buy your own place. But in the meantime you should do quite well on my farm.”
“Oh, ja!” Ingvar agreed, then he frowned in puzzlement. “Are you not the farmer no more, Mr. Hollings?”
Grant shook his head. “I’ve accepted a commission as deputy United States marshal. I’ll be serving under Marshal Sinclair in the Medicine Bundle office.”
“Oh, you are a policeman den, Mr. Hollings?” Ingvar asked. “I bet dat is good pay.”
“Not so good,” Grant admitted. “But with the money we’ve already saved along with what we’ll get while you’re working the farm, we’ll do just fine. We’ve already bought a house in town. A very nice two-story frame with a fence around the yard.”
“You and Anna talk this over then let us know,” Luther said. “They ain’t no rush.”
“Can we go to da farm anytime?” Ingvar asked.
“Sure,” Grant replied. “We’re moving out tomorrow. By next Monday we’ll be in our new house. I have to report for duty that same day.”
“Vait!” Ingvar said, jumping up. “I talk to Anna right now. I take her outside.”
Luther and Grant followed him back to the kitchen where he grabbed Anna and pulled her toward the door. “Ingvar!” she cried out. “Var går vi?”
“Utsida!” he said tugging at her. “Kamm!”
Rebecca looked at Grant. “You must have made the offer.”
“Yeah,” Grant said. “Let’s hope Anna will agree to it.”
Rebecca walked over to the window and looked out. “Anna is crying.”
Luther shrugged. “Well, I guess if she don’t like the idee, that’s the end of that.”
“We’ll have to find somebody else,” Grant said.
“O’course she likes it!” Rebecca exclaimed. “She’s crying ’cause she’s so happy.”
“That don’t make a lick of sense,” Luther said.
“Men!” Fionna said going back to scrubbing a pan. “You couldn’t figger out what a woman is thinking even if she wrote it down for you.”
When Ingvar and Anna came back into the kitchen, she was wiping her eyes. Ingvar nodded enthusiastically. “Ja! Ve are gonna do it.”
“I am so happy!” Anna said.
Rebecca looked at her husband and father. “See?”
“Dere is somet’ing else,” Ingvar said with a grin. “I didn’t know about it ‘til right now.” He looked at Anna. “Go on and tell dem.”
“You tell dem!”
“All right,” he said, turning his glance back to the others. “Anna tells me she is gonna have a baby.”
“Sweet Lord!” Fionna cried. “When?”
“In da spring, I t’ink,” Anna answered.
“You go see Mary Matthews,” Fionna said. “She’s a wonderful midwife.”
“Ja!” Ingvar said. “Ve can pay now dat ve make money on da farm.”
“Well,” Grant said, “as of Saturday morning, the place is yours.”
“Ve move in right avay kvick,” Anna said. “Such a nice house!”
“Take my wagon back to town with you this evening,” Luther said. “You can use it to carry your stuff out to the farm.”
“I pay you for dat out of da first crop,” Ingvar said.
“You don’t have to pay for the wagon,” Luther said.
“Sure! I pay!” Ingvar insisted.
“Listen, Ingvar,” Grant said. “I already told you we pay for everything in a deal like this. The seed, repairs, tools, or whatever is needed. That includes furnishing you a wagon and mule to move your stuff out here. You’re going to need them for the farm anyway.”
“Oh,” Ingvar said. “Dat’s fine den.” He looked at Grant. “I help you move.”
“I would appreciate that very much,” Grant said. “In that case you and Anna stay with us tonight. Tomorrow morning we can move our things into town. Then, instead of using Luther’s wagon, you can use ours to take your belongings out to the farm. Then it can stay there.”
“This is getting confusing,” Fionna said. “I hope ever’one understands what we’re gonna do.”
“Sure,” Ingvar said. “Me and Anna sleep at Mr. and Mrs. Hollings’ house. Tomorrow ve put deir stuff in da vagon and go to deir new house.”
“Da new house in town,” Anna added.
“Ja,” Ingvar said. “Den ve take da stuff off da vagon and put it in da new house.”
Anna joined in again. “Den we go to our little house and get our t’ings. Ve take dem to da farm and dere ve live. Ja?”
Fionna laughed. “Ja! See? I just spoke in Swedish.”
Anna went to the cupboard and got her box of cookies. “Now ve celebrate vit’ dese.”
“And coffee,” Ingvar added. “Svedish cookies must be ate vit’ coffee.”
~*~
Luther and Fionna arrived early at Grant and Rebecca’s house — soon to be occupied by Ingvar and Anna — to lend a hand with the moving chores. Luther brought his own wagon to make sure only one trip would be necessary both to and from town.
Anna already considered the farmhouse hers. She bustled around the place straightening up and making decisions where to place her own meager belongings. Rebecca left a few minor pieces of furniture she wouldn’t need in the new house. Rather than consider them gifts, Ingvar and Anna looked on the items as part of the property they would be using but not owning.
It took most of an hour for the three men to move the heavier pieces of furniture onto the vehicles. When the last piece was put aboard and lashed down, they began the slow trek toward Medicine Bundle.
Grant and Rebecca’s house in town was not a new one. The home, a beautiful gingerbread Victorian with turrets, had been built by one of the town’s first bankers. Its ten rooms consisted of a large parlor, dining room, kitchen, den, sewing room, a small maid’s quarters, and four bedrooms upstairs. A wooden picket fence with an oversized gate led to a large front yard. A carriage house was set back flush to the alley, and a root cellar could be accessed around the back of the home.
The banker decided to sell the place after his own worth had increased considerably with the commercial growth of Medicine Bundle. He built a larger house in an area east of town where the richest of the local gentry had begun to establish their residences.
Part of the deal that Grant made included keeping the downstairs carpets. He’d had to pay extra for the floor coverings, but Rebecca had fallen in love with the thick, heavy rugs and could not bear having to put up with bare floors until suitable ones could be purchased later on.
She also had bric-a-brac and other odds and ends she had collected during her short career as an army wife. They seemed out of place in the farmhouse and had been kept securely wrapped and tucked away in boxes. Now the decorations, vases, a couple of lamps, and pictures would be used to dress up the parlor to her fancy. Her best silverware and set of dishes would also be given their proper places in the new home.
In less than an hour and a half, the Hollings’ possessions were off the wagon and in the house. Grant, Luther and Fionna stayed to help Rebecca put things away while Ingvar and Anna took Grant’s farm wagon to the small house to load their things on the vehicle. They were ashamed of their cheap belongings, and turned down offers of help. The McCrackens and Hollingses understood and diplomatically acquiesced to the Swedes’ polite refusal of assistance.
Grant and Rebecca, with help from her parents, went about settling in. Since the only things to move upstairs was one bedroom set and the children’s things, Grant and Luther quickly got the job done. From then on, it was up to the women to put things away and give orders as to the proper placement of furniture as the downstairs was organized.
Grant was given a list to take to the store for the night’s supper. When he returned, they fired up the large stove in the kitchen, and the entire family enjoyed their first meal in the new home.
“There’re still lots of things I need,” Rebecca observed.
Luther looked at Grant and winked. “For your sake, I hope your new salary can cover all that expense.”
“We deputies don’t have regular salaries,” Grant explained. “We get so much money per head for outlaws we arrest. Two dollars each, as a matter of fact.”
“Then you better grab a lot of ’em from the way Rebecca is talking,” Luther said.
Grant pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “I wrote down what I get paid. Let’s see. I’m allowed six cents a mile for travel and they give me seventy-five cents a day to feed my prisoners.”
“That seems like a lot to spend on an outlaw’s grub,” Luther said. “If I was you, I’d spend two bits a day and keep the rest for myself.”
“Actually we’re not expected to spend that much,” Grant informed him. “It’s the same with the six cents a mile. It’s extra compensation.”
He started to mention he had to provide his own pistol as well as pay for his own bullets, but thought the subject of weapons and ammunition might upset Rebecca and Fionna. “Not to worry. With the farm income, we’ll get along just fine.”
Rebecca looked at her mother. “You and Pa can spend the night here on Saturday market days and we’ll all go to church together Sunday mornings.”
Fionna felt a wave of happiness sweep over her. That undying faith she had in the future was beginning to bear fruit. Now if only Silsby would come home, all her dreams would be realized.