The first weeks in bed he was kept awake through the nights by the pain. It felt like a firebrand in his back. But after repeated applications of leeches the swelling went down, the soreness eased, and the pain abated. He thought the critters had sucked out the evil that caused the pain.
When on that November evening he had heard the oak come down on him so suddenly he had had only one thought: I’m dying! He had time to think of nothing else before he felt the pain and lost his breath. The pressure had been so severe that he was unable to get air into his lungs. His next clear thought had been: Has my back been able to take it? Pressed down under the tree he had felt sure his back was broken.
He had not been stricken as severely as he had expected but he suffered intense pain afterward. He had to stay in bed for a long time. Fortunately it was winter and there was no urgency on the farm. He need not worry about the daily chores; his four sons attended to those.
In time Karl Oskar was up on his legs again. But it was spring before he could go back to work. He began with easier chores, but his back was not the same as before: He had to walk with it bent. As soon as he tried to straighten up, the old pain and ache gave him orders: You aren’t able! Don’t try to lift!
The following autumn Karl Oskar Nilsson and his sons completed the clearing of the oak grove. They stacked the timber, cleared the ground of stumps and roots, and plowed the field; and the father participated all the time in the work. It was his last clearing, he must see it through. Then his farm would be completed.
His injury was healed but his back was not as strong as before the accident. He walked bent over, he couldn’t straighten it, and he was unable to lift heavy objects.
It was evident to him that from now on he would be only half a workman; he could participate in the work, but he couldn’t do what he had done before, nor would he ever be able to. The last tree he felled had marked him for the rest of his life.
The farmer and the oak had fallen side by side. He rose again, but not fully. One ability had been taken from him: He could never again walk upright on earth.
— 5—
A settler’s evening prayer:
Well, God, I guess you think you’ve got me now! But this is not the way to change me. It was a bad blow I got on my back — now I’m stooping. You’re the Almighty, nothing happens without your will. You wanted to hurt my back, to make me suffer from it for the rest of my life. Why? I don’t think I sinned in cutting down the oaks. I like to clear fields, and people get their daily bread from those fields. Is that why you reward me? What did you do to my father in his days? He fought the stones for twenty-five years and then a stone made a cripple of him. That too you allowed to happen, so you rewarded him. You took Kristina from me, you tricked her to die. How can a person trust a God who acts that way? How can anyone ask me to trust in the Lord after this? You gave me a mind — I’ve used it to the best of my ability. But if my sense isn’t good enough — is this my fault? Why wasn’t I given enough sense? I want to tell you, God: I’ll never praise you for what you did to Kristina, for what you’ve done to me. Never. For I do not accept the injustices you allow to happen. I won’t budge. I won’t submit. I’ll always fight against it. Me you cannot coerce. Never will I ask forgiveness. I know I’m a helpless creature before the Almighty. You can do with me what you wish. But never, never will I say it is just. The oak hit me across the back but it didn’t change my mind. If the tree had fallen a foot to the right or to the left I would have lost my life. But it would have made no difference, it would not have changed me in the moment of death. You cannot do anything to change my mind. You’ve bent my body, God, but not my soul. You can kill me, you can rob me of my breath, but you cannot make me say you’re just. You can never bend my soul. Never in eternity. Amen.
XXIII. THE LETTER TO SWEDEN
Nilsson Settlement at Chisago Lake
Minnesota
July 30 1875
Beloved Sister Lydia Karlsson,
May you be well is my daily wish, I have not Written since long ago. But if these Lines find you They are from your Brother in North America.
Changes have taken place since I Last wrote. I want to tell you that last year I left my farm to my Oldest Son, you must remember Johan. He was 4 years of age when we left Sweden. Now he has taken over, the Son picks up where the Father leaves off, the other children are still at home except Harald who has gone to St. Paul to work for the railroad and Frank who Sits in the Timber company’s offis in Stillwater.
I am not yet old in Years but worn from wear. And I have broken enough land in America. I work a little every day and do what chores I can, if I don’t work my bowels won’t move. I am in good circumstances and need not worry about Daily Bread. Everything has gone up after the closing of the War. Money situation is now orderly. Our Farm gives plenty of Crops and we sell our Wheat at high Prices.
Glad you like the Portrait of the House. I have had taken a portrait of myself which I enclose. Not much to Look at, the Years show their wrinkles. And our bodies go downhill when we near old Age. Have you started to use Glasses for the eyes? Is your hair graying?
I wonder if Brother and Sister would recognize each other after all the years gone by?
My thoughts often wander to the Place where I was born and where my kind Parents helped me grow up. Sometimes I think I would like to go back for a Visit. But I could not see Father and Mother in Life, only their Tombstones.
It would be burdensome for me to go back to Sweden. I am accustomed to Freedom in all things, you know. There is much difference between the Old and the new country. Here all are equals; here a man and citizen has a vote whether poor or Rich. It would be another order in Sweden if all knew their rights and had free speaking. The Swedes are obedient to law and good people and need not so many proud officials and useless masters to rule them. You have to pay for King and Palaces and Lords who live for entertainment and theatres. The workers feed those who won’t work and this is turned-around Order. Sweden needs a new Government which will not bow to the Royal Crown and Mantle. In North America the President is the People’s Crown and we need none other.
You write they say at home times are bad in America, that’s only talk invented by the Lords to keep people in that Country. And Ministers and Preachers like to keep their sheep together, if they all go to America there won’t be many left to shear. I am glad I left home while my blood was youthful, my emigration I have never regretted for a single moment.
We have a heat of 100 degrees here in Minnesota, it is the American counting called Fahrenheit, it nearly burns in bed at night, it is cooler to sleep on the floor.
My memory begins to fail me in many matters but my Childhood is clearer to me as the years fill up, I can see every place in the village and my childhood home. Is the Post with the Rooster that pointed the Compass still standing in the yard? What became of the rosebush to the front of the House? Do you remember when we played hide and seek around that bush?
I send you a draft for ten dollars, you can buy some thing you wish as my gift. Forgive my Poor writing and don’t forget to write to your Brother. Whole years run away between our writings. Only we two are left from our old home, we must not stop letters while we still are in Life.
My wish for Health and all Good.
Written down by
Your Devoted Brother
Karl Oskar Nilsson.
Epilogue
I. THE MAP OF LJUDER
Charles O. Nelson, a Swedish-born farmer in Minnesota, was lying quietly on his back in his bed in his house at the Nelson Settlement. It was midday, midweek, at the height of the harvest season. In the fields the crops were ripe, or drying in shocks; innumerable farm chores waited to be done. But they no longer waited for him; he stayed inside, in his bed.