My mother is a genealogist, but it wasn't until she bought me these coasters a few months ago that I heard a detailed account of our Swedish roots. The journey to America started in a crowded tenement in Stockholm with my great, great grandfather. John Jonson worked as a bricklayer for seven years so he could afford to bring his wife Amanda to the USA. She wore her traditional clothing until she died, despite the prejudice she faced, and maintained traditions in the home.  John and Amanda had two sons: Fred, born in Sweden, and Ed, born in the USA. Fred, the eldest son, was able to speak English and took a leadership role in the family, deciding when and where to move, and what scheme to try to earn money should be tried. Fred tried over 30 professions. During the silver rush he worked the mine, applied for a homestead, planted apples, and invested in a steamboat- anything to earn money for the family. As swedes, the family was attacked and had land stolen from them. So they reserved their swedishness for inside the home and became American outside. John and Fred punished their children for speaking Swedish rather than English. One such child was my grandfather, Kenneth- a newspaper man, a member of the Elk's club, and a landlord. My mother was, as she puts it, "forced to attend Swedish Cultural School" as a child and though she did not like wearing stiff crinolines in California heat, she did love the dala horse. It reminds her of the grit of our forefathers. 

– Catherine Salthouse

Relationship:  Great-grandchild of im/migrant or more Great-grandchild of im/migrant or more