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EVERYBODY’S DANISH – About Christmas
By fred | December 14, 2008
Since it will soon be Christmas, let’s go back to when I was a child of eleven, it was right before the Second World war, the late 1930′s and early 1940′s. As a child my holidays were wild, filled with work, long hours, still I was proud that Dad and Mom would rely on me to be a real grown up worker even if I was still a kid.
Before we go back to those distant days in Los Angeles, I have to tell you that your old Uncle Fred at 79 years of age, is looking out at an inch or so dusting of snow and temps that are far under freezing. The evening temps for the next week or so will be between 10 to 15 degrees and daily temps will not be above freezing usually around 25 degrees.
Right now we have some howling winds, the weather man says the wind chill factor is under freezing and I can tell you he is correct, I walked to the club house a short half block distance from my home yesterday to mail something and almost froze my tail off, this when I had on a heavy coat. So— if you are one of my buddies in California, Arizona or Florida, or any place else where it is warmer — be happy.
Our current C.E.O CAT, Nina has taken a position by our fireplace and seems content to run the house from that position at least until it warms up.
A month ago I remade my bird feeder, it now has a cover to protect from the snow and rain, and protect it from the doves which can always find feed. Anyway, it is loaded with sparrows and other small birds constantly, usually Nina will sit in my home office window looking out at them – snarling at the birds a few times a day, just to show them how macho she is, but seems to have fore gone that job for this cool spell.
In these troubled times we have, may you all be warm, be loved and may our nations problems soon be over.
So — back we go to years gone by———
EVERYBODY’S DANISH by Fred A. Nielsen
CHAPTER (Our Scandinavian store)
The store “Lundsing’s” probably had more influence on my life than any other thing. At four o’clock in the morning the alarm would go off in our home behind the store, and my mother’s day would begin, it was the Christmas season! After working all day in the store waiting on customers, and stocking the shelves till late in the evening she would put pork shoulders in huge medal pots on the stove in the store kitchen, at about midnight. The Scandinavians love their “Silta” (Head Cheese) made of pork.
Mom slept four hours while the pork shoulders were cooking.
Mom was tall for a lady, maybe five feet, nine inches, and probably 110 pounds, no more a very slender lady. My Mom, his iron lady I loved so much, that gave so much love in return, born in the little town of Rib Lake, Minnesota, USA, as Helga Pauline Petersen, married as Helga Pauline Nielsen – lived for 94 years. She was a lady with a work ethic that was almost impossible to believe, how she did it even Dad could not believe and he would work 20 hours a day right along with her.
Our little store was a jungle for the Holidays, Mom and Dad working to exhaustion for almost the entire month. So that I could enjoy the Christmas season as a normal child, I was always “farmed out” to relations for the week before Christmas.
My aunt Olga (Dad’s sister) and her husband, my Uncle Chris took me in, which was O. K. by me. My aunt was one of the greatest cooks I know, and her Danish pastry, cookies, pies defy description!
My cousins, Soren, David, and I were always sitting on the back porch when the baking was going on. When frosting cakes, cookies, pastry, Olga made sure that there was a little left in the bowls; this was sent out the back door. Those bowls were licked so clean they gleamed.
My Aunt Olga was a very tiny lady, and, her husband Chris, my uncle, was no giant. These two produced two very large men. Their sons were big boys. Soren must be at least six feet four inches and David probably six feet or more. My Aunt Olga was like a second Mom and I loved her dearly. However she was quite strict about certain things. She did not like any of us to use bad language, in any shape or form.
Kids, will be kids, and every so often a “new” word we learned on the streets would pop out. Olga’s way of making sure we “forgot” that word was to wash our mouths out with soap—real soap! My aunt, small as she was, could make her point! While it wasn’t humorous then, I think back now about this tiny lady with three young boys, all at least a foot or two taller that she was, and fifty to a hundred pound heavier, having their heads pulled down and mouths washed out, by this very determined, and angry, little Danish lady.
Our Scandinavian store was packed for the holidays. When I hit twelve years of age I was considered old enough to pull my weight and stay home. I remember getting up early in the morning, Grandma (Mom’s mother lived with us) would give me breakfast. My parents would already be in the store – remember my Dad had it built on the front lawn of our home, so you walked down the front stairs and opened the back door of the store.
All day I worked as an extra salesperson, a stock and clean up boy into the evening until they sent me to bed at nine or ten, they continued working often into the wee hours. The store had to be stocked, cleaned, food prepared, for business the next day. As a kid I was proud that Dad and Mom trusted me and depended on me to work and help them, I also remember never being so tired each evening. Hey, I was a strong kid, no weakling, but twelve hours a day of work, usually under the pressure of taking care of customers that had to wait for hours and were not always nice about it would tear down anyone. Sometimes they would give me a lot of guff that they would never dare to give my Mom or Pop or the elder clerks.
The small store had 100 numbers in a holder at the door, customers when they came in had to take a number, often the numbers would run out, meaning that more than a hundred customers were waiting to be served. With only room for five sales clerks behind the counters, often there would be a two hour wait for a customer to be served.
The tavern owner on the corner loved it! A lot of customers, mostly guys, would take a number then yell to my Dad, “How long a wait Andy?” Dad would yell back whatever he figured would be about right, and then they would walk up to the corner bar and have a few while they waited. The Tavern’s supply of “Akvivit” (I call it Danish “white lightning!”) and beer often took a beating! We had a hundred numbers out so the boys had plenty of time to enjoy a bit of Christmas ‘cheer.’ The small store of no more than 1,000 square feet, with Mom, Dad, me, and several temporary clerks was packed from morning until closing at eight P. M. The last customer usually not leaving until after nine. Dad and Mom were not as strict about this closing stuff as I would have liked. If a customer knocked on the glass after closing and begged to come in they would open and let him or her in and serve them. Pissed me off, cause their kid was tired, but it was money that had to be made, often I had to wait on them so Dad and Mom could continue work cleaning up, filling shelves and the deli case, etc.
Dane’s, Swede’s, and Norwegian’s are great customers, even more so when they have had five or six drinks, they are fun and very happy – as long as they are not crossed in any way. “How many pounds of this cheese would you like sir?” Normally, they may say a pound or so, but with their male horizons expanded, so to speak, they may well say “give me the whole loaf!”(6 to 10 lb. of cheese). Some of our biggest sales were made at times like this, to these Nordic free spirits!
One thing you don’t do with the Scandinavians, especially these males, these big Nordic’s from Viking stock – is argue with them, especially when they are flying a little high. “Hans are you sure you need ten of these big Iceland salt herring?” (Now when his wife comes in they never buy more than two!) With that cool Nordic stare, Hans seems to feel that his male hood is being challenged. Hans says “I said ten, didn’t I!” Dad said “never argue.”
Several things usually happened in situations like this. First, his wife is going to give him hell when he got home, because she has to clean and pickle or fix all those smelly fish. Second, she may phone and raise hell with my mother, father, or I for letting him have all those herring. (Of course it was our fault! We should know better than letting Hans have that much!) Or last she may make big Hans come back with his tail between his legs, quite sober now, with the tongue lashing he just got, and return the extra herring for a refund.
Nordic males are no different than other males, the pants are usually worn by that cute little wife in the kitchen that will take no crap from him or anyone else.
The Scandinavian women of those days seemed to know how to handle their men! Always remember, never argue with a six foot plus, two hundred and fifty pound, hard as a rock, square head that is three sheets to the wind, it doesn’t pay! His wife may be able to settle him down, but you better not try! This was my Dad’s rule number one, and he was right!
Except for the huge holiday season the store was fairly slow during the rest of the year. All our huge business came from that period of time. Scandinavians may forget their Scandinavian ancestry during the year but at Christmas they remember big time. Then they want all the goodies to eat that they remembered from their homeland in Denmark, Norway or Sweden.
Saturday was the big day for the store during the rest of the year – we were closed Sundays. Thursday evenings when the Danish Brotherhood met at the Danish Hall across the street was the one really busy weekday evening. Early Thursday evening most of the Danish ‘brothers’ tried to buy as much as they could from Andy. Cheese, pumpernickel, liver pate, rullepolse (rolled lamb), everything for the next weeks lunches their wives packed for them. All of the brothers would be in a hurry to get to the drinking session that preceded the meeting – you had to work fast.
My job those evenings was to stand in front of the store. As the cars drove up the brothers would hand over their car keys as they entered the store. As quick as possible the car trunk had to be opened and all the empty beer cases removed and carried around the back of the store, and on the return trip the car trunk filled with full cases of that same brand of beer. Then run into the store to Mr. Jensen, Mr. Hansen, Mr. Christensen or who’s ever car it was and return the keys, then back to my station for the next car rolling up. The no deposit bottle of today was not heard of then. Each beer bottle was a deposit bottle, so they were returned for the deposit value. I do not ever remember having to tell Dad how many cases I put in the car. The brothers told Andy how many empties they had, and they were charged for the refills, Dad never asked me to verify what the customer said. Never would a brother cheat a brother. Try running a business now days like that and see how successful you are! One thing about the Scandinavians then was that they may watch their money very carefully but they would never cheat or be dishonest, just was not done.
By seven on those Thursday nights of the Danish brotherhood meetings, Mom and I would take over and off would go Dad’s apron. At a near run he would take off across the street to catch up with the boys. By then they were probably a few rounds ahead of him. It was time to tell stories, have fun, a few drinks and play a little poker after the meeting.
I have to say here that Dad was about the best poker player there was, he had learned some hard lessons as a kid working on a cattle ranch in Nevada, lessons he never forgot. The Danish brothers called him “Lucky Andy” why? Because he seldom lost in a game of cards, often he would come home late with his pockets stuffed with money.
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