Showing posts with label genealogy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label genealogy. Show all posts

Friday, April 06, 2007

When I Was Just a Kid...Marti Kramer Suddarth

When I Was Just a Kid...

Marti Kramer Suddarth




Even as a baby Marti Suddarth was watching over children. Her whole life has centered around family and children. And because she is a fellow Hoosier, her stories seem incredibly familiar, even though I just met her a few years ago in my SALT (Struggling Artists of Literary Talent) group. Of all the memories I've collected so far, some of Marti's resonant with me. See if you don't find a familiar chord, as well. She is kind to everyone, even giving in to keep a stray dog who came to liven up their lives--Splash, The Wonder Dog, a dog of beagle persuasion.


Marti has a special talent for music and writing songs and skits to use with kids--and she is music CD reviewer, publishing reviews in various places. Her writing revolves around things to do with children. She's married to a music teacher(Daniel--22 years! and she looks like a kid still) and they have 3 children (Kate, Scott, and Abby) who all exhibit many talents that she has nurtured. Oh, and did I mention she's a teacher?


Meet Marti--whose byline is Marti Kramer Suddarth.



Childhood Ambition: When I was 3 or 4, I wanted to do the weather on TV! I saw people on TV, pointing to a map, and thought that would be fun. In grade school, I wanted to be a writer and I wanted to compose music for "Schoolhouse Rock." And now I AM a writer, and I'd still like to compose music for "Schoolhouse Rock" or something similar. And then for a while, I wanted to be a concert pianist.




Fondest Memory (then): Wow! I have so many good memories, it would be hard to pick ONE. I remember "camping out" in the living room with my brother and sisters. We'd drag our pillows and blankets into the living room and sleep there - all 5 of us. I remember stopping the Merrymobile to get ice-cream. My brother and I would each have a nickel and the Merrymobile would actually stop!My sister Emily and I used to stand in front of the mirror, singing into hairbrushes, pretending we had our own TV show like Donny & Marie! When I was in mid-to-late elementary school, my dad rode his bicycle to work, just a couple of miles from home. Every once in a while, I'd get to go out to breakfast with Dad. Mom would wake me up early, I'd get dressed, and then Dad and I would ride our bicycles to the Farmer's Daughter Restaurant for breakfast. We'd ride most of the way home together, until we had to part company. I'd go home and Dad would go to work. I'd usually get home about the time my brother and sisters were getting up to get ready for school. (Of course, they had their turns too.) I loved going out for breakfast with Dad!



Proudest Moment (now or then): I know it sounds corny, but I'm so proud of my children. What could I possibly do that would top having these three wonderful people calling me, "Mom?"



Biggest Challenge as a child or teen: I was such a geeky child. Really. I was short and skinny and covered in freckles and I had big, huge glasses. Of course, I was extremely UNathletic. I was the child who sat in the corner and read books almost as fast as I could turn the pages. So I suppose my biggest challenge is that I never felt like part of the crowd. I always felt like I was on the outside. And I guess that makes me pretty lucky, huh? Think how many people have worse problems .... health problems ... family problems ... and the worst thing I can say about my childhood was that I was a dork.




My First Job: I used to give piano lessons to several children in the neighborhood. I think I only made $2 a lesson, and I had to walk to their houses! Of course, to a seventh grader, that $2 seemed like a lot of money.




Childhood indulgence: The Merrymobile ... breakfast with Dad ... trips to the zoo with Dad. (He's such a big kid, I think he loved going as much as we did.)

Play time favorite that influenced your writing: Reading, of course. I loved reading, which lead me to want to be a writer. I loved "Schoolhouse Rock," and wanted (ok, still want) to work on projects like that. I used to listen to Keith Green's music (although that was in high school), which influenced the way I played the piano. That, in turn, influenced the way I compose, which influences the way I write.



Favorite Childhood Movie: I don't know! When I was in grade school we watched an old black and white movie called "Life with Father." (Elizabeth Taylor was a teenager, and one of the policemen from "Adam 12" was a little younger.) Some of the humor was so subtle (especially the part about the pug dog) that my brother and sisters and I loved that movie and still talk about it, even though I haven't seen it in years.

Crystal Editor's note: Marti knows more about old TV shows than anyone I know. She is a walking library. And she knows all sorts of details--in case you need an expert when you're writing. Ask her or daughter Katie about Star Trek.


Favorite Childhood Book: Laura Ingall's Wilder's "Little House" series. I read them over and over, and even now, as an adult, sometimes I feel a little nostalgic and go read them again.

Childhood hero: This'll be the third time I've mentioned this, but in the mid-1970's, I thought that the people who wrote "Schoolhouse Rock" had THE best jobs in the world!


Favorite Childhood Easter Memory: I don't know that there is a specific memory so much as remembering my Easter dresses. My mother is such an amazing seamstress ... and when I was really little, she made me dresses every year. I always thought mine were the best because everyone else had store bought dresses, but mine were made by Mom.


Crystal Editor's Note: Marti is famous in our SALT sisters group for telling stories about her family. They are really good stories. And she could not resist telling us a story about children in her life as an adult. So, because Marti is a good storyteller, I am indulging this here! (Hey, I'm the boss of this blog...)



The Kramer Sisters (brother Bill is in the baby photo above.) Marti is to the left.

And if I'm allowed into adulthood :-): Several years ago, all 5 Kramer children and their spouses and children met at Mom & Dad's for Easter weekend. Mom asked sister Nancy and Kate & Scott to color the eggs on Saturday ... pointed them out in the fridge and then left them to do the coloring. They colored ALL of the eggs in the fridge, instead of just the hard boiled ones. So the next day, not knowing which eggs were which, Mom hid all of the eggs and told everyone just to be very careful when eating the eggs later.


The egg hunt went well. The grandchildren found them all. My nephew Logan (probably 8 at the time) had a stuffed snake ... it was so long he could coil it around his neck and still have plenty of snake left to scare cousins with. He jumped out at Abby (age 4) & scared her with his snake. Abby was so startled that she dropped her basket. And that's when we found some of the raw eggs! Of course, it ruined her chocolate bunny.

Logan felt so badly about it that he gave his bunny to Abby.That was a really special memory for me because it showed what a kind, concerned young man Logan already was, and still is. He was only 8 but already understood how to show Jesus's love to other people.



Crystal Editor's note: Now, see why I love Marti? She's a genius storyteller. She should be writing Hoosier novels. Just my professional opinion.

Marti's book of children's sermons is coming out in CSS's Fall catalog. It is, as yet, untitled (though it could possibly be: Four-minute Lessons for Young Ears, Eyes, and Hearts. )


She's published with Contemporary Drama Service:
Broadcasting Christmas
Mini-Musicals for Special Days


She also has written stories in compilation books, including Chicken Soup for the Shopper's Soul.

Her CD reviews appear at http://buddyhollywood.com
(Check under Marti Kramer Suddarth.)

Red Veda's latest CD

Oh, one more thing to mention: she's a Daughter of the American Revolution and an expert in genealogy. Marti is one of the unrecognized geniuses of our time. Keep an eyeball on her.

Hot off the press! Looking for a book to help with your children's sermons? Marti has written it!


Ping-Pong Words
And 30 More Children's Sermons
By: Marti Kramer Suddarth
CSS Publishing Co., Inc.


CSS Price: $12.95

CSS Item #: 0788024841

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Coming to America: Port of Entry

Coming to America: Port of Entry
and Turn on the Oven




It is always interesting to me how people got to this country. I like to hear the stories. Around here where I live, most people's ancestors end at Grandma and Grandpa and they'll say, "Wahl, I thank my people came from North Carolina, but we been on this here land since 1832.You ain't from around here, arya?"

Now with genealogy being a hobby, some of those people have traced themselves back to the Mayflower and they belong to an exclusive Mayflower society. Wahl, I have some ancestors who met them when they got off the boat. Doesn't seem to have the same prestige. Go figure. (and my maiden name is Warren--there were Warrens on the Mayflower.)

But on my mother's side, here's the story. My grandfather, Jons Persson, lived in Skane, Sweden (Southern Sweden, so I'm Southern on both sides of the family) and was a fancy baker by trade (oh, yeah, the baking is in the "blood." Boo-ya!)

There was this guy named William Widgery Thomas who was the American Ambassador to Sweden. He turns out to be well-documented in Portland, Maine and supposedly said for his reason for bringing the Swedes over, "Besides all other reasons, I believe these honest, pious, plodding Swedes would form an excellent balance to the fickle, merry, light-hearted Irish, who are now crowding in such goodly numbers to our shores."


I don't know about you'ins, but I'm part Irish, too. I'd hate to be just be a "plodding" sort. And that sounds a little politically incorrect to me, but alas, he was a well-respected man, whose family boasts of being the first whites in their area.Hally-lew-yah. Can I get an "Amen?" No? (But don't think I'm not grateful for him, Mr. Thomas, because I am. I figure God used Mr. Thomas to get us here.)

Thomas commissioned a special boat to bring 51 special tradesmen to America and settle them in a settlement called New Sweden, Maine. My great-grandfather above was one of those guys (around 1870.)

No wonder I couldn't find him on any of the lists that have become public. Hannah was from Smaland, Sweden and they lived in New Sweden until 1882 before taking off (those wild and crazy kids!) for Minnesota. Why they would head for Minnesota just shows they wanted land. Land was for the taking after the Homestead Act. If any of you live in Minnesota, you know about the "state bird"(called mosquitos) and how it took a special breed of people to stick it out on those homesteads. My people did it.

At this time of year, I really appreciate my Swedish and Norwegian roots because those people liked food and loved Christmas. And I like food. Which proves that I have just enough Swede for food abundance appreciation with a good cuppa coffee (and enough Irish to enjoy it!) Gotta love our backgrounds. Many of the Swedes left because they were starving. And America had plenty of food. We get smorgasbord from the Swedes--and I have the recipes to prove it.

However, my favorite story from Sweden is called Godnatt, jord (Goodnight, Earth) and this isn't from my family, but hey. Some writer named Ivar Lo-Johansson (and I'm related to some Johanssons.) The character, Mikael, knew there was some glowing life out there and his hunger for it, drove him to steal money for books. This family was direly starving and he's stealing money for books. So, the Swedes were a hardy bunch, literate and had the ability to keep a buoyant spirit while being worked to death. Maybe Jons just didn't know any better.

Christmas traditions abound with the Swedes. A lot of the traditions swirl around light. It is so dark during this time of year, that even Lucia celebration (Dec. 13th) has lights. I refuse to wear candles in my hair, even if I am the oldest girl. Hot wax and the hair on my skull--not a nice combo.

Another favorite tradition at Christmas is the baking of Christmas bread. There were baskets of bread for poor, a supply for the winter months, and everyone got their own stash of bread. When they got to America where food was plenty, they didn't forget their days of scarce eating, so they baked up all kinds of breads and sampled it at will!In Sweden you were urged to eat a bite of bread with each bite of food because it was the very core of life. If you dropped your bread piece, you had to pick it up and eat it, even if someone stepped on it. This is why Hans Christian Anderson (though Danish, loved the heart of Sweden) had ol' Hansel and Gretel dropping bread crumbs like mad--it was sort of defiance.

Where Hannah was from (Smaland) they shaped their breads like birds. Oh,and you have to have seven kinds of cookies. Now, I'm going to tell you this really mean story that happened to me.

I used to participate in a cookie swap at Christmas (in another place where I lived.) I love recipes, and I loved the cookie swap! One lady there (my age) had a particularly tasty recipe for Swedish Melting Moments cookies. She was praised far and wide, and she would bake for a solid week, and freeze her cookies, getting them out for various social events. I wanted that recipe. Even though I probably had 10 recipes (and continue to search) for Swedish Melting Moments, those were really good. I'd get about one a year.

So, I asked her if I could have the recipe. I promised to only bake them for family. She said, "No problem! I'd love for you to have it." But she conveniently never gave it to me. (Believe me, I asked several times.)Now, she lives far away and I live the other far away--and I still don't have that recipe.

I still consider it annoying when people horde their recipes. I mean, I can understand it if you have a special recipe and you have a bakery or restaurant and you continue to pass it in your own family. But if you're not a "professional" making a living at it--just share it!

I've given my recipes even to bed and breakfast places who did use it for their reputation of their inn. If you die, and you die with your recipe, for which you are famous--what good were you? Now, to be fair, my mother-in-law, Imy, who is one of the best bakers ever, has tried to teach me about the fine art of pie crust--and I have her recipe. I have tried, without success to make it as good as she does. Maybe it has to do with enjoyment or the "sharing" of the delicious baked item, but I will never be able to replicate her recipe. I think it may even have to do with her hands--the size or something or maybe with her patience (which I don't always have so much of.)

I come from a baker who was brought to this country special because of his great skill at baking--and yet I haven't a single recipe from him.

Share your stories this holiday season with your families--but also share the uniqueness of the foods of your family.

(And if you have a most excellent recipe for Swedish Melting Moments, I'd love to see it...)

_______________________________________

Today's
1000 Gifts....

212. enjoying "Miracle on 34th Street" with my boys
213. excitment of the season
214. secret packages being shuffled around and the anticipation
215. great beef in the freezer from Cousin Larry's farm
216. My Aunt Mayme for writing down so many family stories and for her accuracy
217. Florida fruit orders are in! (Thanks to the high school band) We're eating "sunshine" on dark days (yum)
218. the splash of orange on my tongue when I bite into a freshly peeled section
219. the crunching sound of apples when I bite them
220. my long-suffering mailman bringing me yet another book
221. My Aunt Linda for always thinking of me
222. the thought of meeting Michelle for coffee
223. the fun discussions with the Christian Humor Writers
224. people who make me laugh
225. people sharing with me their daily strides
226. warm sunshine peeking out to keep me going during the dark days of winter
227. Christmas cards!
228. My copy of Torah, Grace and Truth: Messiah Magazine
229. The Hanukkah story in this magazine ("Shining Lights into a Kingdom of Darkness" by Michael and Sharra Badgley)
230. http://www.ffoz.org/downloads
231. Photos
232. my Robert Bateman print of the Bald Eagle
233. having passions
234. my boys and their humor
235. hugs
236. Home Sweet Home candle scent
237. the glow of candles in the dark
238. the light of the world, Jesus
239. Christmas music
240. Celtic Christmas music
241. the color sapphire blue
242. poinsettia from Melba
243. Taylor accoustic guitars
244. hearing Bryce, Max, Jordan and Tyler laughing downstairs
245. Goofy Tyler's laugh and his twinkling eyes and freckles
246. my husband's gruff beard
247. my little dog, Lizzie, doing tricks for a "cookie"
248. Folk art
249. Uncle Grant's saw painting of wood ducks
250. Uncle Grant's painting of a mill done in blues (for Millers--get it?)

Monday, December 04, 2006

Coming to America: The Perssons and Thompsons

The Perssons



On With the Story of Coming to America...


A couple days ago I revealed my mother's family's dark secret--that her grandfather was a harsh man who never mourned his children he had put into harm's way, drove his wife to shamefully filing for divorce at the turn of the century by his cruelty to her (that wasn't a common occurance where the woman left the man and divorced him,) and one other daughter being committed to one of the first mental institutions, which sprang up after Dorothea Dix campaigned for better conditions for mental patients.

This family portrait is missing a couple people--Oscar, who died in the barn fire, and Esther who died when she was overworked by lifting pails of sand from the well and died from a ruptured spleen the next day. The one lone son on the back row is my grandfather, Aaron. The daughter who would have a breakdown not long after this, Ellen, is directly behind her father. The portrait even looks as if there are missing people.

I have a similar photo of my grandmother's family. While these photographs are posed and they would have to hold still for a while, there is a stark contrast in the two families. No one is smiling in the Persson family portrait. When I study their faces, knowing what their family was going through, I see pain and sadness. Maybe bitterness, in the Persson family.


The Thompsons


On the other side, I have been told lots of sad stories from my grandmother's side, but they were a happy, giving family with many people bearing witness to their many kindnesses to people--with even many stories of kindness/neighborliness to the Indians on a nearby reservation,(the people who were despised by many, especially the ones who remembered the uprisings.) I can tell you more about them later, but look at my Great-grandfather's face, Bernt Thompson.(He the one with sparkling, friendly eyes on the front row.) I want to know him immediately.

The smallest child, and only blonde in this family, is my grandmother, Anna Thompson, who was "stolen" for a day by the local Chippewa medicine man, Mickinock, when she was just a few days old so he could show his friend's blonde-headed baby off to his people. Notice how her mother lovingly cradles her hand and leans in. This was the family who helped young Aaron Pierson when his first wife died. These are the people who tucked him safely into their family and cared for his five children, as he struggled to hang onto his farm in those mournful days after his wife's death. And their youngest daughter,Anna, two years later, is whom he fell in love with, married, had five more children with, and cherished, until her dying day ( my mother was only 5 years old when Anna died from tuberculosis.)Anna allowed Aaron's children from his first marriage to name their youngest daughter(my mother.) They picked their dead baby sister's name, Lillian Arlene. (My mother would say with a smile later that it was tough to see her own name on that baby's tombstone.)

What stories are being told in your family? In our family we love to tell stories. We laugh about the funny things that have happened, and miss the people who are gone. My kids know about Great-grandfather Aaron and the wolf thrown over his shoulder, the time the bull charged him and he flipped him over his head, and a whole bunch of stories displaying his sense of humor. (For another time.) It is important for us to tell stories. It is the best gift you can give to those around you.

Maybe you are grasping for hope right now. Maybe you are like Aaron, bitter and angry at someone in your family. Many of Aaron's sisters died, his first wife died from a tubular pregnancy just a year after they had lost a baby. He was left alone with five small children. Just when he was desperate and didn't know what to do with his children, along came the Thompsons. Did Aaron pray to God to help him? I think he probably did, as he was known as a man of God in his church and community. I'm sure things seemed pretty desperate before they got better.

You have to tell your stories. Garrison Keillor says,"We need to write, otherwise nobody will know who we are." If someone had not written down these stories that passed on to me, and if my mother had not told the stories to me as a small child, I would've never known. I wouldn't know that I came from people who had come through hard times, and could go on. These are more precious to me than anything. If you don't know your ancestors' stories, that is ok. Tell YOUR stories, the things that you have come through, the things that make you smile and cry.

_________________________________

More 1000 Gifts.....
182. Cheeseburgers from McDonald's (yeah, they are a weakness, but tasty and quick when you are hungry and out.)
183. shared laughter with Bryce and Max (my two youngest)
184. Melba, who loves us
185. the internet
186. "God-moments"--those special moments that God shares with you a thread of hope
187. seeing my "flower girl" from our wedding Saturday evening and chatting about writing! (and her precious gift--her daughter)
188. feeling the "beat" of the music on drums
189. radio--music that comes from "somewhere" and we don't even think about it, but just enjoy it
190. cute little bird ornaments I found on sale in the Hallmark shoppe while my boys were taking guitar lessons
191. chatting with the owner of the Hallmark shop about mutual friends and our families--leaving with a smile of connection
192. the great guys at the music shop who can fix any instrument and love it as much as you do
193. downtown Christmas lights
194. the quiet of the country in the early morning hours
195. email--instantly connecting with people I can't always call
196. praying for a friend I've only seen a few times who lives across the country in her moment of need
197. My Heartsong Presents historical books I got in the mail
199. My gold sweater that makes me feel almost elegant (even though I'm not!)
200. Max whistling (I know he's home and happily baking)
201. Speartoons!
202. American humor
203. Jim Watkins and his humor (Even when life gives him lemons, he knows to pray what to do with them)
204. My gold cameo ring that feels smooth on my finger
205. Healthy Hoof Treatment (a hand treatment just when I was giving up hope that my cracked, dry hands would heal and I'd tried EVERYTHING) (Oh, yeah. Figures that it is a treatment for horses' hooves...)
206. Sheryl leaving a comment and sharing joys with me
207. other people who leave comments
208. Ramona's joy over her new book
209. Cranberry-orange bread
210. smell of freshly baked cookies while I write (Max is baking again...)
211. the aroma of Christmas Punch scented candle by Yankee