by Gordon Ryan
By 1895, many Mormon families were into their third generation of residency in Utah. In some respects, Salt Lake City was still a frontier town, absent many of the centuries-old edifices which were present in Oslo and central European communities that Lars had visited on business trips. The Hansens quickly discovered that the mostly Mormon community had brought culture and education with them as they packed their wagons and handcarts and established what they referred to as, “The Lord’s house in the mountains.”
The existence of a university, opera performances, ballet, symphony concerts, and many smaller public performances of plays and musicals convinced Lars and Jenny Hansen that their family had found their place. The closeness of community spirit was enhanced by the shared spiritual goals, something that, following their conversion, had eluded them in Norway. Within several weeks, Lars felt he was home, and was enjoying the added advantage of a large LDS Scandinavian population that had welcomed him and his family. Even the age-old divisions between the Danish, Swedish, and Norwegian peoples over which King or Queen should rule were absent. The people had melded into a solidified block of Scandinavians—and Mormons.
Following the arrival of his woodworking equipment, Hansen’s furniture making business was an instant success. Lars found a wealth of craftsmen among those who were already living in Utah, many of whom were eager to staff his factory. There was an ongoing demand for business and residential furnishings, and so, renting a large warehouse facility near Sugarhouse for his production line, Lars launched into business with a fervor. Within three months, he had his factory producing cabinets and furniture that he sold at a brisk pace, out of a small, retail store on South Main Street.
The two younger Hansen children, Sofie and Hilda, were enrolled in school, while Anders went into the furniture business with his father. Katrina, whom Lars and Jenny agreed needed to marry as soon as possible, found her way to the university located in Salt Lake City and began to take courses toward becoming a teacher. Completely unaware of her father’s communication with Harold Stromberg, Katrina thought frequently of Tom Callahan and whether he would keep his promise and one day show up on her doorstep.
In quick order, the Hansens had moved smoothly into life in turn-of-the-century Utah. The talk of imminent statehood infused the community with energy and excitement. At long last, it was beginning to appear that the Mormons had accomplished their purpose in their escape to the West: the Lord’s kingdom had been saved from destruction. And Utah would soon have the added advantage of joining the rest of America in its growth and expansion.
That the Hansens were not part of the pioneer heritage of Utah proved no deterrence. By 1895, fewer than twenty percent of Utah residents were descendants of those who had come by wagon train and handcart. Such was the success of church missionary efforts throughout America and especially in the British Isles and Scandinavia, that the burgeoning population of Salt Lake City had become a cosmopolitan gathering of Saints. Then, too, attracted by favorable living conditions, employment opportunities, and the strategic location of Salt Lake City, many non Latter-day Saints had begun settling in Utah. The once tiny, exclusively Mormon settlement was growing up and statehood would be a crowning achievement.
In those final evenings on the ship and during their brief stay on Ellis Island, Tom and Katrina had not had the time or the forethought to formulate any communication lines, and so, day by day, all she could do was hope that he would carry through with his promise to come for her. Still, in the recesses of her heart, she had begun to wonder if, indeed, it had just been a “shipboard romance,” such as she had read about in a certain dime novel. As the months passed, Katrina thought more and more about the reality of how far it was from New York to Salt Lake City, and the memory of Tom faded. She developed a growing suspicion that Tom Callahan had more important things to worry about than her. Survival for one thing. Living alone in a new land, without such support and structure as that provided by her father, it would be difficult for anyone to make their way. And then there was her father’s attitude about the Irishman—an attitude that had gone unspoken since they had left Chicago, but which she knew her father kept firmly in place. A poverty-stricken, Catholic, Irish ruffian would never be an acceptable suitor for Lars Hansen’s daughter. Thomas Callahan would amount to nothing, her father had declared, and it would take a miracle to persuade him otherwise.
But at night, as she lay her head on the pillow and closed her eyes, she would revisit in her mind that he had the deepest blue eyes, and a smile that had made her heart pound on those few evenings they spent together, so long ago, on the deck of the Antioch.
“Katie, me darlin’,” he had called her. “Katie, me darlin’.”
The evening that Harold Stromberg presented himself for the first time at the Hansen household provided one of the most humiliating experiences in Katrina’s young life. Out for the day with new friends from school, Katrina returned home to find her family seated in the parlor and her father anxiously awaiting her arrival.
“Katrina,” he exclaimed as she entered the foyer. “We are so glad you are home. Come, see who has returned.”
Katrina’s first glimpse of Harold Stromberg filled her with joy and surprise. The special attention Elder Stromberg had paid to her in Oslo had not escaped Katrina’s attention, but she had also admired his ability to keep his feelings under control. In spite of whatever he may have felt toward her, Elder Stromberg had behaved with perfect decorum. In fact, his restraint was such that during the religious discussions, which Elder Stromberg and his companion conducted in the Hansen’s parlor in Oslo, Katrina had felt somewhat ignored by him. But when her mother explained how these young American missionaries were not permitted to associate with young women, Katrina formed the opinion that Elder Stromberg was a man of character and dedication. She had been fond of him, and seeing him now, on his return from Norway, was truly a joy.
Noting his daughter’s obvious delight, Lars Hansen mistook her feelings for those of a young girl pleased to have a suitor call, and Mr. Hansen’s intention—to bring this young couple together as quickly as possible—seemed well within his grasp.
“Katrina, sit and join us. Elder . . .” Lars paused and smiled at his continued use of the missionary term, which Stromberg had advised was no longer necessary, “I mean, Harold, has been home for a few days and has come to express his pleasure at our safe arrival and to see if he can be of any assistance in our settling into Utah.”
Seated on the divan next to her mother, Katrina smiled at Harold. Her two younger sisters sat on the floor at Stromberg’s feet. Anders, out since early afternoon, had not yet become aware of Elder Stromberg’s visit.
“Sister Hansen, it is indeed a pleasure to see you again,” Harold opened.
“Thank you, Elder Stromberg. I’m so glad you could come to visit. What will you do now that you are home?”
“I plan to enjoy the summer while it lasts, and then re-enter the university. I’ll study the law and work in my father’s law office downtown.”
“How exciting,” Katrina exclaimed.
Lars Hansen, whether from his impatience at waiting for Katrina to arrive home, or from his long standing thoughts concerning the matter and his discussions with his wife about Katrina’s need to marry, then made a social blunder on that fine summer evening in the parlor of his home in Salt Lake City—one that deeply offended and embarrassed his daughter. Mr. Hansen announced to all present, that Mr. Harold Stromberg had asked permission to formally call on Miss Katrina Hansen, and that he, as father, had given his permission.
Without considering the effect it would have on Katrina, or on Harold, Mr. Hansen stated his opinion that Katrina would do well to pay strict attention to Mr. Stromberg’s merits, and offered too his advice that her prospects for a happy life would be enhanced if she were to find Mr. Stromberg a suitable candidate for a husband. It was his considered opinion as her father, that such a marriage would be highly beneficial to both parties.
&n
bsp; Katrina’s look of complete surprise and shock, her plaintive cry of “Poppa,” and her departure from the room in tears, only served to convince Mr. Hansen of her happiness.
Even Mrs. Hansen, who would later come to acknowledge this moment as the point at which Katrina had formed her independence from her father, was shocked at the statement delivered by her husband. Barely twenty minutes after Mr. Harold Stromberg entered their home, and less than ten minutes after Katrina had sat to welcome him, her husband had succeeded in pushing Harold Stromberg into a corner and completely humiliating his daughter.
As for Harold, he was also flabbergasted by Mr. Hansen’s blunt declarations. That he was to be accepted as a suitor did not surprise him, for he had visited privately with Lars Hansen several days earlier to speak of his interest in Katrina. He was astounded, though, by the tactless way Lars Hansen had gone about the fatherly formalities of accepting the first suitor to call upon his eldest daughter. While Elder Stromberg was, in all respects, an excellent candidate for young Katrina’s hand, within twenty minutes of his arrival, the course of what might have been true love had been thwarted by her thoughtless father. Moreover, Lars had succeeded in reinforcing Katrina’s determination to escape her father’s heavy-handed guidance. Katrina was being forced to declare her independence.
Thomas Matthew Callahan, still struggling to make his way west, continued to work each and every day, unaware that in spite of his determination to do otherwise, Lars Hansen had opened the door a crack for the young Irishman, when he had meant, instead, to slam it shut for all time.
18 July 1895
Dear Nana,
I am so humiliated tonight Nana. Poppa has done the most unbearable thing. The young man who taught us the gospel in Oslo has returned to Utah and came to visit us tonight. Without a word to me, Poppa announced to all that he thought it would be a good idea if I seriously considered Mr. Stromberg as a suitable marriage candidate. Momma was mortified, and even poor Harold, (that’s his name Nana) was shocked. I ran from the room in tears.
Oh Nana, what can I do. If Poppa insists, I . . .
Please guide me Nana. Help me to understand Poppa. I know he only wants what’s good for me, but I felt like I was being sold on the block.
Jeg elske du,
Katrina
The one member of the Hansen household who was not happy with their new life in Utah, was Anders Hansen. Unsure of his feelings from the beginning of their investigation of the church, Andy went along with the family decision, first to keep peace at home, but also because his father had been dogmatic about the decision, not allowing any room for discussion. As long as the family was in Norway, it hadn’t really been a problem because the small branch that they attended only had eleven members, and they came together only on Sundays. Since coming to Utah, however, religious activity was more pervasive. That brought Anders face to face with decisions he needed to make.
The first sign of overt rebellion came as a result of Ander’s refusal to be ordained to a priesthood office. Baptized with the family in Norway, his early ordination to the Aaronic Priesthood came as a matter of course, even though he was already seventeen at the time. Since learning of the responsibilities that accrued to a Melchizedek Priesthood holder, and having developed a respect for, if not a belief in, the office which Harold Stromberg had explained to him, Andy refused his father’s demand that he become an elder.
Coming home late, the same evening that Harold Stromberg had visited, and finding Katrina distraught over the evening’s developments was the final straw for Andy. He declared to himself that his father would play no more of a role in his life than was absolutely necessary as they worked together each day. Sitting on the edge of her bed in tears when Andy knocked, Katrina buried her head in his shoulder when he entered the room and sobbed her story to her closest friend. The disparity between Katrina’s absolute commitment to the church and her unshakable testimony of the message Elder Stromberg had delivered in Norway, and Andy’s less-enthusiastic reception of that same message had done nothing to dispel the close-knit bond they shared as brother and sister, friend, and confidant. This evening was no exception.
“He’s gotten even more controlling since we came to Utah, Klinka, and it’s only going to get worse,” Andy vented. “I’ve a good mind to move out and take an apartment of my own, that is if I was sure he wouldn’t fire me just to bring me under his economic control again.”
Katrina winced at the thought. “Please, Anders,” she sobbed, holding on to him in her confusion, “please don’t leave the house. You’re the only one I can talk to.”
“I know, Klinka,” he replied, using the nickname he had assigned her when she was only four years old. “We’ve got to face this together. Have you spoken to Mama?”
“No, but she didn’t approve of his behavior either. I could tell,” Katrina responded.
“Do you like Harold?” he asked.
Katrina sat upright, wiping her eyes with a tissue. “Ya, I do, Anders, but . . .”
“But you don’t think you can love him?”
“I just don’t know, Anders. Really, it’s just too soon to know my feelings. I don’t know how I feel.”
“Maybe you should give him a chance, in spite of Poppa’s meddling. I like him,” Andy volunteered. “He’s always been very nice to us. I think he’s smart, his family is secure here in Salt Lake City, and well, you know he’s always taken a liking to you.”
Katrina smiled thinly. “I know. But I’m so embarrassed. It’s like Poppa put me on the selling block.”
“Ya,” Andy replied, “but I’m sure Harold would understand. He has parents too, you know,” Andy laughed, making Katrina smile.
“Anders,” she said, hugging him tightly, “I love you so much. You always know how to make me laugh. I’d like to see Harold again, but there’s still . . .” she hesitated, not sure what to say.
“There’s still Tom Callahan,” Andy finished for her.
Katrina stood, going to her dresser and looking at herself in the mirror, wiping away the remaining tears. “I don’t know if there is a Tom Callahan, Anders,” she answered.
“Ya. Maybe not. Let me see if I can speak with Harold and explain how you feel about Poppa’s actions. I know he’d like to see you, and he doesn’t want you to feel like a package, either.” Andy stood and moved behind Katrina, both reflected in the mirror as he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Harold or Tom,” he smiled over her shoulder, “I should be so lucky to have a woman like you feel that way about me. They are lucky men, ya, so they are.”
Katrina raised her hand to her shoulder and covered Andy’s hand. “She’s waiting for you, Anders, and I’m going to see that you find her,” she laughed again.
“Hurry, please, Klinka, I’m sick of living in this house, and it’s time I moved on.”
“Not too soon, Anders, please, not too soon,” Katrina pleaded.
7
Bayonne, New Jersey proved slightly less crowded and confusing than New York City, and Tom quickly settled in to his routine, actually enjoying his new job as apprentice oilier on an engine crew. His crew leader, a German engineer whose job was to maintain six steam engines, took a liking to young Callahan and made Tom his assistant.
Teaching Tom the ins and outs of the heating and ventilating system in the large repair facility, Heinrich was pleased to see that Tom took quickly to mechanical things and within several weeks was able to keep the warehouse and repair shop equipment running. The job, however, kept Tom in the roundhouse at the switching yard, and he could see that while the job was interesting, paid fairly well, and offered good working conditions, it would take him no farther west. In light of his living expenses, six months was not enough time to save enough money to buy a ticket to Utah, even at the better rate of pay.
Heinrich Hostetter, the lead engineer, learned all of this from Tom over their first two months together, and so it was no surprise to Heinrich when Tom volunteered for the winter rail crew when the com
pany posted the job.
The organization of a winter rail crew was a company maintenance strategy that had been in effect for two years. Forming a crew of about twenty, and outfitting two railcars—one for new rail storage, and one for crew quarters—the plan called for the two cars to move with regularly scheduled trains heading between Bayonne, New Jersey, and Omaha, Nebraska, placing the work cars on sidings in each successive region as rail repair was accomplished. Rather than outfit crews from each area of the region, the one crew, specialized in their job, followed the major rail lines and accomplished repairs along the way. Most New York, Baltimore, & Ohio employees did not volunteer because it took them on the road for months at a time and in the case of the more difficult winter run, they would leave in late September, be gone through the holidays, and not return until approximately February, after making the run to Omaha, then south to Kansas City and, finally, back east to Bayonne. Family men abhorred the assignment, and so the company tried where possible to take all volunteers. Tom saw it as his chance to move west at the railroad’s expense, as Father O’Leary had suggested. So even though Heinrich had been easy to work for and helpful, nothing he said to Tom could deter the young Irishman from signing on for the winter run.
The third week in September, five months and four jobs after Tom’s arrival in America, the repair crew pulled out of the Bayonne switching yard. The twenty men settling into their claimed bunks in the crew car began grousing almost immediately about the quality of the food, which was prepared by a cook who operated a kitchen at one end of the car, alongside the small room occupied by the road foreman, Mr. Sutherland.