The Icelandic Canadian - 01.08.2006, Síða 19

Vol. SO #2
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
61
waist, Carrie proceeded out the door. My
sister Buddie began to shake, holding back
the laughter. I followed suit attempting to
cover my face with my handkerchief. Then
I noticed Mrs. Knutson, one of my Amma
Bensons best friends, sitting in the third
row. She was staring at me with those
piercing brown eyes and a most disgusted
look on her face. I knew this would be
reported to my Amma as soon as she left
the Lutheran service. The differences in
their religious beliefs did not inhibit their
friendship. However, families were often
divided.
Amma Benson paid a call on my moth-
er to report on our terrible behaviour.
Mother told her that we were just children
and they had not laughed out loud.
Frank Olson played the organ for
many years. He had an old car that seemed
to know its way around town with little or
no effort from Frank. Many years later
after choir practice, on a hot Friday
evening when I was about eighteen, Frank
offered my friend Inga Nordal and I a drive
in the country. Frank was off to see his
favorite bootlegger for a few beers. We
drove north of town and then turned off on
the Fraserwood road and then north again.
Frank stopped the car and blew the horn,
three short and one long. A woman
emerged from the bushes swaying from
side to side wearing a long dress and sever-
al aprons that covered her ample body. Her
head was covered with a babushka. As she
strode toward the car, bells went off on in
my head. This was my mother’s butter lady
who frequently complained to my mother
that she was kept awake at night, as her
neighbor was a bootlegger. My mother,
Mrs. Chiswell and the Lutheran Minister,
the Reverend Mr. Bjarnason were the sole
members of the Good Templars, an anti
liquor group. I said to Frank, “Your in the
wrong place, this is my mother’s butter
lady.” Frank replied, “I don’t care what she
sells your mother, she is my favorite boot-
legger and I come here every weekend.” I
averted my head as Frank ordered his beer
and handed her some money. She returned
shortly to the car with the beer and handed
them to Frank. As he bid her good evening,
I turned my head and said “Good evening
Mrs. Dowhan”. She quickly scurried back
into the bushes.
Two weeks later, my mother remarked
that this was the second Saturday that Mrs.
Dowhan had not come with butter. She
said she hoped that Mrs. Dowhan was not
ill. I told my mother my story of Frank and
the beer.
Runa Johnson was one of my friends
and her father had a farm north of Loni
Beach. For her birthday, the class was
invited for a Tally Ho. As usual religion
came up for discussion. I remarked that she
had the framed saying ‘For the Fear of
God’ on her wall. I suggested that she
attend our church where we love God and
are not afraid of God. She vehemently
denied that Lutherans feared God. I said
she had this on her wall. She said no, so we
had a bet. Runa was always right. As the
sleigh pulled up to the Johnson’s door, we
both rushed in and up the stairs to her
room. We almost knocked her Amma
down. There on the wall was ‘For the Fear
of God’. She replied that no one in the
church believed this. I told her she was in
the ‘crazy’ church not I. The Unitarian
church was often refered to by the
Lutherans as the ‘crazy’ church.
My mother, sisters and I were attend-
ing a concert in our church and Laura
Olson was accompanying us. As we passed
Laura’s house, her brother Humphrey
called to her demanding to know where she
was going. When she told him where she
was going, he called for his mother.
“Mother come quickly, Laura is going to
the ‘crazy’ church. She ignored him.
However, some of our friends would never
set foot in our church. I told Humphrey
not to worry, as we had neither a devil nor
hell and she would be safe.
Sylvia Bjarnason was the daughter of
the Lutheran minister. Mrs. B was away to
Winnipeg and I was asked to stay with
Sylvia. We talked late into the night. Her
father would call us for breakfast and we
would scramble to the table. Before we
could eat, her father needed to say a multi-
tude of prayers for God’s intervention for
his entire congregation but no prayers for
Unitarians. He insisted we hold hands
while he prayed. He held Sylvia’s right