Saturday, October 29, 2016

drunknad af vada

We have only one picture of him.
His "personal" page in my Family Tree Maker software has only three lines, listing three life events - he was born, he got married, and he died.
But the circumstances of his death not only make him one of the most interesting people on the family tree, but one of the most significant. I don't think I'm exaggerating too much if I say that the events of a single weekend 125 years ago changed everything.

He's Axel Lungberg (pronounced like "Young-berry," I think.) He is my Great Grandfather.

 

The above little newspaper blurb doesn't give details, but does sum it up in a nutshell. It is a good starting point for telling the rest of the story. A rough translation goes like this:


My dearly loved husband, bookkeeper, Axel Ljungberg, born on May 10, 1854, died by accident on October 9, 1892, will be deeply missed by me, 5 children, relatives and many friends. I tell you my sorry plight...at Levanten, November 2, 1892. 


So what happened? What are the details of this "accident?" What is the rest of the story? Over the years I have been told a number of things by my Gramma Dolan and my Dad, things like a carriage accident-found face down in a creek-foul play and suspicion of murder-alcohol related. No one seemed to know for sure what happened, and the little blurb has been the only piece of actual documentation in the family archives. Until now..

As it turns out, there is a little bit of truth in all of the stories that have been told in the past. There was an accident, although there is no mention of a carriage being involved. Drowning in a creek was likely the cause of death, but exactly how the body was found isn't mentioned. There was no foul play or murder, but there was suspicion and an investigation was made. Was it alcohol related? Yes. That is one thing that is clear.

So what are the facts as we know them? There is a death record that says the "bookkeeper (or inspector), Axel Ljungberg died in Liventen, Orgryte Parish. Cause of death: drunknad af vada, which means, drowned by accident. He was 38 years, 4 months, and 19 days old. Wow!

But the death notice also says, Attest fran Kronal,  which means that papers had been sent from the Kronolansman (an old word for police.) In other words, there was a police investigation of what appeared to be a suspicious death. 

Here what that investigation revealed in a rough translation (not mine, but a Swedish researcher) of the Official Report of the County Sheriff, November 7, 1892, along with a few brief comments by me:

To His majesty the King's Commander in Goteberg.
Returned to the county sheriff in Safvedals County with notification that there are no objections for the dead body to be buried.
Goteberg city council, November 5, 1892 

It does go on simply and to the point:

The book-keeper in Livanten in Orgryte, Johan (??) Ljungberg left his homestead Sunday the 9th last October and has after that not been heard from. Today before noon, after searches in the water, his body has been recovered in Molndals Creek near Bohusvik. In police investigations, kept October 11-12, has come forward, that Ljungberg, who on the 9th of October in the morning had come home from a wedding; had not been sober.

So we know how the weekend started - a wedding. Whose? That we don't know. 

He had, accompanied by the factory worker August Andersson from Wilhelmsdal, in the afternoon that same day, gone off to the city (of Goteberg) and visited five drinkinghouses where they both had malts and liqueur.  Ljungberg, who didn't carry any money, had been allowed to borrow 5 Kronor.  Around 11 at night, they separated near Lorensberg and Ljungberg who had been very intoxicated had headed homewards.  Andersson, who during the evening had become very drunk, had lost his memory and did not know how he got home.  Ljungberg had been seen at the Karlslunds road ( a road which leads from the old road in Galgkrogarna to Molndals creek and Bohus factory) around 11:30 at night. (One of these days I need to get a geography lesson on the places and parishes around Goteberg. I think it would add something to a proper understanding of the story.)

So the weekend continued. We can ask and wonder all we want, but we'll never know. Why didn't he just stay home Sunday - I mean, he did have a wife and 5 children to think about? Who was August? A friend from work? Why the "pub crawl?" No money? So much doesn't seem to make sense, but one thing is pretty certain, we know how he spent his last hours.

Here's a little detail of the report that struck me: In the deceased's pocket was found a pocket watch, which had stopped at 11:30. I wonder what happened to that watch!

But in the end, With notification hereby, I humbly state that Ljungberg most likely by accident fell into the creek and drowned.  There are no reason to believe that he died by other man's hand.  The dead body may without further investigation and obduction (which I think means keeping or withholding from the family) be buried."  Safvedals County sheriff's office. November 2, 1892.

So there you have it. Not exactly the kind of stuff you hope to find in your family history. But as the overworked saying goes, it is what it is. The story answers some questions, but brings up more, at least for me. What kind of man was my great grandfather? Was this just one regretful weekend  of bad decisions, or were there bigger issues? Don't know. Can't know. Anyone who might know is no longer alive to tell. 

Does anyone want to think about the "what if?" What if that October weekend so long ago had been different in one way  or another. What if Axel Ljungberg had lived a full life. Think about it. No marriage to William James Dolan. No Newmilns, Scotland. No Canada. No WW I war hospital and no nurse Elizabeth Yates. No Ernie and Harry. No me. No you. No Zion. At least not the way we know all of that today. It's all moot, of course. I know that. But can you see why Axel Lungberg and his story is pretty important to us and  how it really did change everything?

Saturday, October 22, 2016

He Threw the Curve

  • They called him L'il Abner, after a popular comic strip character.
  • A blonde-haired Swede, with huge hands, he was a strapping 6' 3" and carried 180+ pounds on his lanky frame.
  • He lived what is many a boy's dream - he played in the "Bigs" - a professional ball player.
  • Although it was more than just "a cup of coffee" (1941-1948), his big league career was rather mediocre according to most standards. Cooperstown will not be calling anytime soon.
  • BUT ... his claim to fame was that he was on the mound at venerable Forbes Field in Pittsburgh, PA on that fateful day of September 28, 1945 when the Cubs clinched the pennant, and he threw the pitch, a curve ball, that punched the Cubs ticket to the World Series.
  • His name was Paul Walford Erickson.
  • He came from small-town Zion, Illinois - the only Zionite ever to make it to the big time.
  • AND, he's part of our family history - the brother of my Aunt Estella Erickson Dolan!

Here's the story.

Paul Erickson was born on December 14, 1915 in Zion, one of 10 children of Lewis and Bertha Paulson Erickson. They lived and grew up in the big house on the northeast corner of Elim Avenue and Shiloh Blvd. The impressive house is still there. There were 5 boys, all athletes, and six girls. One of his sisters, Estella, married my uncle, Ernie Dolan.

The right-hand pitcher who wasn't a bad hitter either was one of baseball's "war years" players of the 1940s. And he was a "fireballer" with a long stride and sweeping motion - his fastball they said "left his hand like a shell from the battleship Missouri where the Japanese had surrendered earlier in the month." One of his catchers back in the day in Zion said he had to wear sponges in his mitt because Paul threw so hard. If there was a problem, it was that he threw as many balls as strikes, which made him a feared opponent. A Chicago sportswriter commented "he rattled hitters with his wildness," and during the winter off-season "he rattled the bottles as a Chicago milkman." Paul himself remembered a game in the minor league which he won and knocked the opposing team out of the league lead by striking out 18. "I also walked 12 or 13" he laughed, "so you can see it was a busy evening." It was this wild streak that may have limited Paul Erickson's potential stardom.

My boys Aaron and Jeff will appreciate this - and pay attention grandson Isaiah Schaser! Back in his boyhood days in Zion, Paul Erickson didn't exactly have big league star potential, and most would have laughed at the thought, Paul included. He hardly competed in sports at all because he was too small. His brother John commented that "he was so small the coaches wouldn't even look at him." He himself chuckled about this, "When I entered high school (Waukegan then, since Zion didn't have a high school yet) I was only about that high, as he gestured with his tremendous hand. About 5 foot. I wasn't much bigger in my senior year, when I suddenly started to shoot up in the air. By the end of that year I was close to 6', but so awkward I couldn't have played in any sport without being my own biggest handicap."

That changed. He overcame the clumsiness and adjusted to his newly acquired height and bulk. He tried catcher, played both infield and outfield, but it was his ability to throw a baseball hard that eventually took him to that hill 60 feet 6 inches from home plate.
Paul Erickson bottom row 2nd from right
My Uncle Ernie Dolan bottom center next to Paul, and cousin Axel Dolan in back row between them.
He played for various local teams in Zion like the Zion Merchants and Johnson Motors, and then made his way through the minor league circuit. It was a St. Louis Cardinal scout who spotted him first in a game in Half Day, IL, saw him pitch and wanted to sign him. But Paul asked for a tryout with the Cubs who wasted little time in signing him. Paul said, "I think it was Bill Veeck's father that signed me." That was in 1936. He played for the Cubs farm team in Ponca City, St. Joseph, MO, the Los Angeles Angels (then a Triple A team), the old Triple A Milwaukee Brewers, and Indianapolis under White Sox legend, Al Lopez. He became the strikeout king of the Western Association. It was while he was with the Cubs Tulsa team that he developed into a potential star.

According to sportswriter Eddie Gold of the Chicago Sun-Times Paul got the nickname in the minor leagues, from Al Capp's hillbilly comic strip character (look it up.)The team bus had a flat tire and there was no jack. Erickson lifted the bumper off the ground to help fix the tire. Or so the story goes.


But it was in 1945 when the star shone the brightest. It's Cub's lore, and I'm disappointed it doesn't get more attention today. It was the clincher! It was mid-way through the '45 season and the Cubs were in first place with a 71/2 game lead. By the time September rolled around it was down to a game and a half. They went into Pittsburgh on the last weekend of the season needing to win just one game to clinch. A sacrifice fly from center-fielder Andy Pafko gave the Cubs a lead in the top of the ninth, but the Pirates had last raps.

Starting pitcher Hank Borowy left the game in the bottom of the ninth with one out and and men on first and second. They brought in a left reliever, Bob Chipman, who got a ground out, but runners advanced to second and third. The stage was set for Chicago Cub and Dolan family history to be made. It's the bottom of the 9th - two ducks on the pond -  two out - the Cubs had a one run lead. Manager Charlie Grimm gambled big-time making the bullpen call for the often wild Paul Erickson. With the count 0-1 he threw a wild fastball - Pirate pinch hitter Tommy O'Brian ducked out of the way, but the ball his bat for a foul-ball strike two. Another fastball to punch him out was a sure thing, right? That's what Tommy O'Brian thought too. But as the Chicago Tribune headline reported, "Erickson Threw the Curve." O'Brian could only watch as the sweeping "Uncle Charlie," "Sir Charles," wicked curve ball dropped in for a called strike three, and the Cubs uncorked the champagne! "That pitch clinched the pennant for the Cubs, something that no thrown or batted ball has done in the (71) years since."

The Cubs lost the series in four games to Detroit. Paul pitched as a reliever in all four of the games, but a world series ring was not to be. "Pitching beat us" Paul said. "They had such hurlers as Dizzy Trout." But they still had that exciting and memorable day in Pittsburgh. In 1977 Chicago Daily News sportswriter,  George Vass wrote, "Boys have graduated from high school, attended college, gotten jobs, married, reared children, put them through school, and become fat, prosperous and middle-aged since the Cubs last won a pennant." And now in 2016 there are few Cub fans who were even born when Paul Erickson threw that pitch. But "that golden moment and the succeeding, disappointing World Series against the Detroit Tigers, nevertheless remain fresh in the memories of those who won the Cubs last pennant. Call them the 'Men of Autumn' rather than 'the Boys of Summer', because for the most part they were an aging crew, veterans and jumped-up minor leaguers, not physically suited for the demands of uniformed service in World War II. But they were a good team, and they won the last pennant flown over Wrigley Field.


In 1948 after the Cubs traded him to the Phillies, the Chicago Sun-Times had an article about why "the fireballing Swede never attained stardom. Roy Johnson, the coach who was with Paul both in the minors and with the Cubs gave a four part answer to that question. "1) He was scared to death out there; 2) he lacked pitching smartness, 3) he was brought up to the majors too quickly, and 4) (This is interesting) he was handicapped by playing in home-town territory cluttered by relatives and friends." The article went on to explain the "being scared" comment. It "wasn't belittling his physical prowess...since "we had seen him battle two guys at once in the stands a couple of years ago and had heard other tales of his fighting prowess." Coach Johnson said, "...If I were picking anybody, I'd want him on my side. I saw him get mad down in Texas League once and he was trowing guys around like they were paper bags." He went on to say that rather, "He's always afraid that he'll throw it in the wrong place or that somebody will hit the hell out of the ball. As a result he gets himself in a hole, slows down a bit as he comes down the alley with it and blooie...I told him many a time that with the weapon he's got with that fastball of his, the hitters ought to be scarred...He doesn't know the art of pitching...he tries to be smart and makes all sorts of mistakes, throws sidearm to left-handed batters and everything else...and that would be all right too, if he'd just content himself with blowing that ball in there." It was the feeling of some that if Paul only would have had the chance to have a big year in the minors before being brought up, he would have been better. But in 1940, manager Jimmie Wilson was so impressed with the way he fired the ball in there, they kept him on the major league team. "I knew in the minors that he wasn't ready. Finally, It was said that no manager wanted a hometown boy on his team. Too many distractions. "Just moving to Philadelphia might help Paul. I hope it does. He was always a likable fellow."

But like many before and after him. Paul Erickson's arm went bad and he lost his stuff. He finished up playing for the Phillies, New York Giants and Pittsburgh. He retired to Fond du Lac, WI where he did some scouting for the Braves, and even had a one month stint as the manager of the Appleton Foxes. He lived out his life in Fond du Lac and was retired from W.J. Woodruff Roofing Company. He and his wife Margaret had three children, who until later on didn't know he was a big leaguer and had helped clinch a National League pennant. Paul Erickson died at the age of 86 on April 5, 2002. He is laid to rest at the Shrine of Rest Mausoleum in Fond du Lac.
Paul and Margaret Erickson
Like the Cubs in September of 1945, on this day in October 2016, the Northsiders find themselves one win away from the Fall Classic. Time will only tell if the 71 year Wold Series drought will come to an end this weekend. Whether they do it or don't, I think its a good time remember that day when the baseball world (and Pirate Tommy O'Brian) were shocked when "Erickson threw the curve."


1976 in Zion on Eschol Ave
John, Carol, and Sarah Dolan, Uncle Ernie Dolan, Dad Harry Dolan
and Paul Erickson

Sidebar:
One of my prized possessions is one of Paul Erickson's ball mitts. Don't know if it is the one he used in September of '45 - but it is special! Paul gave it to his brother-in-law and my Uncle Ernie Dolan. Ernie loved baseball too, and was a pretty darn good pitcher himself  (he also had a tryout and met the famous Dizzy Dean). Every once in a while, Ernie would show me the glove when I went over to their house on Eschol Ave. in Zion. And my Uncle Ernie took good care of me - took me to my first Cubs game at Wrigley and later he would take me once a summer to Milwaukee to watch the the White Sox play. After my beloved Milwaukee Braves (Ernie would say, "'dem Bums from  Milwaukee") broke my heart and moved to Altlanta, the Cubs would play a few games in Milwaukee. And finally - I don't remember when - Uncle Ernie gave the glove to me. (He knew!) I will always treasure it. I keep a baseball in it, still take it out and pound the pocket a few times, and think about how at one time long ago that glove was on the hand of a big leaguer - which is as close as I would ever get.
The Glove was Paul Erickson's
(The ball is mine - diving catch over two rows of bleachers in the '90s at old Country Stadium)

Saturday, October 1, 2016

The Gangs Are All Here (Again)

Sarah's Confirmation Day - May 1990
1900 N. Erb Street-Appleton, Wisconsin

What makes these two photos memorable is the  fact that so many people were there that day - on both the Dolan and Mateske side. As time moved on, the numbers of people who could come got smaller and smaller. (Ask poor KT.)
But on this day the gangs were all there - except for one person on each side!
Can you see who it was?
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With our family, the Mateske side included Mom and Dad Mateske, Granny Schultz, Bob and Gail with an already tall Adam and Paul, both Helen (left side) and Agnes (right side) Flynn, Montello neighbors. Bonus attendees were Aunt Jenny Dehling with Ron and Stacie Dehling, and friends Martin and Althea Griepentrog.


click to enlarge
With our family, the Dolan side included Mom and Dad, David, Mary Lou and family; Mary and Tom and girls (this was pre-Lesia). Bonus attendees were Uncle Ernie and his second wife Vi.

**Who's missing?**
Gramma Minnie on the Mateske side
Rachel Dolan (sick) on the Dolan side

TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE!

Homecoming Royalty - Sort of ...

Went to the Luther Prep homecoming last night - and got a peek at the pep rally where the homecoming court was introduced. I was moved. (Okay, not really.) But it has moved me to reveal this family archive gem from the ghost of Prep homecomings past. It's grainy and it's black and white. But it is a classic and, of course, there is drama and human interest oozing out all over the place - known only to the participants and others who were there on that fall Friday night at dear old Northwestern Prep in 1969.

Are you ready for it ....


click to enlarge

You'll want to first notice the elaborate state of  the art lighting. And that's all there was, trust me. You can't see the sound system, but you would have heard it, or maybe not. The stage really wasn't all that helpful, and I'm not quite sure what that box is in the lower right. I'm sure it was important though.

Other than looking terrified, embarrassed, or somewhat bored, let me tell you about this cast of court (and courting) couples.

Let start on the left and get it out of the way right from the get go. Yep, that's me, looking rather "Joe Prep-ish" I don't mind saying. I'm  escorting Joanne Jaeger. Six years later she would be in our wedding and there started courting my buddy groomsman, Don Sutton. We were in their wedding not long after. That's Don in the back with the shirt and tie. He was the class "Studley Dudley" and was the pep  rally speaker.

To  my left is Doreen Marohl, the class "looker"- a beautiful gal then and still today. (We're Facebook Friends.) It's a wonder I learned any Latin my first year  at Prep. Doreen sat in front of me. She smelled so nice, wore these beautiful sweaters, and her lovely blonde hair was always hanging in front on me on my desk. No wonder I couldn't conjugate amo. The college guys on campus noticed her too, and she  dated a few of  them. Prep guys never  had a chance. That's Mike Hintz with Doreen, looking mildly interested in the whole affair. I like Mike and we are friends today. He was a more than decent athlete, good student, a great guy who became a fine pastor, world missionary, and now the synod's evangelism leader. But how Mike got to be with Doreen will forever be a mystery to me.

Of course, in the middle you see the lovely maiden from Montello, Carol Mateske, with my good friend (who  is now in heaven), Mark Lindner. "The Gief" as we called him looks like a gief and about as stiff and uncomfortable as any human being could be. Not only that, when he was picking out pants that night he must have thought there was a flash flood warning. I love that guy! But we really needed to switch places (no offense to Joanne intended), but Carol and I both would have voted for the switch. But we didn't have a vote on that (not sure who did the pairing), and  I was too cool (okay, I was chicken) to say anything. It took me until the snow fell to admit that I had my eyes on her and do anything about it. We did enjoy the other major campus social event together, Winter Carnival.  I can remember that coat so well. I wonder what happened to it. She looked good  in it, but I suppose it would be out of style today - what with the fluffy trim and all.

Next is another family connection. That's Marsha, now Stueber, Hackbarth, who is the aunt of Jeff's wife, Andrea. (Paula Schmeling, or li'l Hacky, as I called her, was Marsha's younger sister, who may  have  been in the crowd that night.) Marsha is with Charlie Degner, the Ixonia farm boy who became my district president in Minnesota. Charlie and Marsha were actually an item in those days, and  we thought they would get married someday. Oh well, guess not. Charlie was also one  of  the class brains, a practical, "let me fix that" kinda guy, and he looks more interested in what Don was doing behind him, trying to get the microphone going. 

Finally, the last couple is my good buddy, John Gawrisch  and Jackie Kletsch. They were not a couple, but Jackie wished they were. If "Goo" was interested, he didn't let on, and would have probably been too bashful to do anything about it anyway.

I'm not sure who the other guy is. A college guy maybe. Looks like John Johnson. I can't tell, and I don't remember.

Well, Marsha became homecoming queen - I'm sure  hands down. We lost the football game to Racine Lutheran, a game in which I sprained my ankle badly, didn't come out and got burned on a touchdown pass to a guy who wasn't that good. That was disappointing. But I don' think we won any  games that  year.

But this was a cool night none  the less!

But darn! I wish I had  kept  that letter sweater!!!

Homecoming Royalty indeed! 1969 style!

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