Lögberg-Heimskringla - 24.02.1995, Blaðsíða 4

4 • Lögberg-Heimskringla • Föstudagur 24. febrúar 1995
IWEMORY BITES FROM HALLM
An lcelandic
Workshop in
Dance
The Calgary Scandinavian
Folkdancers are presenting an
Icelandic workshop on
March 25 - 26, 1995.
The instructor,
Minerva Jónsdóttir,
comes from Iceland (
with many years 1
of experience in )
dance instruc- ( t 1J
tion. She has wjw/y / / /14
been involved /1 ]
in the research
and publication of a ^Sr
book, the History of
Folk Dances in lceland. In addition
to her education as a physical educa-
tion and dance instructor, Minerva
spent some years in England studying
modem educational dance and later
ballroom dancing.
Registration is limited to 75 people
at $45 per person. Please register
early. Contact the Calgary Society of
Scandinavian Folk Dancers, c/o
Eileen Riisberg, 2111-9th Avenue
N.W., Calgary, Alberta, T2N 1E5 or
call Garth (403) 239-1483, Jorgen
(403) 282-3746 or by fax 261-6631
lceland’s driving concern
The Traffic Safety Council has
prepared a new multilingual
booklet called “The Art of
Driving on Icelandic Roads.” It is to
be distributed at information cen-
tres, hotels, police stations and at
Seydisfjördur, the east Iceland port
where the car ferry from Europe
calls. A companion video, intended
for viewing prior to renting a car, is
also planned.
It is hoped that this will help
reduce the incidence of accidents
occurring when visitors do not fully
appreciate special conditions
encountered on Icelandic roads.
Ambassador presents
books from US
U.S. Ambassador to Iceland
Parker Borg has presented a
contribution of 350 books by
the United States to directors of a
University of Iceland-student book
drive aiming to shore up offerings at
Iceland’s new National Library,
which opened December 1,1994.
The library, which had been under
construction since 1981, houses the
books from the University and
National libraries, as well as mod-
em music, video and geographical
departments. The latest in computer
and library science technology is on
offer, and there will be space for
conferences as weU as a restaurant
and an exhibition area. Nearly forty
years have passed since the
Icelandic parliament set in motion a
plan to combine the two libraries
under one roof, this impressive new
cradle for the nation’s literary
culture being the fruit of that long-
standing effort.
Courtesy News From lceland
The following series of memory
bites are from a boy’s memories
as he grew up in an American
Icelandic Community. The community
is the Scandinavian Community of
Ballard, which is located in the
Northwest section of the City of
Seattle. This area was attractive to
many Icelandic immigrants, because of
its industries of boat building, fishing,
lumber and shingle mills, and it had a
mild climate, where an occupation
could be pursued all year around.
Two of these immigrants were my
parents, who were born in Canada.
My mother Ingiríður (Eríksdóttir)
Bardarson came from Geysir, Man-
itoba, arriving in 1923, at the invita-
tion of her uncle Walter Bardarson, to
work as a waitress in his Pool Room
Restaurant, in the Greenlake
Community. My father, Skafti Leo
Johnson, came from Lundar,
Manitoba, arriving in 1924, to pursue
his trade of carpentry. Just exactly how
they met, I don’t really know. They
were active members of the young
people’s organization Frón, and it’s a
good chance this is where they met.
On July 28th, 1928 they were married
by Rev. Wilhem, in his Ballard home
on 24th Avé. N.W. Then on May 13th
of 1929, I came along, being born in
the old Ballard Hospital on Market
Street, and they named me Haraldur
Leo. To have been bom of Icelandic
parents was a lucky draw. For some
reason there was a mix up in the genes
department, as I wasn’t bom with any
singing or poetic talents.
In these early days the family bond
was very important. Our social life was
with our family and other Icelanders,
in the area. I believe this was veiy typi-
cal of most ethnic groups.
As I grew up there were three main
Icelandic organizations in our com-
munity. They were the Vestri Literary
Society, the Eining Ladies Aid and the
Icelandic Picnic Committee, who put
on íslendingadagurin. To the best of
my knowledge, they operated inde-
pendently of each other.
The first memory bite, will be of the
Icelandic Picnic:
he picnics that I remember the
best were held at Silver Lake,
which is just south of Everett,
Washington. This is 30 miles north of
Seattle.
The picnic committee was made up
of Icelanders from all parts of the
Greater Seattle area. The picnic was
usually the first Saturday of August,
which was originally the time to cele-
brate the millennial observance com-
memorating a thousand years of the
settlement and granting of the
Constitution of Iceland on August
2nd, 1874. This was for most of us, the
most important function of the year.
My father was on the sports com-
mittee for many years, so we were
involved throughout the year. I recall
the meetings at our house, where
plans were made each year.
When the big day arrived we would
start out early and as it took a while in
our old car (Willy’s Whippit), we usu-
ally would get there about 10 am. As
we reached the park we saw the big
banner over the entrance with íslend-
ingadagurinn painted on it. It seems as
I look back that we were always met
my Mr. Midal at the gate. He would
greet us and take the entrance fee. We
would get printed programs and each
of us a red, white and blue ribbon to
be pinned on, so we could come and
go during the day. As you would enter
the park there was a row of cabins on
your left, where Hallur and Hanna
Magnusson and the Oscar Sigurdson
family always rented cabins for the
picnic.
n our right was a flat area,
which was the sports field,
with cindered track and a
grassy field. As you drove on you went
up a slight grade, into a wooded area,
with picnic tables scattered through
out. In this area was a covered kitchen
with a wood fired stove, where you
would always find Mr. Kárason tend-
ing the fire and the free coffee and hot
water. Not far from here was the stage
for the program and the dance hall. It
was the duty of the first ones there to
save picnic tables for the family. This
was a time when both my dad and
mom’s family were together during the
year. Once the tables were taken care
of, I would take off to check out the
park and snoop out who was here, etc.
My dad had already headed to the
sports field to get things set up for the
sports. I checked in with him and then
headed across the street to the lake,
where I would go swimming later.
There was a small fee to use the beach
and they would stamp the back of
your hand, this allowed us to come
and go all day. The swimming area
had a tall wooden frame slide, and you
rented a sled to use on its track, which
extended out on the water. This was
very popular and you would have to
wait in line for your tum to take the
ride and shoot out on the lake. There
were built in wooden lockers on a
board wallc around the swimming
area, where you changed and left your
clothes while swimming. There were
rowboats and water bikes for rent,
which was nice if you wanted to take
someone of the opposite sex for a ride
on the lake. The owners of this park
were so very nice and in my mind’s
eye this was the best swimming area
there ever was.
As I cross the street and retum to
the park, I see that flags and banners
have been put up for the program,
which will be held later in the day. At
the program only Icelandic will be
spoken and subjects usually have to
do with traditional Icelandic pride. As
a youngster, I thought that this was
over done, but now that I am older, I
better understand the need and reason
for this. I have been to picnics in the
1990’s, where the only recognition
was the Icelandic flag. This I found
shameful and should be tumed about,
and some Icelandic pride shown.
By this time my cousin Norman has
arrived and we team up for the rest of
the day. At noon most everyone
returns to the picnic tables and has
lunch. At one o’clock the races will
start, so Norm and I wander down to
the field. As I recollect, we had many
good athletes, who came from as far
away as Vancouver in the North and
Portland in the south. Many of the
participants were into school sports,
like the Sigurdsons, Palmasons,
Straumfjords, Johnsons, etc., who
came prepared with their running
shoes and togs. (Please forgive me if I
left someone out, as this was the best
my memory could do)
he programs given to us at the
entrance gate listed the time
and events so you knew when
your age group would run, etc. Men
were chosen to hold the finish rope
and catchers to catch the first, second
and third finishers. The starter had a
starting gun and would make sure of a
good fair start. There were real prizes,
which were donated by merchants and
only given to lst, 2nd and 3rd finish-
ers. (The races were in age groups,
example - 6 & under, 7 & 8, 9 & 10
etc.) The prizes of toys, radios, irons,
etc., made it serious business to be
able to come away with something
besides money or candy.
There was shot-put, broad jump,
high jumps, races, peanut scramble,
nail driving contest, egg throwing, tug
of war and more. I was not blessed
with my dad’s ability as a runner, but
was able to place sometimes in my age
group. I was told that my dad’s run-
ning ability came from running behind
his dog sled on Lake Manitoba, where
he fished in his youth.
At three o’clock the program would
start and the sports would stop. This
was the time when the kids went
swimming. At five o’clock we would
gather to have dinner and group for
the next event. After dinner there was
an egg throwing contest and tug of
war down on the athletic field. This
was one event where Rose Marie and I
did well, but I have to say, I had to
wash egg off more than once.
When these events were over we
would head up to the dance hall and
check out the music makers, hired for
the dance. This was the time that the
little kids could run around and slide
on the dance floor. At about eight
o’clock the music would start. There
were benches built along the outside
walls of the hall, where the grown ups
sat and the kids would gather up front
by the band. There were dance con-
tests held, with prizes to the best cou-
ple, we had some outstanding dancers
in our community. I remember my
uncle Jonathan and aunt Anna win-
ning the Marsouiana, and Sena
Olason and her son Willis winning the
waltz; what smoothness, and grace.
Parents would take their kids out on
the floor, which was a lot of fun.
As the sun went down, outside in
the park, the Brennivín had started to
work as you could hear groups of men
singing Icelandic songs. As the day
grew to a close, about midnight,
groups were heading for home, after
another great day with the Icelandic
family.
his was a special time for many
of us, as this was the only type
of vacation we got throughout
the years of growing up. The devoted
people who put on these picnics over
the years will never lcnow how special
a time this was for us; thanks a thou-
sand times over.
I hope this will bring back some
memories for others of the good old
days.