Mom's funeral was held at the Evangelical Free Church in Newfolden, which is in the area of northwestern Minnesota where she spent nearly all of her life. It provided us with an opportunity to meet old friends, many of whom had Mom for a teacher, either in public school or Sunday school.
This four-generation photo was taken in the summer of 2008 when we took our daughter Sabrina, son-in-law Bryan and grandaughter Chloe to Minnesota so our families could see Chloe for the first time. The photo was taken at the nursing home where Mom spent her final years. I was given the honor of writing Mom's eulogy, which was delivered at the funeral by Pastor Gary Barrett of the Evangelical Free Church. We've received a lot of comments about it, so I decided that it would be appropriate to add it here.
EUOLOGY
Gladys Carrie Madeline Andeen was born in Foldahl Township near Argyle on May 21, 1913, to Emanuel and Hannah Andeen. She was the third oldest of seven children. When she was an infant, the family moved to a nearby farm, which is where Gladys spent her childhood.
Times were hard, though they probably didn’t realize that. It’s just the way life was back then. Everyone had to pitch in. Among other things, that meant Gladys milked the cows, carried water from the nearby well, helped with the haying and cleaned the house. And this was before the days of modern conveniences like vacuum cleaners. To get the floors clean, she would tear water-soaked newspapers into strips and spread them out on the carpet to absorb the dust and dirt. After it dried, she would sweep it all up.
Gladys attended a country school for her first eight years of education. The school was a mile and a half from their home, which meant Gladys got a three-mile walk every day. For high school, she and a friend rented an apartment in Warren, and Gladys graduated from Warren High School in 1930. Upon graduation, she enrolled in the Warren Teacher Training Department. Her first job was in a rural school near Stephen. Gladys’ teaching career lasted 12 years and included several rural schools. It was while teaching at Sunnyside School near Strandquist that she would meet her future husband, Carl Johnson. They were married on June 10, 1939.
Gladys retired from teaching to spend more time raising her two children, Judy and Roger. In 1951, she and Carl moved from the farm into Strandquist, where Carl started a service station business. After the kids were both in school, Gladys began to think about getting a part-time job. That led, initially, to a clerk position at the Strandquist Post Office.
Five years later, the Postmaster retired and recommended Gladys as her successor. The Postal Service did some checking around town to learn what people thought of her. The reports were glowing, and Gladys got the job…right in the middle of the Christmas holiday rush. In March of 1966, Strandquist experienced one of the worst snowstorms ever to hit this part of the state. For three days, it pounded the region and dropped more than two feet of snow. Nothing was moving. But Gladys still trudged through the snow to the post office just in case one of her constituents somehow couldn’t wait to buy a five-cent stamp.
Gladys remained in the position until she retired February 28, 1977.
The church was always an important part of Gladys’ life. As a teen-ager, she organized a Sunday School for children who didn’t have a church to attend. As an adult, she taught Sunday School and sang in the choir. Occasionally, she would be called to fill in playing the piano during Sunday morning services. Which she did willingly. But she had one unusual limitation. She could only play hymns written with four flats. Why that was so, she really didn’t have a good answer. It’s just the way it was. And while it did limit the pastor’s options somewhat, it always worked out.
The coffee was always on at the Johnson home, and Gladys was never without treats to offer guests, even unexpected ones. She loved to cook and bake and being unable to do so in recent years was something she dearly missed. And her family missed it too. Her fried chicken, scalloped potatoes and a variety of pies are just a few of the dishes that are legendary within the family. And when pie was served, you could be sure there would be plenty of whipped cream. When she lived at the nursing home, Gladys always looked forward to pumpkin pie but that little dollop of whipped cream on the pie was never quite enough for her.
Gladys and Carl loved to travel. That might involve something as simple as looking at the fall colors or driving to Nelson Swamp to look for moose. Or it might be a trip that took several days. But they had an unusual approach to vacation planning. Basically, it involved driving up to Highway-59 and then deciding whether to turn left or turn right. Whatever direction that was taken would determine whether they would end up in the Black Hills, Canada or some other location.
One thing Gladys wouldn’t do is fly. She was never in an airplane. But she did surprise her family in the mid-90’s when she joined Iola Rokke on an Amtrak train trip that took her half way across country to Washington state to visit Roger and his family.
Now that she is gone, Gladys’s family and friends will miss her. But they are comforted knowing that she now has strong legs, a good memory, can play hymns in any key and, right now, is probably eating a big piece of pumpkin pie…smothered in whipped cream.
