My Life Planned and Unplanned

By W. G. Wedan

My Life Planned and Unplanned is the book title, but it is the unplanned part of my life that I could not have imagined during my youth in Galesburg, Illinois. As the son of Swedish immigrants and from a large family, I couldnt envisage much of a future. They were the Depression years. Those families that had positions with the CB&Q or the Santa Fe railroads seemed not to be affected. Those in construction, especially of houses, were, and drastically! Construction had come to an abrupt halt. Home builders, like my father, had to be content with the occasional small repair jobs. The help of my older brother Lewis and my sisters Ellyn, Dodney, and Carole were a great aid to my parents. I sold magazines door-to-door and later had newspaper routes, along with my brother Carl. After finishing high school, together with a friend, I earned my tuition for a year of business college doing maintenance work of that school. After a year of working experience, I joined my two brothers in the military service in World War II. We had been attacked as a nation, and everyone seemed to accept the war and sacrifices to bring it to a successful conclusion.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 31, 2015
• ISBN: 9781499074215

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Copyright © 2015 by W. G. Bill Wedan.

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Rev. date: 01/28/2015

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Contents

Foreword

Acknowledgments

Preface

Early Family History

Wisconsin 1918

The War Years

January 1, 1943

January 5, 1943

January 6, 1943

January 7-February 10, 1943

February 11-15, 1943

February 16, 1943

February 18, 1943

February 19-April 14, 1943

April 3, 1943

April 10, 1943

April 15, 1943

April 16, 1943

April 17, 1943

April 18, 1943

April 19, 1943

April 20, 1943

April 21, 1943

April 22, 1943

April 23, 1943

April 24, 1943

April 25, 1943

April 26, 1943

April 27, 1943

May 1, 1943

May 4, 1943

May 5, 1943

May 6, 1943

May 7, 1943

May 8, 1943

May 9, 1943

May 10, 1943

May 11, 1943

May 12, 1943

May 15, 1943 (Mt Farm England)

May 16, 1943

May 28, 1943

June 2, 1943

June 9, 1943

June 16, 1943

June 19, 1943

June 20, 1943

June 21, 1943

June 22, 1943

July 9, 1943

July 10, 1943

July-August 1943

September 1-16, 1943

September 17, 1943

September 20, 1943

September 21, 1943

September 24, 1943

October 3, 1943

October 6, 1943

October 27, 1943

November 3, 1943

November 8, 1943

November l0, 1943

December 3, 1943

December 10,1943

December 18, 1943

December 22, 1943

December 25, 1943

December 31, 1943

January 4, 1944

January 5, 1944

January 11, 1944

January 18, 1944

March 2, 1944

March 21, 1944

March 25, 1944

April 4, 1944

April 6, 1944

April 8, 1944

April 15, 1944

April 17, 1944

April 24, 1944

April 27, 1944

May 1, 1944

May 6, 1944

May 7, 1944

May 15, 1944

May 27, 1944

June 3, 1944

June 5, 1944

June 6, 1944

June 10, 1944

June 15, 1944

June 27, 1944

June 30, 1944

July 1, 1944

July 2, 1944

July 3, 1944

July 4, 1944

July 5, 1944

July 7, 1944

July 9, 1944

July 10, 1944

July 11, 1944

July 12, 1944

July 14, 1944

July 15, 1944

July 19, 1944

July 21, 1944

July 29, 1944

July 31, 1944

August 7, 1944

August 16, 1944

August 20, 1944

August 28, 1944

August 30, 1944

September 6, 1944

September 7, 1944

September 9, 1944

September 19, 1944

September 29, 1944

October 3, 1944

October 7, 1944

October 9, 1944

October 10, 1944

October 23, 1944

October 25, 1944

November 2, 1944

November 18, 1944, Sunday

November 26, 1944

November-December

December 28, 1944

December 29, 1944

January 1, 1945

January 5, 1945

January 9, 1945

February 1, 1945

February 16, 1945

February 21-23, 1945

March 1, 1945

March 2, 1945

March 15, 1945

March 18, 1945

April 11, 1945

April 12-13, 1945

April 14, 1945

April 18, 1945

April 25, 1945

April 27, 1945

April 29, 1945

May 7, 1945

May 9, 1945

May 10, 1945

May 13, 1945

May 16-17, 1945

May 18, 1945

May 24, 1945

June 1, 1945

June 14, 1945

June 18, 1945

June 20, 1945

June 22, 1945

June 23, 1945

June 26, 1945

June 28, 1945

June 30, 1945

July 1, 1945

July 3, 1945

July 4, 1945

July 6, 1945

July 10, 1945

July 11, 1945

July 13, 1945

July 23, 1945

July 26, 1945

August 2, 1945

August 3, 1945

August 4, 1945

August 5, 1945

August 6, 1945

August 7, 1945

August 8, 1945

August 14, 1945

August 15, 1945

August 16, 1945

August 17, 1945

August 18, 1945

August 19, 1945

August 24, 1945

August 25-September 3, 1945

September 3, 1945

September 6, 1945

September 7, 1945

September 8, 1945

October 26, 1945

October 31, 1945

November 1, 1945

University Years

Morocco 1950-1957:

1953-54

Iran, 1957

Iran 1958-1962

Iran Trip to Jerusalem 1959

Cairo, Egypt, April 1959

Flight to Ind ia: 1962

April-May 1962

Japan, April-May 1962

Back across the Ocean

Paris 1963

Holland, The Hague and Terneuzen Offices

My Mother Returns To Her Homeland Again

Holland to Sweden, 1964

London and Birmingham, 1968-69

Spain

December 1964

In memory of my parents,

Martha Albertina and Swen August Wedan

FOREWORD

A s an only child of older parents and spending most of my youth with older adults, some of my most memorable experiences included hearing of the travels and adventures of Wilbur, now as an adult we call him Bill. Our hometown of Galesburg, IL has had our share of heroes and history. However, for me, Wilbur’s annual or semi-annual trip home was what childhood dreams are made of and quite possibly helped me develop a more global perspective on my profession and life in general.

Wilbur’s family and mine go back a couple of generations and with his grandfather and my great-grandfather both emigrating from Sweden to Galesburg, I feel so fortunate that with over 30 years difference in age our friendship has continued throughout my life. My mom and Bill were in school together, my great aunt and mom kept our families connected through the years and now my wife had the opportunity to help Bill write this book and share some of his stories with the rest of the world.

As a school child, I would learn about different parts of the world, and when Wilbur came home he would share real life stories about the places I had learned about. He shared war stories from before I was born but the stories I was most interested in were his professional life and friends that he made around the world. I just couldn’t imagine a Galesburg Boy living such an interesting life.

For several years, on his annual trip to Galesburg, recreating the stories I had heard as a child, we encouraged Bill to write this book. Then we visited him in Spain and discovered how well he had chronicled his life. Sitting in his small apartment in Reus, and driving across the countryside of Spain meeting his famous and unfamous Spanish and French friends, listening to him share the stories, looking through the letters he had written home to his mother during WWII, we would ask him the question. How is it a boy from Galesburg, Illinois, comes to know the royalty of Sweden, or how is it a boy from Galesburg, Illinois hung out with the royalty of Iran in the 1950’s….we asked hundreds of questions like this and we heard two common phrases: well that is an interesting story and that happened quite by accident". We realized that one thing was for sure, Bill has been a successful ambassador for America his entire life.

Most everyone agrees that success is no accident; it takes hard work and/or a master plan. I’m not sure if Bill had a master plan of his life as a child growing up in Galesburg. Clearly he positioned himself through education, professional expertise, hard work and personal flare to deliver a most interesting life that he now has shared with the world. For me, my children and grandchildren will have the opportunity to better understand a most interesting gentleman that I’ve been blessed to call a friend and extended family member. And for you, the reader, just maybe you’ll be inspired to position yourself to have those accidental successes in life.

Dr. Peter Kehoe,

Past President American Optometric Association

2008-2009

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

M y early years growing up in the Berrien-Locust Street area of Galesburg, Illinois, was a great influence on my future life. They were the Depression years. I was the sixth of eight children. At an early age, I realized that if I wanted something, I would have to earn the money to pay for it selling magazines and later having newspaper routes. However, I still found time for swimming at Lake Storey, baseball, bicycling, and hikes in the country, usually with neighbor Jack West and brother Carl but often joined by other friends. Jack, a good student who also excelled in sports, was a very positive influence on my life, as were my other friends to a somewhat lesser degree.

An older cousin, Robert Hawkinson, gave me most of his childhood books, which started me on a lifelong interest in reading. I was fortunate, too, in attending the same schools (Weston Grade, Galesburg High, and Brown’s Business College) with George Kenney. George, a brilliant student, was a great inspiration and made me feel that all was possible with study and perseverance. Of course, I owe a great deal to my teachers, especially those at Brown’s Business College, Westminster College, Knox College, and those in Paris while I was on the University of Maryland’s Graduate Year Abroad.

During a visit to Spain by Melissa and Dr. Peter Kehoe in May of 2009, while answering questions about my experiences in World War II and the various countries where I worked, Melissa thought I should write about my life for there were unusual incidents that would be of general interest and should be recorded. On return trips to the United States, Melissa and I talked of this again. In the summer of 2011, I started going through my World War II and other letters that my mother had saved and showed them to Melissa. It was decided then that I should start writing. When I returned to Galesburg in 2012, I brought letters, pictures, documents, and what I had written to date. Melissa and Meera Deoras agreed to help me in this rather complicated project. It was decided that the carpeted apartment in the Deoras basement would be our center for compiling and editing.

Special thanks to Melissa Kehoe and Meera Deoras for their many hours on the computer typing and editing, as well as their aid in organizing the layout of sections and chapters. In Spain, thanks to Gloria Garcia for the many hours of transcribing into the computer and flash the many pages of my left-handed scribbling. I want to also thank Donna Davis for the use of two pictures taken by her father, Edwin L. Shively, of concentration-camp horror and huge stacks of mail. Also thanks to my niece Sandra Mang, her daughter Jessica and husband Scott Morris for their aid in editing and the sending of approved texts to the publisher and to Benita and David Moor for their helpful advice in the procedures to follow before selecting a publisher.

PREFACE

M y Life Planned and Unplanned is the book title, but it is the unplanned part of my life that I could not have imagined during my youth in Galesburg, Illinois. As the son of Swedish immigrants and from a large family, I couldn’t envisage much of a future. They were the Depression years. Those families that had positions with the CB&Q or the Santa Fe railroads seemed not to be affected. Those in construction, especially of houses, were, and drastically! Construction had come to an abrupt halt. Home builders, like my father, had to be content with the occasional small repair jobs. The help of my older brother Lewis and my sisters Ellyn, Dodney, and Carole were a great aid to my parents. I sold magazines door-to-door and later had newspaper routes, along with my brother Carl. After finishing high school, together with a friend, I earned my tuition for a year of business college doing maintenance work of that school. After a year of working experience, I joined my two brothers in the military service in World War II. We had been attacked as a nation, and everyone seemed to accept the war and sacrifices to bring it to a successful conclusion.

I kept a journal during the war years and also wrote letters in detail to my parents. I continued this to some extent during my college-university, as well as working, years. These letters were preserved. As I reread them years later, the memories, almost forgotten, returned, of places, experiences, people, events, and situations that would otherwise have gone into oblivion. I feel that I have been fortunate in meeting good, caring, kind, and sympathetic people from all walks of life. There are places that I have revisited or would like to revisit and others that I was thankful for the experience but not among my fondest memories. There were great tragedies in World War II apart from the horrors of the concentration camps, one in particular of which I had firsthand knowledge—the destruction of a small village and the killing of over fifty men, taken at random, in retaliation for the death of a German captain by the French underground. This occurred shortly before our arrival in the vicinity of this village. I talked with a lady who had lost her husband, a brother, and a cousin in this atrocious retaliation. On Christmas Day, we arranged for all the children of this village to have a Christmas dinner with small gifts and candy in our camp. Inadequate, but at least a bit of sunlight in their drab little lives.

In France, England, Spain, Holland, Morocco, Iran, and during my travels in other European countries, as well as Asian countries, I felt at ease with the people I met. There were always subjects and views of agreement, and no one stepped on the other’s toes. It was a period in time when Americans were more liked than disliked. Values I acquired from family and acquaintances during my youth were always with me. Experiences were shared, and many lifelong friendships were made with people of very diverse backgrounds. Probably one of the most important things I learned during this journey through life is that we are one world and we have to live together with the necessary exchange of views and strive for a world free of disease, good living conditions, and education made available to all.

EARLY FAMILY HISTORY

B oth of my parents, Swen Nelson, later Swen Wedan, and Martha Augustsdotter, were born in Småland, Sweden. My mother was born near Gränna, Jönköping, on a 100-hectare farm (about 250 acres) called Siklemolen. We never knew our maternal grandparents, August Ludwig Svensson and Albertina Matilda Petersdotter, since they died when my mother was very young. She was two and a half when her mother died and fifteen when her father died. She lived with her maternal uncle by the name of Augustsson until she left for America at the age of eighteen to live with her brother Emil and wife Hulda Swanson in Galesburg, Illinois. My father was born in Kristola, in northern Småland. My father’s family name was Nelson. He changed it in Galesburg before his marriage since his brother-in-law had the same name, that is, Swen Nelson. Their mail was continually mixed since both lived in Galesburg. For that reason, my father changed his name to Wedan.

There was a great deal of sadness in the early life of my mother. Her mother died of cancer when she was only a toddler. Her brother Reynold was blinded by dynamite while working for the Swedish railroad and then was cared for by his sister Emma and family. Another brother, Efriam, was killed when he was playing and fell from a tree on the farm. Her sister, Elin Matilda, who had left for America to join her brother Emil, died in Evanston, Illinois, of pneumonia, a few years after her arrival. I remember my mother telling me that she was sitting at the kitchen table with her father when a package arrived with items belonging to her sister Elin. Knowing that she had died, they couldn’t open the package. They both cried. Just two years later, her father was injured fatally while plowing one of the fields on the farm. She then went to live with one of her uncles, who had a farm with a lake. His wife was not unkind, but my mother felt like she was being used as a servant. They had a son, and my mother remembered him as being a bit spoiled. A half century later, on my mother’s return to Sweden, we were received in the home of this son, his very nice wife, and daughter.

My paternal grandparents were Nils Fredrich Erikson and Johanna Sofia Johansdotter. They were the parents of six children: my father, Swen Nelson, his brother Carl and sisters Sofia, Anna, Hannah, and Ellen. When Ellen, Aunt Ella, the youngest, decided that she wanted to join her brothers and sisters in America, my grandparents said that they too would leave Sweden. My father and Aunt Ella’s husband, Charles Hawkinson, built my grandparents a home on Dudley Street, between Kellogg and Seminary Streets, in Galesburg, Illinois. That home still exists in Galesburg but was moved to Seminary Street, just south of the former Tiboni store facing Dudley Street. I never knew them since I was four years old when they died. I also never knew my aunt Anna or my Uncle Carl, although I did know Anna’s children who were a generation older in age. They were Harold, Esther, and two other daughters whom I saw at an early age but do not remember their names. One was married to a Swedish Canadian by the name of Kjelander. Her husband owned thousands of hectares of wheat land as well as a granary in Virgina, Saskatchewan, Canada. The other daughter was married to a French Canadian. Both had several children. Aunt Sofia married Nels Hultgren and had three children: Ellen, Betsey, and Ralph. Aunt Hannah married Swen Nelson and had seven daughters: Agnes, Eileen, Ruth, Harriet, Olga, Elsie, and Frances. Aunt Ella (Ellen) married Charles Hawkinson. They had five children: Alyce, Wilfred (Willie), Richard (father of my cousins Charlene Binek and Chris Daniel), Maryon (who died at the age of twenty), and Robert. Uncle Carl and wife Anna had no descendants. Uncle Charles Hawkinson was the owner of Hawkinson’s Manufacturing Company in Galesburg, Illinois, and built the Meadow Gold Complex on the corner of S. Chambers and Simmons Streets. This is now the Discovery Depot museum for children. My sister Ellyn was the largest individual donor to help this museum get underway in memory of our Uncle Charles.

My parents met in Monmouth, Illinois. I and seven siblings were all born Stateside. The eldest, Ellyn Marie Ingaborg, was born in Monmouth; Dodney Amanda Amelia, Brother Lewis Reynold, and Carole Anne were born in Galesburg. Carl Julius and I were born in Crandon, Wisconsin. Alyce Maryon and Gloria Anne were born in Galesburg on our return from Wisconsin. My father, who was a contractor and builder, had information about a building boom around Lake Metonga, in Crandon, Wisconsin. Crandon was becoming a prosperous town on the lower edge of this beautiful lake and needed home-building contractors in this area, with a promising resort and touristic future.

Wisconsin 1918

With four children aged eight years to six months—Ellyn, Dodney, Lewis, and Carole—the Wedan family left Galesburg for Crandon, Wisconsin. My father built many houses in Crandon and around the beautiful Lake Metonga, as well as a school, a farmhouse, and a barn during the seven years we lived there. He had brought my mother’s brother Emil Swanson and wife Hulda and his brother-in-law Swen Nelson and wife Hannah and family from Galesburg to work with him. He also had several other men working in his construction company.

By 1919, he started a home for the family on Siding One, a sort of a suburb of Crandon; this was in his spare time. He also built homes in the same area for my Uncle Emil and wife Hulda and my Uncle Swen and Aunt Hannah, aided by them. They only paid for the materials such as bricks, cement, boards, etc., used in the construction of their homes. Everyone was prospering. The older Wedan children made many friends and attended the school built by my father. One evening, Ellyn was invited to stay overnight at the home of a girlfriend. My father was very strict. It was a cold winter’s night and he said a definite no. The next day, they learned that there had been a fire at that house and the entire family perished. It was probably caused by a spark from the chimney. My mother’s closest friend was Mrs. Sipple, who was a former schoolteacher. There were several children in that family, and they were good friends of Ellyn, Dodney, Lewis, and Carole.

By the year 1925, the economy in the area was already showing signs of a slowdown; and near the end of that year, there was no construction at all. My father tried to sell our home, but there were no buyers. It was the worst economic situation possible. The house was abandoned. How to transport the family, now with six children, back to Galesburg? With little money, my father was faced with the problem of transporting my mother and six children back to Galesburg. The solution came with a former hearse that he bought for a low price. They were able to put all personal belongings and, I assume, some household furniture, probably latched to the roof; and with the entire family inside, they drove back to Galesburg. Apparently the trip went smoothly. The grapes of wrath of the Wedan family! We rented a house on Brooks Street, just opposite the fire station, but slightly west. My parents immediately disposed of our transport vehicle. Our Nelson relatives stayed on, but eventually, most of that family moved to Chicago, aided by the elder sister, Cousin Agnes.

In the late 1990s, I returned to Crandon, Wisconsin. Glen Sipple took me to where our home once stood. There was only the foundation and the cellar left standing. He said that as soon as the family left in 1925, people went to the house, stole the electric generator, all heavy appliances, windows, doors, tore up the hardwood floors, and in general, cannibalized the house. They even stole the roofing! I know my father returned, hoping to sell the house eventually, and I can imagine what he must have felt at that time.

I visited Wisconsin in the 1980’s alone, and then again in the early fall of 1994. On September 7, of that year, my sister Dodney, Carl and wife, Bette, left Chicago at 6:00 a.m. for a short visit to Crandon, Wisconsin, where our family lived for almost eight years. Crandon was also the birthplace of my brother Carl and me. We drove through the Menominee and Mole Lake Indian reservations, the latter only ten miles from Crandon. We took the only suite at the Lakeside Motel and proceeded almost at once to explore the town and the beautiful Lake Metonga. I was the guide since I had visited Crandon on my own, eight or nine years ago and had made contact with family friends and also the Mattson family, who is related by marriage to cousins. This was, however, Dodney and Carl’s only visit since the family had moved back to Galesburg when I was a toddler. We met with Wanda Mattson, Ada Sipple Fraley, and another friend of Dodney, Joe Westameyer. Wanda invited all of these childhood friends of the family to a marvelous breakfast in her beautiful home. Another highlight was the visit with Mrs. Golda Atkins Jones, who was the teacher of Ellyn, Dodney, Carole, and my brother, Lewis. Although partially confined to a wheelchair, she was alert and, I was sure, enjoyed this visit as much as we did. She had not had a college education, for in those days, it was possible for exceptional students to teach with only a high school diploma.

Our first night in Crandon also marked the birthday of Carl, which we celebrated at the Metonga Supper Club, the equivalent of Galesburg’s Jumers, with excellent food and an elegant and friendly atmosphere. We made it our restaurant for the stay. The following day, we searched, in vain, for the remains of our home, which I had seen on the previous visit. Too much overgrowth, but we did put foot on our former land, which was still known as the Wedan Property since my father had the original deed. About a mile from our former property was a large bungalow and barn, built by my father in 1921. This house was a replica of our former house since the original owners saw our home and asked my father to build the same for them. The barn was a very large one, and the present occupants of the house told us it was as sturdy as the day it was built.

My older sisters didn’t like Wisconsin. I recall Dodney saying, Returning to Galesburg was like paradise! I have absolutely no recollection of Wisconsin, but I do remember a few instances of that year in the rented house on Brooks Street. Our credit was not affected so my father began immediately to build a home for us at 1249 East Berrien Street. Alyce Maryon and Gloria Ann Martha were born while we lived at this address.

Crandon is a beautiful town, on the banks of a large clear-water lake, surrounded by woods. During 1994, Crandon suffered from the recession, and the summer of 1994 was especially bad for tourism, with only a few days of the usual sunny warm weather. Real estate values had plummeted, and unemployment was high. One evening, we visited the casino at the Mole Lake Indian reservation. It was like other gambling establishments, but with Indian attendants and state troopers at the door. I’m sure it was a profitable affair for the original Americans, and I hope it was used for the good of all at the reservation. Nineteen ninety-four was also a year of weddings for our family. My nephew William Trevor Swen Wedan was married to Christine Woolsey in Chicago in September. And my great-nephew Jeffery Slichta was married in June, at Salt Lake City, Utah, to Marcia Matheson, with a ring ceremony and reception in Rochester, New York.

I don’t know why my father decided to build on Berrien Street, but for the neighborhood, and the neighbors, he couldn’t have chosen a better location. My earliest school friends included Jack West, who became a well-known Florida architect. Lloyd Mason became a prominent Chicago patent lawyer. Lloyd’s sister, Beverly Richardson, went on to obtain a doctorate in occupational therapy and started a company that sold apparatuses that she invented. Bob Peck became superintendent of county schools, and Jack Larson, one of Galesburg’s most-liked citizens, became an inspirational speaker and a radio commentator of America’s best popular music. Other good friends included George Skip Carlson, Bob Wright, Alvin Curtiss, Earl Jerry Eaves, Louis Vitali, Eugene Frankenburger, Shirley and Harriet Haines, Marjorie Wilbur, Juanita Smith, and Marjorie Kimpton Newcomer. The Vitali family lived directly across the street from us and our families had many members of corresponding ages, so we were all close friends.

One of my earliest memories of evenings when I would hear only Swedish spoken was when I accompanied my parents on visits to the Palmquist home in the 1500 block of East Losey Street in Galesburg. Our family lived in a beautiful Victorian home with a wraparound porch just a few doors west of the Palmquists before I was born. Mrs. Palmquist was a widow living with her daughter Laura in their family home. Her son Walter and her daughter Ruth and husband Charles Munson were also often present and occasionally June Melich (Dr. Peter Kehoe’s mother), Ruth’s daughter by a previous marriage would be there along with Ruth and Charles’s son Peter. Sometimes I would just sit and listen to the friendly chatter of the older adults, not really understanding but enjoying the music-like quality of the language of my ancestors. One evening, I realized that I was understanding what they were saying, and I wondered if they were not mixing a bit of English with their Swedish. Later, I learned that many Scandinavian words came into the English language through the many invasions of England by the Vikings, also the French words that came into both languages through a Frenchman who became a Swedish king (King Bernadotte, a former French general in the time of Napoleon) and the French that was spoken by the aristocrats in England. There was also a great deal of Swedish spoken with my aunts, uncles, and friends of my parents. I have always regretted that Swedish lessons were not given in the many Swedish churches in Galesburg, especially when I visited my Swedish cousins during my many trips to Sweden while working in Europe.

I attended Grubb School for the first and second grades; Weston School, third through sixth grades; and Lombard Junior High School, seventh through ninth grades. Then I went on to Galesburg High School and Brown’s Business College before my involvement in WWII.

I remember that I spent more of my leisure time in my preteens through high school years trying to earn money to buy things that most of my friends, who were from smaller families, received automatically from their parents. At approximately the age of eleven, I heard about a house on Division Street that received and distributed magazines. I went there; and they supplied me with a magazine bag and several copies of Liberty, True Story, Cosmopolitan, Colliers, and other magazines. I would spend most of my Saturdays going door-to-door and was content if I earned fifty cents or, on an exceptionally good day, a bit more. By my last year in junior high, I also shared an evening paper route with my brother, Carl. We earned $1.35 a week, 67¢ each, and we would buy a penny candy and split it, usually a licorice stick. During my sophomore and junior year in high school, I also had a morning Peoria Journal-Transcript route, as well as an evening Register-Mail route. For the morning route, I was up before 6:00 a.m., rode my bike to the public square to the Journal office, and distributed the Journal in the northeastern section of the city, before returning home to get ready for school. This route was much more profitable since I collected for the paper on weekends as well. We had a very good magazine offer to go along with a new Journal subscription. During a one-year period, due to the many new orders that I obtained, I had to split my route twice, making three different routes for an additional two carriers.

During my senior year in high school, I left both the Journal and Register routes, for I had two other jobs. I was sweeping the Chicago Motor Club office, dusting the desks and counters before school in the morning, and working for the Ted Grothe Shoe Store after school, the former through my sister Ellyn and the latter through a friend and neighbor, Gene Frankenburger.

In my final year at Galesburg High School, my sister Alyce, at fifteen years of age, died at the Galesburg Cottage Hospital due to a faulty heart valve and failed kidney caused by rheumatic fever that she had had from a very early age. Rheumatic fever is due to a common organism, a streptococcus, found in the throat but kept at bay by normal body defenses. Today, if infected, antibiotics commonly affect a cure. In the 1930s, many children suffered from rheumatic fever, and the only treatment available was bed rest and aspirin. Patients suffered from swelling of joints and other problems affecting the heart valves and kidneys. All my sisters were very attractive, but she was the most beautiful with her perfect features, blond hair and blue eyes. Our entire family was devastated, including cousins, aunts, and uncles, and especially the Hawkinsons and Gordons, with whom she had spent many weekends. I don’t know how I was able to finish my final year of high school. There were many similar cases in Galesburg and throughout the country. My cousin Maryon Hawkinson and good friend Jack Larson’s brother also died from the effects of rheumatic fever, among many others. The following is a letter Alyce wrote to our sister Carole and her husband Max who lived on a farm in Metamora, Illinois, at the time. Whenever I read this letter, it brings tears to my eyes. The innocence, the hope, and the joy in this wonderful little sister of ours is incredible. She, of course, had no idea that she would die shortly after this letter was written.

Dear Carole & Max,

How are you? I am just fine all except a cold. The Dr. said my heart is not better of course, but it can’t be any better with me coughing all the time. This is just a little note to say hello. The Dr. thinks I look better so don’t worry. The family is fine. I thought I had better write and see how you are and I am sending a picture of myself to you. It isn’t a very good picture of me though. How do you like your new house! Lewis has the car now but I haven’t seen it yet because I haven’t been out doors any. Only last Sunday, I went for a ride in Stuart & Alyce Gordon’s new car. Do you still have Judge? (The dog). Has Mickey been found yet? (The cat) How is the pony? How are you and Max? Can you come over sometime soon? I am writing this in bed so it isn’t very readable is it? Don’t you think this card is cute, I do! I get a new hat for Easter and Alyce (Gordon) said if I gain five pounds, I can get a pair of Saddle Oxfords. I think they’re cute don’t you, so I am trying to gain those five pounds. Mr. Gordon is in the hospital. He is a lot better now though. One day he was pretty bad off. They didn’t know whether he would pull through or not, then he did and is getting along fine. Will you and Max try and just come up some day won’t you?

Lots of Love, Dona

Con-a-mo-re In French means, Lots and Lots of Love. Your loving sister Dona

Now don’t you worry about me! Because the Dr. thinks I’ll be able to be up a little next week!

Here are some kisses and hugs for you

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

XXXXXXXXXXXX

OOOOOOOOOOOO

P.S. Write real soon Love Dona

(My sister Alyce gave herself the nickname Dona. When she was a little girl, there was a plant called a Bena plant, and she broke it one day and said, Dona broke the Bena.)

After graduating from high school, through a friend, George Kenney, I obtained free entrance to study at Browns Business College by working with George as maintenance engineers of the college. Later, George became a top-ranking diplomat. A few years ago, he told me that at most receptions, he outranked a major general. We had to do quite a bit, but it was well worth the trouble and George was a very agreeable coworker. We both finished and graduated with secretarial accounting diplomas. George had graduated from high school in the National Honor Society and I was playing catch-up.

Through my sister Ellyn’s husband, Russell Schmith, I was hired by the CB&Q railroad to work in their Hannibal, Missouri, office. After one month, I was transferred to their main office on the eleventh floor of the Burlington Building in Chicago. There I went to work for a Mr. Lamb, who was responsible for keeping track of all CB&Q freight shipments throughout the USA. Often, freight is transferred several times between different railroad companies. I mentioned once to Mr. Lamb that my cousin, Robert Hawkinson’s father-in-law, Mr. Hitchens, did similar work in Des Moines, Iowa. He said, Yes, I know him well. He is an expert in this very involved business. While working in Chicago, I commuted back and forth daily from Berwyn, a suburb of Chicago. This was without charge since it was a company commuter train. I was also given passes to and from Galesburg or any other destination. This was for a short time since WWII was in progress and I took my examination for the US Army Air Force in December 1941. My brother Lewis was already in Australia and was soon to leave for New Guinea, and my brother Carl was in Algeria, North Africa.

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(The Mang Family)

Back Row L to R: Bill Wedan, Jeremy Mang, Jason Mang

(Pete and Sandy’s sons), Sidney Morris, Scott Morris,

and Henry Morris.

In front of Bill is the groom Douglas Sprague and his bride Nikki Mang (daughter of Pete and Sandy), Lindsay Mang (in the Black dress and wife to Jeremy Mang), Jessica Mang Morris holding her daughter Amelia Martha. Next to the Bride are Sandra Jones Mang and her husband Peter Mang.

Bottom L to R: McKaelyn Amanda Martha Gross (daughter of Nikki Mang), Noah and Chase Gross (twin boys of Nikki Mang); the little girl in front is Audrey Mang (daughter of Jason Mang) and Dodney Amanda Amelia Wedan Jones. (Sandra Mangs’ mom)

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(The Slichta Family)

Top Row L to R: James Tripp, (his wife) Kelley Slichta Tripp, Marcia Matheson Slichta, (her husband) Jeffrey Slichta,

(Jeff’s sister) Lorey Slichta, her husband Paul, their sons’ Chris Beck and Trevor Beck.

Middle Row L to R: Jacob Tripp, Garrett Tripp (Kelley and James sons’), Karen Jones Slichta and her husband Richard Slichta, Jennifer Beck holding her son Owen (Chris Beck’s wife).

Bottom Row L to R: Brynn Tripp (Kelley and James’ daughter), Emmy Slichta, Kaden Slichta, Maryn Slichta, Adyson Slichta, (Marcia and Jeff’s daughters and son), and Kellen Beck.

(Paul and Lorey’s Son)

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Left to Right Front Row: Swen Nelson (Uncle), his wife Hanna, and Aunt Ella (Aunt Hannah holding baby.)

Back Row L to R: Uncle Charlie Hawkinson, Swen and Hanna’s kids, (fourth child is Agnus)

Photo taken at Lake Crandon, Wisconsin

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Ellen Marie (Swen’s youngest sister), Aunt Hanna (on Father’s side), Swen Nelson, Carl (brother Carl named after him), Sophie.

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Carl Nelson (Uncle),

and his wife Anna Hultgren (Sophie’s sister in law).

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Front: Ellen (cousin), Florence, Esther

Back: Annie, Aunt (Ellen Marie)

holding Rich, Bessie, and Grandma

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Gloria, Bill, Carl, Carole, Dodney, and Ellyn.

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Betty and Carl’s Wedding 1952

Gloria, Ellyn, Pop, Betty, Carl, Mom, Lewis, Dodney, Carole

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Ellyn, Dodney, and Bill (2002)

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Carole Wedan (sister) June, 1938

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Carl Wedan (brother), 1939

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Gloria Wedan (sister).

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Lewis Wedan (brother).

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