Love Story made possible by Facebook

Facebook.
It's of the devil.

Or so says all the opinion articles that have deluged my inbox lately...

Let me tell you one good thing about Facebook. Ah, Facebook, we're good friends now...I can call you FB now, right?

Anyways, it was through FB that I got reconnected with my relatives on my Dad's Dad's side of the family. {Intuitively I know the word "paternal" should be in that sentence but I couldn't make it work easily and I'm not feeling inclined to consult the online grammatical resources}.

Anyways, again.

So my Dad's paternal (?) side of the family is in Sweden. My paternal (?) grandfather immigrated as a young man to the US in the early 1900s. So, yes, my last name is scandanavian or nordic {are these the same?}...and not german or jewish as I'm often asked.

Turns out that my grandfather had quite the journey after he came to America. In many ways, he was probably more American than we are. Instead of living in "Swedetown" (I just made that up, think "Chinatown" or "Little Tokyo" but for Swedish folks) he chose to live apart from his native folk. He knew that by living with the other Swedes, he would never fully assimilate into American culture, or learn the language as quickly.

He learned English very well.

He took his citizenship test and passed. He was so proud.

He flew the American flag outside his humble home.

He once rode in a car that belonged to a prominent Chicago mafia boss.

He lost his life's savings in the banking and stock market collapses.

He lost his arm in some heavy machinery he operated for work.

He lost his job as a result. {Obviously, this was way before the ADA}

He took a job that ultimately sent him to a small, rural town in southern Arkansas where he showed up on the doorstep of my Great-grandmother asking if he could rent a room in her home. Though there were many, many rooms in her home (I saw it before it was demolished in the 1980s), somehow he was put in a room that belonged to my grandmother - who was completing her studies at the University of Arkansas {How long ago was that? Well, all I know is that she had to take a train across the state to get to school!} There's a funny story about how my grandmother returned home from college only to discover a strange man living in her room...but evidently, everything turned out alright. They fell in love and married.

Awwww! What a great story! I'm totally smiling right now. Now you can see why I'm so thankful for FB!

I love keeping up with these relatives, and have learned so so much from them! I'd really love to go visit (summertime only) sometime soon. Next year, maybe?

One of my favorite stories about my grandfather:
Shortly after he moved to the US, but before he really had chance to learn English, he went to a cafe to get some breakfast. He was seated at the counter and, since he didn't know the language, he would listen to what everyone else was ordering so that when their food would arrive, he would know what English words corresponded to the different types of breakfast foods. After about 30 minutes of people watching, my grandfather observed a man rush in and order "Bacon & eggs, in a hurry!" When the breakfast arrived, well my grandfather thought it looked mighty tasty. So, nearly 45 minutes after arriving, he was finally ready to order his very own delicious breakfast..."Bacon & eggs, in a hurry!"