Friday, May 03, 2013
Per Harboe
9 Oceanic Drive
Warana 4575
Maincom Services!
Please find attached signed copies of contract pages 5,6,7
and 9 in connection with Claim Ref: E55589/MAINCOM REF:QSC1734
Kind Regards
Per Harboe
Friday, June 15, 2012
Memoirs narrated
by
Ella Harboe born
Weirup
I was born on 25.
March in the year of our Lord, 1901 in a furious Blizzard. A farmer near by
where we lived, had to run five kilometers to retrieve the midwife. – I was the
fifth in the flock of siblings and came eight years after the one, which should
have put a stop to more children, and to the great indignation to the two
oldest in the group. – Karla, who was sixteen years and Valdemar fourteen.
Kristian (Kette) of 11 years reacted in a more commercial way. He had both
rabbits and pigeons and concluded that: "If we get lucky with her, perhaps we can sell her when she gets
bigger". Sister Karen, who was eight years old, thought she had got a nice
doll to play with, and that nearly could have cost my life. After what is told,
my brother Kette one day put me into my
sister Karen's Doll carriage and tied the cat in front. The wild chase went through the courtyard until the cart
overturned, and I fell out without a wound. – My father was fairly robust
against brother Kette on this occasion.
The first I think
I can remember when life took shape – but only faintly – was that I sat clamped
in a swing, which was hung up in the doorway between the lounge and kitchen. My
mother and our young girl Jette bustled
around and was busy, because we were so many people on a daily basis. My father
was a Joiner, Furniture dealer and a Builder, and there were four journeymen
and two apprentices in the workshop, so there was a lot to look after.
Until I was three
years old, it was actually quite enjoyable to be "The Fiver". I was
actually a toy for the whole family. I can remember my brothers were using me
as a ball. They stood in either end of the
kitchen and threw me from one to the other, and I of course screamed from delight.
My mother took it very calmly, but I remember that my father cried "don't
spill her", so he has probably been a little nervous.
At this time it
dawned upon my mother, that I could
easily be spoiled, so now I was kept in the shadow of my sister Karen, who was
very beautiful, quick to learn and fast in her remarks. Kette and Karen usually
kept together, and when Karla and Valdemar got jobs, there was only father to
pamper me and he did it really well.
When I was four
years old, I popped across the street to our neighbor – a veterinarian family,
which I enjoyed very much to be together with. My father and mother very often
were together with them. They were the only ones in the village who said
welcome, when my parents and family came from Copenhagen Copenhagen Holsted
St.
When I was five
years old my oldest sister Karla married a Baker, who had a shop at Holsted St island of Fuur
When sister Karen
was twelve years old and brother Kette fourteen, they went to the Dance Studio.
When they came home, they ordered me around to teach me to dance "Lanciers",
and they couldn't understand that I could not learn to "invite to dance"
all the chairs which were supposed to be
the people in the dance hall. It usually ended up with me weeping and gnashing until my mother
took pity on me and explained to them that I was only five years old. I have since learned to dance, thanks to all
the young people who were in the house, and they also taught me to sing, so I
wasn't very old when I was singing for family and friends.
Now, as I am writing, we are in the month of November
and Christmas is approaching – I can't help but think how cozy it was when the journeymen, apprentices and the whole family gathered in
the lounge to make Christmas decorations. The men in the workshop had made wood
shavings. We created little baskets out of wood shavings in many different
shapes and roses and Jacob ladders.
Mother made coffee with lovely Christmas cake. There was always a kettle of
water boiling on the stove.
Grandmother and
grandfather was of course always with us at Christmas Eve, they lived in the
same street not far from us. They were both picked up and returned. It was
sometimes necessary, as there was often snow and a very slippery foot path..
I remember when
my grandmother was dead, and grandfather was collected for Christmas. He would
not come because it was so slippery; but brother Kette, who at this time was in
his lout age, took one of the apprentice boys with him and got grandfather
persuaded to at least get out of the door, but that was it. Grandfather
resisted with both legs, just as a pig to be slaughtered. That was just what
brother Kette had been waiting for, because now he could slide in his slippers
straight to our door. But the trip didn't go quietly. Grandfather yelled out
all the way and called them "bloody
hooligans". Well, as soon as grandfather came in, my mother knew exactly just how she could get
grandfather in a good mood again. A small Christmas snaps did wonders. – At
that time the cost of a bottle of schnapps was twenty-eight ore, so it could be found in
almost every home. That was also why "Jens Post" our neighbor, fell
in to the mill pond with the post bag and the whole lot. He started his post
run in the morning at Christmas eve day. . At that time there was nothing
called letter boxes. The postman went straight in to the homes. The
doors were never locked and people would like to have a little talk with the
postman. . – Not much was happening in the small village and Jens Post
shouldn't "carry the Christmas out" as it was called; and since there
was even a snow storm going, people were particularly generous. So eventually
Jense's nose got just as red as the nisse men's hats on the Christmas cards. When
he had to cross the bridge leading across the Mill Pond, it happened.… He was fortunately fished up by
a the miller. Jens explained to the post
master afterwards that the damned railing always used to be at the left side,
but that night it was suddenly at the right side. When the post master very
angry asked for the letters, Jens post
said nonchalantly "Yes well, what
is not her in the bag must be in the mill pond", and that was quite
logical.
I thought we had
it very cozy in the winter time. My mother usually read aloud for us in the
evening from the "English Queens without Crown", "Hans Christian
Andersen's novels" or Jeppe Aakjærs "Jens Longknife". I was too
little to understand any of it, but when my father and mother laughed, I also thought that it was very funny. Father
went around the table with his long pipe, and I sat on his back. To prevent me from
getting bored, I had a comb, which I was allowed to come him with. It could be
said that he got "comb for his hair", because I wasn't always
gentle. When he shouted "ouch",
I assured him that it was merely a hair not.
There were two
teams of neighbors who came and played cards. I was usually allowed to stay up
to until the coffee was served, and on that occasion, I remember that I saw my
chance to mix all the play money and put them nicely together in the centre of
the table, so that when the "game birds" came in from the coffee
there was quite a commotion when they tried to find out who owned what money.
It wasn't always
easy to be "The Fiver". The four older siblings would try to bring me
up, and my mother was, as before mentioned, afraid that I should be spoiled, so
it could well result in a little injustice, I thought.
I can remember
sister Karen and I were sharing a piece of chocolate. One piece was slightly
larger than the other, and we would of course both of us have the biggest piece;
but mother ruled by saying: "Karen is the biggest, so she must have the
biggest piece", I accepted it calmly; but sister Karen was now insidious,
she rushed to eat her part and then sat and stared at my chocolate until I handed
over a piece of what I had left. She was always very cunning when she would
achieve anything. Even when she wanted a pair of skates,-the cost was then four
kroner, and that was of course a lot of money, but sister Karen did it by
asking father if she could borrow two
crowns, and when he went along with that, she asked very cattily for another
two crowns because two was not enough. Father
of course could not resist that. Yes, sister Karen was quite a bit calculating;
but in virtue of her appearance and skill, her will usually prevailed.
I think I must
have been 5 years old when I got a disease, whish I today believe must have
been poliomyelitis in a mild degree. I could not turn my head or tolerate
anyone touching me, and I had high fever. Sister Karen was sweet, she collected
snow in a handkerchief and put it on my
forehead, and the old doctor we had ordinated
a hot bandage of coffee grounds. If that was what helped, I do not know;
but I surveyed. I got all the children's diseases. The worst was when I got
scarlet fever, because it was my fathers sister and godmother, who discovered
it. She was married to the grocer Kjeldsen, who had the great grocery shop. They
realized that she could bring the infection with her home to the business.
Therefore it went by in the greatest secrecy. And I did not go to the hospital,
like all the other children did. Yes, it was no wonder that aunty Katrine was
nervous. When she and her husband as young people established them selves with their business in the city, she eventually gave birth to eight
children, but since there was typhus in the village, she lost them all. She
later gave birth to four children, three girls and a boy – Elisabeth, Kristian,
Ulla and Mie, who luckily lived and were – except Mie – adults, when father and
mother moved to the village. I still remember the old grocery store with stacks
of everything possible outside. As soon as we came in, we got a mixed scent
ranging from coffee, spices, rope and kerosene in the nose. Behind the disk the
assistants jumped to and fro and commanded the apprentices and messengers, and
at the front were the peasants with their wives. The men got their pipes filled
and a schnapps. Wives got a sweet schnapps, what we today call liqueur. There
was dried fish on the floor between the butter tubs – butter brought in by the
peasants. It wasn't too appetizing to look at, but it was very cozy.
Uncle Kjeldsen
was rarely to be seen. He sat as a spider in its web in the Office, but heard
and saw everything that came in to the store. On Sundays, he went horse
riding and inspected the sites and
buildings he owned. When there was a
party at the Inn , which was located opposite
the shop, he got my aunty to invite the wives of the villagers to drink coffee
in the inn's large dining room. It would
give him extra customers. My aunty was
not afraid to give a hand when poor people got in to difficulties. Once she was awakened in the middle of the night.
Gypsies had arrived in the village. They lived in tents behind the Inn . One of the women was pregnant and had come in to
pain. The Gypsy did not ask in vain. My
auntie went down and helped the poor
young wife. It was her first child – probably not the last.
Behind the grocery courtyard - was a road
which was called Klausens road – now called "Aagade". There my paternal
grandfather and paternal grandmother lived in a small house. I remember it was
white, and at the end of the house there was a greenhouse. Grandfather was a
gardener and did have a horticulture business in Kolding Kolding Denmark Germany
If paternal
grandfather was in the war, I have never heard, but I know that maternal
grandfather was at "Dybbøl", because when my brothers asked him if he
had shot a German, he said that he had shot up in the air, he could not kill a
human being-I hope it is true. In addition to what I have written about my paternal
grandfather and paternal grandmother, I don't know too much about them.
On the other hand, I have been told quite a
bit about my mother's family. My great- great grandparents were called Bartels
and came from Germany Kiel Kiel America "Denver
I am not fully
aware of how distinguished my great grandparents
were, but they must have been friends with the count and countess Rantzau. The
Countess became my grandmother's godmother and got her first name Otilie. My
grandmother left a book of prayers which she received as a christening gift
from Countess Otilie Rantzau with some dates and preface. In any case, there
was indeed a scandal, when my
grandmother would merry my grandfather. – It was a misalliance, since maternal
grandfather was only an ordinary craftsman from Funen. He had been involved in
the war and as a Dane –an enemy-so that it could definitely not be done. But
grandmother did not drop on his Jorgen; and one day they fled together to Denmark Denmark
Mother told me
that they had a nice time in Fredericia, there was water and a beautiful
forest, which was called Trælde. There they went very often. They were four
siblings, maternal grandfather the elder, then came a boy Frederik, so Emma and
finally Otilie – named after her mother. Maternal grandfather had good work,
and in the evening, when maternal grandfather came home, they had a nice time
singing polyphonic songs. Poor grandmother was unable to be with them, because
when she lived at home, she sang in the choir that great-grandfather conducted,
and he continued to press her voice up in the treble, so that her vocal cords
were damaged. I remember that she spoke as a horse chuck.
Grandmother and
maternal grandfather may also have lived in Kolding, while my mother was very
young because she told me that she was in a sewing club once a week with a lord
mayor Chjørring in Kolding, where the mistress was reading aloud and helped
them with their handy work.
When my mother
was old enough to fly from the nest, she traveled to Copenhagen
With the poet "Kellands",
where my mother was a maid, they were often visited by many known actors, among others "Oda
Nielse"n, which at the time was a very celebrated actress. Oda Nielsen
always wanted my mother to assist her in and out of her overcoat, although
there were servants.
I do not know
whether my mother and father met each other in Copenhagen America America
In my father's
family there were six siblings, four boys and two girls. The boys called
Mathias, Christian, Carl and Frederick. Carl was my father, he was number three
in the group. Frederick America
Both my father's
and mother's parents came to live in Holsted in their olden days, so we were,
as before written, an extended family.
When I was about four years old, I got my first shock. There was a
thunderstorm. Sister Karla was home with her little boy Karl Max, he was 10
months old, and I loved him, of course. One evening – I remember it was in the
evening between the last of August and 1st of September. We were all in bed.
Sister Karla and her little boy slept down in the living room, the rest of us
on the first floor.. We had a large gable room, where both my father, mother,
sister Karen and I slept. Kette had his room next to ours, and the journeymen
and apprentices in the other rooms. Fortunately none of them were home, because
it was Saturday night.. We had probably been in bed for about an hour. I dreamt that I was attacked by a bull. I
yelled and screamed. When I woke up to my horror I heard sister Karen scream:
"I am going through the floor".
At the time there came a deafening racket, and suddenly I was alone in
the bedroom. A few moments later Kette came and lifted me out of the bed, out
on to the stairs and carried me down. In
the passageway at the courtyard stood my father and mother. The door out to the courtyard was open. In the yard was Karla with her little boy on
the arm. The rain came pouring down. The little Karl Max kept the small hands
on his head and could not understand where all that much water came from. I can
remember that we all huddled together,
and my mother said: "Thanks God we are all saved". Father took me on the
arm, and we went out in the kitchen in the dark. We had kerosene lights
everywhere, so it took a bit before they were turned on, and it was a terrible
sight that met us. The chimney was split in two by the lightning. Lime and
plaster was lying all over the floor. And
on the kitchen cupboard, in all the mess, was mother's lovely home baked
Christmas cake. Fortunately it was
covered by a clean towel, so we could
eat it. When we came into the launch rooms we were wading in crusted glass. The
lightning had followed the gold frames of the pictures on the walls. There was
a smell from burnt wood; but curiously
enough there was nothing that burned. However, there were a lot of holes in the
roof. Nearly half the roof was missing.
It wasn't long before the neighbors arrived. They all believed that it was at
their place the lightning had hit and
were more or less shocked. One of the men turned up in his wife's trousers in
the belief that it was his own panties he had taken. Our neighbor, the vet,
came over with chocolate and cake; but not many of us could get anything down.
I, for my part, was sitting on my
mother's knee and shook and jagged my teeth for a couple of hours. I had a
difficult time overcoming the shock. For several days I did not dare walk alone
up in the loft, and strangely enough, I could not bare to listen if there was a
barrel organ playing in the street. I just
ran in and wept.
The next shock came
when I was almost six years old. At that time Sister Karla, her husband and
little Karl Max lived in Vinderup. Karl
Max had just turned three years old, and I loved him and was very pleased when
we got the letter that we could expect the family on vacation. One afternoon, as I came
in, after I had been playing with my girlfriends, there was a telegram sent
from Vinderup. My mother was reading it
aloud, and it said: "Karl Max has been run over and is dead". First I
was paralyzed, but then I screamed and continued to scream until my mother put
me to bed. I got fever, both at night and the next day. Mother explained to me
that she had to travel to Vinderup to be with Karla and that I could well
understand. The next day, I had no fever and was able to get out with my
girlfriends, who comforted me, each in their own way. I got over it, but never forgot the little
boy.
My horror, when I
was little, was to hear brass music. I
remember when my father became "Rifle Shooting King" and was followed
home by a brass band, I was hiding behind all the skirts I could find. It was
probably the big tuba, which I thought sounded dangerously.
When I was 6 years old, I was in school and at
the same time learning to play the piano. Sister Karen was a clever
pianist., and I was almost brought up in music because I from very
little was played in to sleep by my father, who played well on violin. With regard to piano lessons, I think it was
tackled the wrong way. I was only 6 years old when my cousin should teach
me piano playing. I remember that I had a plait in the neck and it was used by
my cousin to pull every time I played badly. I was crying, of course, when I was supposed
to have playing lessons. It didn't help much when my sister Karen undertook the task to go
further with me. You can probably imagine how it goes when a sister is playing
the teacher. It only helped when dad took care of me, despite the fact that he only
played the violin. He got me so far that we could play together. Unfortunately,
he could not read my fingering position; so where it was not specified, I had to find it out
my self, and that affected the dexterity.
If mom and dad could afford the expense for the lessons my sister Caren
got from Mrs.Svarre, I would properly be cleverer to day. However, I have
managed with what I have learned. and
the music has given me plenty of joy.
There were
various people in my childhood, which I particularly remember, because they
were almost eccentrics. We went walking to the Tirslund plantation to see the
large stone, as in a child's eyes was a mountain. On the road that led to
Tirslund there was a small ramshackle hut with bags cramped in the Windows.
Here lived Maren Eg. She was supposed to be the daughter of a man who was
called "Plunder Hans", and who lived in Bjøvlund plantation. It was
said that he as a young man he had been hiding in the bush by the road and had
plundered lonely people when they passed by – hence the name. Maren Eg existed by begging.
She went along with a big sack on her back, scarf around the head and a ruffled,
dirty apron in an equally dirty dress, but what I thought was the worst by far
was her face, it was so full of deep dirty wrinkles and a nose that due to
drunkenness, looked like a strawberry. It was frightening when she came in at the
kitchen door and said in her Jutland dialect:
"Can I have a bit". Mom gave me a ten-ore, it was a lot of money back
then. I was asked to give it to Maren I didn't dare not to; but I really shook with fear. Maren took the
ten ore and said: "Thank you very mush my little girl.You are good to the
pure people, then the lord will be good to you". That must have been the
only pious talk from Marens mouth, because just as soon as she had received
enough money to pay for a bottle of spirit she drank her self drunk. It was then a
completely different flowery language that came from her lips. Sometimes she
tried to get on board the postal wagon but was prevented by the driver. She was
allowed to stand on the foot board, and then she sang "Hjalmar and
Hulda" , and her side remarks were definitely not intended for virgin eas.; but otherwise there was
really nothing evil in Maren. I remember one day when I should pick up some
milk for my mother. We got that from the Parish Cheef". I had just come
out from the courtyard with my bucket full of milk when I, to my horror saw
Maren Eg come towards me. In my hand, I had some biscuits, which I had received
from Kirsten Mikkelsen, and in my distress I ran over and gave them to Maren . Maren must have been touched because she
embraced me and kissed me. I got myself
free and rushed home to tell my mother. Mother stood there petrified. Then she took me over to the
kitchen sink and – yes it was good that scouring powder was not invented at
that time, because I wouldn't have had much face left, the way I got washed.
Ole Olsen, or
"Ole Pip", as he was called, I was not afraid of, although he looked
very weird. He was big and boney, his head
sat down between his shoulders, and his back was curved like an arch. . He
always had an umbrella under his arm. He had an idea that if there was a
thunderstorms, he could simply turn up the umbrella, and he wood not get hit by
lightning. He was very afraid to cross over the rail tracks at the station. When he had to cross the
rails, he took off his shoes, one in each hand, looked to both sides and jumped
in long strides. Children and many
adults were very amused when they saw him.
I often felt sorry for him and I thought that he should much rather be
called "Ole with the umbrella" (a well known song amongst Danish
children) but I could not imagine that he should sit at my bed and tell fairy
tales.
We also had a
journeyman who was called "Grim". He came and asked for work one
evening. He had a bird-cage in his hand with a Falcon. He said that he himself
had caught it and was very pleased with it, so the cage with "Groh"
was hanged up in the workshop.
Unfortunately, he
didn't have much joy of the bird. One morning it was laying dead. Grim had a confidential relation to death.
When he made a coffin, and it was almost finished, he laid himself in it and
took his dinner sleep there. He said that he had attended the last execution
that took place in Denmark
Finally, I mustn't forget the sweetest eccentric I have known!
Our neighbor, veterinarian Sørensen. It is difficult to say how old he was,
because I think he has been old in all the time that I have known him; but I will
never forget him. I can still see him sitting in his horse cart on the way to a
veterinarian job. The whip was only used to swing around in large arches and the body followed the rhythm. Claus, as
the old horse was called, did not even notice the whip, even when there was
shouted: "hay-hay". No, Claus decided
his own speed. When he reached "The
Guest House" he turned around by himself; for it was always there, that
the old veterinarian came to think that he had forgotten something. Then he had to go back and retrieve it. I
felt so sorry for him, because both his feet were full of corns. It was not
always he took on his shoes, if he had to goe out at night in a necessary errand, and we
could hear how he cried "ouch-ouch-ouch". There were cobblestones, so
it wood probably hurt a lot. Usually he came over every Sunday morning to my
father. They played chess and could sit all morning without saying anything
else than what is said in the game. Of course, when the veterinarian was
checkmate – or what ever it was called, then he said "aush-auch
well", and puffed on his pipe. Yes, the old veterinarian had his
eccentricities, but he was good at
heart. When he came home in the evening
from his sick visits, he often had a large bag of sweets which he poured
straight down into my lap. It also happened, when he was summoned to a wealthy
farmer, whose cow was sick, that he charged a bit extra on the grounds that he
had just been seeing a poor man, who could not afford to pay, and it was only
reasonable that the wealthy paid for him. I have often seen the veterinarian
come home, opening a drawer in the bureau and put in a handful of money.
Nothing was ever missing in the home. . Mrs Sørensen was very religious and often
had guests for a well-set coffee able. It was usually the wives from religious
homes, but mom called them "the
black wives" They didn't refrain from criticizing the coffee table when
they went home. They thought it was an extravagance without equal.
Mrs Sørensen was
never the less very friendly. I got both
this and that, when I ran across the street to visit her. In the time of fruit
I ate myself a stomachache in plums, and I got large branches with red currants
– so much so that I almost couldn't
carry them, Mrs Sørensen also took me with her to Sunday school and the Christmas
tree in the mission House. I was most happy to go to the Christmas tree in the
citizen association. It was usually on the fifth Christmas day. I will never
forget the view of that Christmas tree. There were so many lights on and they
were sitting in rows right into the trunk.
There were both apples and oranges, which together with the pine gave a
wonderful fragrance.
It could happen
that the plucky citizens themselves were a little "decorated" when
they came home for dinner after having decorated the tree right from the
morning. It was cold in the hall, and they had to have a couple of drinks to warm themselves on.
I think there was
much more snow, when I was a child, except for the ice winters we have had. I remember that there were many
more sledges on the road than cars. It was very cozy, when, in the evening, we
were sitting around the table with the kerosene lamps lit and then hear the
bells from the sledges going past, the rumbling noise from the wooden sledges
and the children's happy laughter.
On the other side
of the dairy, which was next to the current Esbjerg/Kolding road crossing
bridge, was the marketplace on a a slope which of course was used for
sledging. There were always some big
milk toboggans, which were used for the transport of milk from and to the farms.
I can remember that some big boys took one of them and slid it down the hill across
the road and right into wood turner Christensen's House. The hole corner of the
house went to pieces. Unfortunately I
can't remember what happened then; I
wasn't very big. I do remember that I went
on a toboggan trip with Ingeborg and Aksel Andersen. There was an old woman
walking on the road – her name was Boel. Axle stopped and asked her if she wanted a lift, but Boel responded: "No
thanks! I would rather sit with my bare ass in a snow drift".
The sledge track on the marketplace didn't last for very long. There was to be built a
dispensary shop next to the dairy. My uncle Kjeldsen then built a shop next to
Town Clark Iversen's house with a driveway in between. In the middle – between
Uncle Kjeldsens business and the chemist- the taylor
To stay a bit
with Kristiansfeldt can I tell you that my father's sister Maren in a fairly old
age witnessed a historic event. She managed to attend the reunification (a part
of Denmark
Back to the
marketplace; it was transferred to another position as far as the cattle were
concerned. On the other hand; the horse
market was still in the village right up into the forties. It was held at the
hotel owner Larsens place where there was room enough for horse trotting and not too far from the snaps drinks. Although the village wasn't very big, it was eventually a civil servant place with District Office, post office, two lawyers, one
counselor, two schools and the Tinghus with its prison cells, and of course a
police man and a doctor. All these authorities, I think, to days people would
describe more or less as eccentrics; at least as seen with the eyes of a child
for old people. The veterinarians eccentricities
have I mentioned. The doctor used to,
when he was visiting patients, to find the housewife's sawing basket, sit and
wind up the yarn, and put it in order, while the patient was quizzed about the
symptoms. The "Jurisdictional Bailiff" sometimes walked his dog. If
he from a long distance spotted another person, which also aired his dog, he
cried "Keep yours to yourself" The same gentleman suffered defeat one day at
the Carnival. The jurisdictional bailiff
stood as a spectator in the middle of the door to the House where the party was
held. My brother Christian, who was disguised as the devil could not get past
him. He
resolutely jumped over the district bailiff. The bailiff lost his
dignity from fright and exclaimed: "what on earth was that?" but the jubilation did not allow the jurisdictional
bailiff to be insulted.
The Postmaster, I
think, always looked very dignified. I
do not know if it was because he had a wooden leg and wobbled with his body
when he walked. He was a nice man and very musical. He and my father played
often together on their violins.
The wives of the gentlemen I have mentioned I knew very well. It was important,
as in all villages, to out do each
other. Most of the families had children, some in the confirmation age and some
slightly older. There were only two balls a year, the shooting association ball and the
Christmas tree ball. For that reason the
prominent families had parties for the young people who were friends of their own
children, and it was often quite a lot. Both my sisters and brothers and nephews
and cousins were always there. I remember that a closed wagon was sent around,
to pick up and bring home the young people. I myself was unfortunately too
small to go with them, but I was used as sleeping partner for lawyer Schmidt's
daughter, when the parents were out, and the maid had time off.
Although, just as in all other children's childhood,
there were many stumbling blocks, I
enjoyed the coziness of the village
itself. There was, first and foremost
pies and quiet. It was quit seldom that a
truck came past. When, on a summer evening, we were sitting on a bench outside
the House, we could, for along time hear a faint rumbling sound, before a cart
finally turned up with peat, retrieved from the surrounding bogs. Sometimes it
came from many miles away. Because of the bogs there were many Storks who lived
in different places in the city. The frogs croaked in the meadows and in
"Vestermosen" '. The neighbors visited each other, got their pipes
stopped and a chat as well. One might
well sit outside until ten o'clock without freezing, but usually my mother got
up from the bench and after having asked my father what the time was, packed her crochet together and said: "Now, I will go in and
put the compote on the table", then we had a nice rhubarb porridge or
sweet porridge. Usually at this time my brother Kette came home and threw three
or four lovely trouts on the table. He loved to fish, but there were also
problems with it. Kette would preferably
fish in the creek east of the mill pond. The piece of meadow he had to stand on
belonged to the pub owner. If the owner
was in sight, he had to get away quick smart because the pub owner always had a
stick he used to express his emotion with
At home Kette had
an entire menagerie of dogs, cats, rabbits, pigeons and fowls. I remember he
had a dwarf hen which was sick. Kette didn't know what to do about it, but then
came my brother Valdemar. He suggested
that the chuck should have a teaspoon of schnapps, and it got it. Believe it or
not, the chuck improved. Kette thought that as it helped that much, they had
better give it another schnapps. It got
that with the result that the head fell on it's side and it had a blissful
death. Brother Valdemar looked very thoughtful and concluded that it should
probably not have had the last one. On the other hand, he had a rooster that
was full of courage. There were no children who dared to go into the courtyard,
without being accompanied by an adult. The rooster flew straight in to the
heads of those who dared go in. I remember that my sister had to go to the loo
down the yard, and veterinarian Karl had to stand outside the door and swing a
flag. It was the only thing it was afraid of. It ended its life in a soup pot,
and none of us children had any pity for it. It was different when the pig was
slaughtered. When early in the morning I heard the heartbreaking cries from the
pig I putt myself under the blanket and propped my fingers in the ears. I didn't
not come down from the bedroom before the
butcher was scraping the hairs off, after it had been scalded. Then I
was brave enough to hold it's tail.
We also had a small
goat, but because I was so small, it was
my sister Karen and veterinarian's Karl, who had the most pleasure from it. My
father had made a small cart that could be hitched after the goat. One day
Karen found a piece of curtain, which she put on her head as a Bridal Veil, and
Karl should of course be the groom. He got an old hat of his father 's. Kette
agreed to lead the goat with the vehicle. So we went down the street – right down to Uncle
Kjeldsens business. When they stopped there, my uncle came out, and he, who otherwise was a grave man, couldn't resist the
bridal coach. He fetched a piece
of chocolate for them as their bridal gift.
In the eastern
part of the city on a hilltop was Tinghuset – a stately two-storey building
designed by the famous architect Bindesbøl. The upper floor contained a
courtroom, judge room, lawyer's room and witnesses waiting room. In the lower
the prison caretaker lived with his family. In the two wings, which were added
to the back of the main building were prison cells. To the East, for women and
to the West for men. It was rare that the cells were empty. It didn't take much
for a drunk to be shown in to detention. At that time there were quite a few
secret pubs – and the snaps was cheap. I once saw the policeman come driving
with a drunk man on a trolley. When they reached Tinghuset the cart was overturned,
like it had been a sack of potatoes. He was throwen about in to the courtyard
and into custody. I thought this was frightening, but it was mouch worse when
my father came home and told us that a young thief should have lashings. The
prison caretaker had not closed the prison door fully when he took the prisoner
in and that suited the prisoner. He got out and yearned so terribly for his
mother. They found him after a couple of hours in the search. The poor boy got
many lashes and screamed so it could be heard over half the village.
A trial could
also shape up tragicomic. A man appeared in court for sexually abusing a pig. Under interrogation the jurisdictional bailiff
suddenly became absentminded and looked after a few moments at the defendants
and said: "Did you think that it was a pretty peg?
We also had a
fortuneteller in the village. Semine was her name. Her husband was a drunkard ,
so the food for herself and her husband she earned by doing washing for people
in the daytime and in the evening she told fortunes to young girls. The worst
thing was that Semine could not be reconciled with her neighbor. – Their
gardens adjoined, and Semine had their chickens in her garden, where they destroyed
everything she had sown. Semine found a
solution. She was lying in wait with a bread knife in her hand at the hole
where the hens used to get through. Every time a measly hen put the head through
the hole Semine, grabbed it, cut the
head off and threw the body across to the neighbor, where it belonged. Of course
it did not go without a hitch. Semine nearly got into trouble, when the
neighbor, Peter, came rushing in with a large stick in his hand. Luckily,
Semines children were present, and that put a damper on Peter's anger, but they
were never good friends after that, although the matter was settled out of
court.
As a child I was
very sensitive to the teasing that always exists between siblings, especially
when it was about my appearance. As I grew up it was worse. Sometimes I was
told that my hands and feet were too big, and that my brain was good enough, but
there was just too little of it. Unfortunately my father could not help it but laugh. I cried; and that was for a time the only
weapon I had, until my mother promised me a good hiding if I didn't not stop
with that whimpering. I hardly dared to
cry after that; not even when my dog had to be shot. Since then it
has always been difficult for me to cry. On the other hand, I have had a grinding
feeling in my throat and that can be very painful. . I think that my father's
and mother's age had a lot to do with the fact that they were not really able
to familiarize themselves with the world I lived in. My mother had, although we
always had a young girl to help, enough to do with so many people on a daily
basis. Another thing was that both my father and mother had a sense of humor
and perhaps not always understood what was stirring in a child's soul.
I started school
fairly early, because my sister Karen was going to be confirmed and had to go
for preparation at the school. Since there was a fairly long way to the school,
my father and mother thought that it was good that I initially could be
accompanied by her. The first year- I was six years old at that
time – went smoothly of course, but then came the problems. I had of course
been given instructions by my father and mother to say Mr and Miss.to the
teachers, and I was not allowed to speak jydsk (danish with jutland accent). I
don't know how Karen fared, but Kette could easily speak jydsk to his comrades, and speak with a
cobenhagen accent when he was at home.
At school I spoke as we were used to at home, but was obviously teased because
of my Copenhagen
The one of the
teachers I liked best was Thomas Juul.
He was only teaching during the winter and lived out in the country. He
was in my humble opinion the-born educator. He was so patient. When he stood at
the blackboard and explained an equation, he said "You just have to tell
me, if ye do not understand it, because then we will start right from the
beginning".
There was an
addition to the head masters dwelling, which was used as a dining room for the
children who came in from the countryside and had food with them; but it was
indeed used for dancing, when there was a break. It was mostly when the weather
was bad. I can see the teacher, Thomas Juul, for me when he took on his blue
plush shoes and danced with us right until the bell rang and the break was
over. I never brought lunch, because my mother insisted that I should come home
and have dinner with them. That was
perhaps all right, but it was difficult to manage within one hour from twelve
to one. It took me at least ten minutes to
walk each way, so I couldn't allow my self time for looking around much.
Children usually do that a lot and they don't walk very fast.
It wasn't always
nice to walk past the farm which was located in the middle of the city – the one
solicitor Iversen had built and sold to Frederik Christiansen. Now a days it
would not be possible to let the urine from the cattle farm run right out in to
the gutter and then down in to the creek.
We had to hold our nose and jump across the pools, which had formed on the
road.
The creek I
mentioned was, and still is, a beautiful feature for the village. It runs from East to West, winding itself
between meadows and gardens and is a wonderful place for both adults and children.
It was especially nice that it ran just at the bottom of the playground at
school. In every break we went down to the Creek in the summer time. We climbed
out on the branches of the large trees leaning out across the water. The boys
went bear feet and chased small fish away from the brink. Further to the West
was a swimming place where I learned to swim just four strokes and was very
proud of it. The worst thing was that the toilet waste from the judges house
occasionally came sailing as small islands on the water. Then some body shouted
"a shit" "a shit"; and every body got busy and was scrambling to
get out of the water. Yes, hygiene was not very important at that time. It was
strange, there was no more diseases than there were.
The bridge
leading across the creek was a focal point in Holsted, because from there roads
were leading to all the corners of the world.
When I went to school, I had to pass it every day. It was hard to pass this bridge, because when
we stood in the middle of it and looked out, we could see the meadows with the mill
in the background. The meadows were covered by yellow butter flowers, and on the roof of the pub
there was a storks nest with stork chicken in it. To the other side big trees
spread their branches across the creek and there were always swans. There was
enough to look at to nearly make one late for school. .
It was different in the winter time. It wasn't funny for a small six-year old girl to
walk the long road to school; sometimes in snow and frost. I remember one day,
when I was going home from school that it had blown a veritable Blizzard; I had to stumble through large snow drifts.
When I was so close that I could see our home, I suddenly had to do a wee. I could not bring myself to do it in the
middle of the road, but I had to rush and therefore I went into a snowdrift
next to a house corner. I could easily get the pants down, but it was
impossible for me to get them up again as my fingers were rigid from cold. I went the last piece of the road home with my
pants down. When I came in through the
door, I fell down on to the kitchen floor giving my mother a big fright. She
yelled "but little sweet
heard". I did not hear any more
because I was so busy screaming from
self-pity and cold. My mother got my clothes off me. My pants were one big lump
of ice. It wasn't long before I was in a
warm bed and drank lots of chamomile tea. Strangely enough I didn't get a
cold. I think I was strong and healthy. My mother was
also careful with what I should have to eat. She was used to, from her own home,
to eat vegetables; so we always got plenty of that. We grew it our self in the
garden but it was also cheap to buy.
.
When I was 9
years old we moved to my mother's father's house. It was about a hundred meters from where we
lived at the time. My grandfather had been dead a few years when my uncle Kjeldsen, who owned the house we lived in, needed
some money – and because we rented the
house, we had to move. It had probably not happened if my fathers sister
Katrine had lived, but it was good that we had a place to move in to.
My father then
added a storey to the house and built a workshop in the courtyard. There also
had to be a furniture shop. All in all it was quit a mouthful to handle; but as
he was able to draw the house himself and do the carpentry work it all went
well. My mother also worked hard I will
say. She emptied the coaches for bricks and stacked them, so that the brick
layers could easily get hold of them. Yes, there were guts in our little
mother.
When we moved to
my grand fathers house I was 9 years old. My father built the workshop first where
we lived until we could move in to the new house. The bottom floor was from
1912. It shaped up well in the beginning. My father was very creative. In
addition to drawing houses, he invented and made farming machinery. I do not know whether my father had taken out
a patent on the machinery, but he certainly had that on the chairs he invented.
They were from mahogany, polished and put together, so that they could be
packed in a flat box. My father had them on exhibition at the technological
Institute in Fredericia and received many orders. It was in 1914 that war broke out. Since dad
had to use metal tubes for the chairs and the pipes came from Germany Germany
I shall never
forget when the first world war broke out on 1.of august; it was on a nice
summer evening. We were sitting, as we usually did, on the bench outside the House. We were in a very
somber mood because the parish chef,
Mikkelsen, who should manage the call ups, sent the young men, who were not
themselves going to be called up, out with the call up orders. They came
galloping on horses all night. Also my
brother Kette had to leave for the engineering
troops and was there for two years. As a border town Holsted was quartered with soldiers, both dragoons
and infantry. One of the schools was made in to barracks. The soldiers who could not fit in there, were
accommodated around the town with landowners-but only for dinner. We had no
less than eight soldiers who should have food every day. It was a hard time for
my mother. I had started to go to the priest
for my confirmation and had to walk 4 km every other day besides going to school.
It was not easy
in the winter time. Us "priest
children" had to stumble through
snow drifts and mud When we arrived to
the parsonage, the clothes and boots had to be hanged to dry at the stove
inside the education room which was not very large. The consequence was that the smell caused
some of us to pass out. Apart from that
we didn't not regret the trip, because we were usually joined by horsemen who
were on patrol. They were, of course, on horse back, and would like to have a
bit of entertainment. As soon as the village had got over it's fear of war, it
wasn't long before it was discovered that it wasn't too bad to have soldiers in
the shops and the pups. The Inn and the confectioner were always filled with soldiers.
There was also a lot more life in the village. The Regimental Orchestra often
gave a Concert with a ball afterwards. The daughters of the village, of course,
could not resist the "shiny buttons",
There was life and happy days, until the Spanish flu arrived.
In the early
years it was mostly soldiers who got infected. There was an old gymnastics
hall, opposite "Tinghuset",
which was used as army hospital. I do not remember how many died. I can
only remember that a soldier got out of bed one night and in a fever frenzy
went in to the mill pond near by, where he drowned.
When I was
fifteen years old my father got attacked by tuberculosis. It was a hard blow
for the family. We did not have to feed
the soldiers any more. When my father
went to hospital and my brother Kette was drafted, there was only my mother and
I left in the House. My mother thought that it wood be good for me to get out
and learn something. I came as a maid in
to the House of a judge and earned the
"huge" salary of 25 øre pr. day. But I learned a lot and had a good time. The only thing I didn't
like was the two over pampered pit dogs. They gave me a lot of problems. I
remember that one evening we had a party
for the city's top people. A cousin of the house wife – she had to learn housekeeping
– was this evening at the table. We had a cook, and I had to serve. It ended
horribly. I had a large heavy dish with meat rissoles in one hand and a sauce
pitcher in the other. The cook opened the door to the dining and the two pit dogs saw their chance to run
away into the room. I just reached the table when one of the dogs rushed straight against my leg. The result
was that I happened to tilt the dish with the meat rissoles and a nice big rissole took speed over the
edge of the dish and landed in the lap of the solicitor and continued down
under the table right in front of the dogs, and that meant trouble. A blazing battle started between skirts and
legs of the dinner guests. The ladies shirked and the gentlemen laughed, so
tears came down their cheeks. The judge snatched the plate with rissoles from
me, so that I could get hold of the dogs. I got them out in the kitchen and
there was the cook holding her stomach from laughter.
Another time we
had dinner, I also nearly to go out of my wits. My hostesses had founded an Art
Association in the village. Poul Reumert,
a well-known actor, was engaged to read up one evening. He should of course
dine with us, and I should serve. If
Poul Reumert was thoughtless or a Cheshire, I am not sure; but when I served the plate for him, I felt
his hand grasp mine and continued to hold it down, while he talked to his
dinner partner, and it was impossible for me to move forward. I stood
completely helpless and insanely stared my hostess in the eyes. It must have
dawned on the actor, because he gave my
hand a squeeze before he let go.
After eight
months my father came home from the resting home and Kette came home from the
service, so my mother needed me again. It wasn't really much that I was at
home. Both my sisters, brothers and cousins sent for me when they needed help. And I could be used
both as a nurse, baby nurse and a domestic help. It was even cheap for them
because I usually made doe with used clothes and some times something made for
me; but otherwise I was very happy at
home with my father and mother. I had now grown to an age where I would like to
go to balls-either Citizen Club Ball, Christmas Ball or Sports Ball; but it was
difficult for me to get permission. My father and mother did not like much to
let me go on my own. It then had to be my brother Kette's duty to act as
chaperone for my friend Musse and me. The first ball, we attended was not a quit normal experience. Musse had been given
new teeth. It was fairly common at that
time to receive that as a confirmation gift. My parents didn't think that it
was necessary for my part, so I wondered
what I should do to be a match for her.
I came on thinking that I could do a "good figure" of my self
literally. Up in the attic there was an old chest of drawers. I knew that there was an old girdle belonging
to my oldest sister Karla. I got hold of
it and laced my self up so that I was hardly able to breath; but we managed to go to the ball. It was a nice summer evening and all the
windows were open. Musse and I sat under a window and looked at the dancers.
Whether it was drag from the window I do not know, but suddenly Musse came to sneeze. The result was that her
new teeth flew out of her mouth and on to the middle of the floor. Musse was
fast to jump after them, collect them
and dry them in her handkerchief
and put them in her mouth again. I had to reassure her that nobody had seen it. Shortly after I could feel that I could not move my head. It felt just
as if there was something in the neck which was stuck in my hair due which I
had made in to a nice "ball". It was indeed important to act as adult as possible, when you are
only fifteen years old. I then tried to feel what was the cause, and great was
my horror when I felt a big girdle pin which had broken out from the dark
material and was now poking out in to the free air. There was only one thing to do. Pull it up and
throw it away through the open window making sure that nobody had seen it. That was the first time I went to a ball
without my father or mother accompanying me.
Like any other village,
our village of course also had its eccentrics. In addition to those I have all
ready mentioned, there was "Hop Katrine", "Hatch Line" not
to mention "Happy Frederik". Frederick
In the House, my
father built, there was in addition to our own apartment two minor apartments,
which was rented out. One at the first floor and one at the ground floor. Kesten and Jette I remember best as the first
tenants. Kesten paid no rent, for she had been our adviser right from when I
was born. Jette was called for "Holy Jette" because she was very
religious. Of course so many people were
like that, but Jette tended to preach too much where ever she came. Kesten, in
contrast, was her exact opposite, smooth and straight forward. As for example
we had, as all other houses at that time, a WC in the courtyard. It was a
summer evening and it was a long time ago since we had rain. Kesten and Jette
had their own small piece of garden plot behind the WC, where they grew potatoes.
Kesten was watering her little plot of poatatoes while Jette was sitting on the toilet and
heard Kesten mooving about behind the House. The following conversation went
on: "Kesten! what are you doing out there?" Kesten answered: "I
am watering my potatoes Jette"
Jette said: "You don't have to do that, our Lord will look after
that". Kesten said doggedly:
"Mad woman! wouldn't you think that God has more important things to do
than watering my potatoes?". -Kesten had been a farmer's wife and knew that farmers can't
entirely rely on our Lord when it comes to the rain.
When I was
sixteen a letter arrived from my mother's sister in Assens; she was a matron in
a hotel named "Hotel sønderjylland". The Hotel Owner was a widower and had two
daughters at my age. Now my aunt Otilie felt that I should come over and visit
her. I was of course delighted. One
Sunday morning my father took me to the
train – a beautiful summer morning it was and with brilliant sunshine. I enjoyed the trip, although I had to wait for
five hours in Tommerup. Well, I arrived in Assens, late afternoon, and the
first thing my aunt did was to pull my high sett hairstyle down. I had to show off
my long plaits, my aunt said. I had a
lovely holiday with my aunt, but I must say that I got my life's greatest shock
the first evening. The hotel was under renovation, and some walls were torn
down. Asta, the eldest of the daughters, had her room in the attic at the other
end of a large Chamber. I would of course share the room with her. At ten a
clock we went together, each with a candle light. There was no electricity because it was
during the war. We nearly dropped our candles; because when we were going through the Grand
Ballroom, we suddenly saw human sculls
lined up along the walls, one head next
to the other all the way. We screamed
and my aunt came running. When she saw what was the cause she got very furious.
It did not take her long to get hold of
the work men who was the cause of the rough joke. I must say they got a good owe haul. . My aunty
was certainly not the one to joke with; they had to remove the sculls. It turned out that there had been a grave
yard at the site and they had found quite a few skeletons. The workers were not very particular about
it and I don't know what happened to them later. .
When I came home
from Assens good news awaited me.. They had built a picture theater , and they had asked
if I wanted to play to the films three evenings a week with a fee of 15 kr. per
night, so I got stuck in to it. In the
beginning I thought it was quit amusing,
but eventually it became quite trivial. It helped a lot that we were a few
young people who under my father's leadership formed a small Orchestra. We
played every Sunday afternoon and had a very nice time. The Orchestra consisted
of flute, violin, cello, bass and piano. It was amusing to see how the
neighbors gathered themselves below the Windows, when we played. It was the
first and only local Orchestra in the city.
Gradually I came
to play with other orchestras to balls and concerts to great anxiety for my
parents. The nights I was out playing I
didn't come home before five a clock in the morning. That was generally, when
after a concert there was a ball and
most often extra danceing afterwards. I was often very tired, but I earned 35 kr. on such an evening and hat was a lot
of money back then.
It all got to an
end when I took music lessons with an Italian gentleman Bonnaki in Esbjerg
Friday, June 22, 2007
Atter en glædelig familie begivenhed
Nedenstående kom fra Claus og Bente. Vi ønsker dem og de nye forældre hjertelig tillykke.Hej Per og Randi
Jeg prøvede at sende nogle billeder d.6 om aftenen af bettefisen der blev født kl.21.16 til din pmand adresse nu prøver jeg din hotmail
Han hedder William og er så fin
Og mange mange tak for fødselsdags kortet her på min fødselsdag. William og forældre (Jacob og Kirstine) var her i går hvor vi fejrede hinanden.
Hilsen Claus
Saturday, August 12, 2006
En glædelig begivenhed.
Hi til hele familien!
Her er en glædelig familie myhed.
Angela og Math har meddelt at deres baby er på vej. Babyen har meldt sin ankomst først i det nye år. Det bliver så Randis og mit fjerde oldebarn. Angela melder alt i orden hos både mor og barn. Randi og jeg er meget glade for det og vi ønsker alt det bedste for forældre og baby.Som I kan se er det lidt svært at sige hvem babyen ligner mest. Det ser ud til at være en musikalsk baby der lytter til ipod.
