Letters from Geo, Part 1

I haven’t written as much about the Anderson side of my family as I have about the Johnsons. This is because I have more information about the Johnsons, which is partly because I actually knew my grandpa Emil but unfortunately never had the chance to meet George. I’m sure if I had known him, he would have told me a lot of family history stories and written me letters, just like Grandpa Johnson did.

George, who was always referred to as merely “Geo”, both in letters and on the backs of photos, was born to Ole and Marie Anderson on September 27, 1897. They lived in Brookville Township, Redwood County, Minnesota, where Ole had a farm.

During the first world war, he served in the Navy as a ship’s cook on the USS Powatan. As I mentioned in “Remembering My Family’s WW1 Veterans”, Geo was the writer of the only letter I have that was sent from any relative while overseas during the war. Amazingly, he signed that one “George” instead of “Geo”.

After the war, George spent a considerable time working in Chicago. Unfortunately, none of us knows what type of work he did there. Writing to his sister Lydia on what appears to have been December 21, 1921, Geo used a postcard from the YMCA Hotel, at 822 S. Wabash Avenue. But after saying “Drop me a line”, he gives his address as 607 St. Clair Street.

 I looked up both of these addresses and found Google photos of each. The St. Clair address (left) is still the Hotel St. Clair, while the old YMCA hotel is apparently home to a variety of businesses.

Although their name was Anderson, these people are not related to us. But in my “research” I found this postcard from Chicago, mailed three days after George mailed his.

While the Johnsons nearly always wrote the dates on their letters, as well as the city they were writing from, the Andersons apparently didn’t see that information as important. Letters were more likely to be dated like this one, with “Tuesday Nite”.

Fortunately, I was able to see the postmark on the envelope.

This undated photo of George and Hilma had the question “Do you think this is 1927?” written on the edge. The two were married on May 16, 1927, after what seems to have been a somewhat rocky courtship. Part of this courtship is revealed in fifteen letters written by George to Hilma from July to December of 1926. I don’t have any of Hilma’s replies, but I’m impressed by the fact that she kept these letters all her life.

In the first letter, postmarked July 6, 1926, and mailed from the YMCA Hotel in Chicago, we see the drama beginning to unfold. Apparently, Hilma had other romantic interests besides George. We have no information about “the other guy”, nor have any letters from him survived, if any had in fact existed.

Towards the end of the letter, he tells her how he got a good deal on a car at home, apparently just before leaving Minnesota for Chicago. I don’t know when that was, but could it have been in September of 1924? If so, I have the receipt!

By August 30, Geo was back in Fosston, Minnesota, and had apparently proposed to Hilma, and planned a wonderful honeymoon for her, but it doesn’t sound like she had accepted yet.

By the end of the letter he is trying to convince her that he’s not as bad as she thinks, adding that she can ask any girl he’s ever gone with if she needs proof.

By October 6, Geo had been driving from Fosston to visit Hilma in Lengby. According to Google Maps, today that would be a 9-minute drive down US Route 2, or 15 minutes if you took the side roads. I’m going to guess it took a bit longer in 1926.

On October 13, Geo promises to come see Hilma on Saturday night, rain, shine, or snow.

In a letter postmarked October 25, Geo apologizes for having taken Hilma out in the cold, which resulted in her getting sick.

And, to add insult to injury, Hilma’s dad, Johannes, apparently witnessed the whole thing.

I’m not sure it had anything to do with the car getting stuck in the mud and Hilma coming down with a cold, but by November 3, it looked like the relationship was getting rocky again.

In my all-time favorite line from any of Geo’s letters, (“For God sake Hilma, drop me like a hot spud”) he tells her to break it off with him if she didn’t appreciate his love for her. But, read on . . .

Seven days after the “break-up”, they were still dating, and apparently Johannes had agreed to let Hilma ride with George in the car again, muddy roads notwithstanding.

In the same letter, postmarked November 10, it appears that she had finally said “yes”.

By November 17, Geo was pondering the benefits of staying in farming or looking for a different profession. Hilma had been raised on a farm also, so I wonder what her thoughts were on the subject. He was also thinking of trading in his car in the spring.

It took me awhile to figure out what “the Oakland” was, but finally I found out. It was a Ford “touring car”, which possibly takes us back to Geo’s 1924 receipt for his used car purchase.

It’s doubtful that the car Geo bought in 1924 was a 1923 model, since he got it at such a low price. But this is probably close to what it would have looked like. I discovered that it cost extra to have glass in the windows, so due to Hilma’s catching cold when stuck in the mud, we are going to assume that Geo’s Oakland was the open model.

Speaking of cars, I found this in one of Hilma’s photo albums. I think that’s her in the plaid jacket, but I’m not sure about the others. While I can’t tell if these cars are “Oaklands”, it does give us an idea of what cars in general looked like at the time.

Based on other photos, I’m pretty sure that’s Hilma’s brother Oscar, and possibly his wife, Liv, on the left. On the right, I’m guessing it’s Hilma’s uncle Enoch, Oscar, and her father Johannes.

And finally, one last car picture. I have no idea who these people were, but doesn’t the blonde kid in the front look like a character?

As we all know, Geo and Hilma did get married, and they lived in Chicago, where my Aunt June was born. Eventually went to Crookston, Minnesota, where my mom was born. There’s a whole post in my mind about the “Rest-A-Nite Tourist Camp” and Texaco station they ran for a time, as well as more letters from Geo, written several years before his death in 1944.

But until then, remember, “You can trust your car to the man who wears the star . . .”