The Icelandic Canadian - 01.03.2004, Síða 46

140
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
Vol. 58 #3
inable heavy work were hidden in the
unforeseen future. No railroad or highway
came closer than one hundred miles, but
undauunted families brought their posses-
sions in a covered wagon, or if no posses-
sions, a packsack on their back would care
for the camping gear to survive the trek.
Along the river bank, in the centre of the
valley, a “Tent City” developed. As the
years went on this group of tents became
the hub of the valley, and the Town of
Swan River.
But the story of “my Icelandic
Grandma” starts a long way back in anoth-
er land, with sorrow and hardship, a long
ocean trip, and a sojourn in North Dakota
of about thirteen years.
It was to the hopeful “Utopia” in the
Swan River Valley that my grandparents,
Jonas and Johanna Danielson, brought
their family of seven children, and joined
the residents of this growing tent city. The
year was 1903. My mother, Gudrun, aged
ten, was one of the children.
ICELAND
Iceland is sometimes called, “The Land
of Lire and Ice.” Geysers spurt out hot
water, and steam high into the air.
Volcanoes spit fire. In and around
Reykjavik many homes, greenhouses and
industrial plants are heated and powered by
the hot water from the underground
springs. In contrast to this fire and hot
water, about one tenth of the land surface is
covered by glaciers, and snow fields. One
travel advertisement describes Iceland as,
“a land of volcanoes, giant waterfalls,
Viking Museums, concerts, art shows, and
hot pools”. Moon-like lava fields interest
tourists. Dusk at midnight in summer, and
dusk at noon in winters make for intersting
contrasts.
When my grandfather was born in
1839, and grew up on a sheep farm, there
was also deep poverty experienced by
almost everyone on the isolated Island.
Into another poor farm family there was
born a baby girl who received the name,
Johanna Johannesdottir. When she was
about 25 years-old she became the second
wife of Jonas Danielson, and they started
life together on a characteristically poor
farm, with Jonas’ children from his first
marriage. Raising sheep seems to have pro-
vided the principal source of income. Still
today, the Icelandic wool is sought after for
warm, heavy sweaters. (I have two! One
was made from wool raised on my sister’s
farm in Swan River Valley, and knit by
Gudrun, my mother. The second was knit
for me, from yarn from Iceland, by my
beloved wife, Marion).
The family-record pages of Johanna’s
beautiful Icelandic Bible clearly indicate
the depth of poverty and sorrow that Jonas
and Johanna experienced. Twelve names of
their children are recorded, three of whom
died the same year in which they were
born, and another before she was two years
old. This last one was Baby Sigurhlif.
The family decided to seek a better life
in America. Jonas helped his wife and little
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