"The Other Swedes"
~ Celebrating Them ~
~ The Smoky Valley Writers ~
~ Celebrating Them ~
~ The Smoky Valley Writers ~
Prince Wilhelm of Sweden
~ A royal one-time Smoky Valley Writer of 1928 -
"A Swedish Oasis"
~ Recalling his 1927 Bethany College Presser Hall Groundbreaking Celebration Visit
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~ A royal one-time Smoky Valley Writer of 1928 -
"A Swedish Oasis"
~ Recalling his 1927 Bethany College Presser Hall Groundbreaking Celebration Visit
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* In March of 1927, there was the Presser Hall groundbreaking ceremony with Prince Wilhelm of Sweden present carrying out the honors. The Prince was so impressed with his day visit to Lindsborg and overwhelmed emotionally by the "short hour" of listening to the Messiah Chorus that he was compelled to share his experiences with other Swedes and Swedish Americans through The American-Scandinavian Review of February 1928.
* Dr. Emory K. Lindquist, 1984, Hagbard Brase: Beloved Music Master
* Dr. Emory K. Lindquist, 1984, Hagbard Brase: Beloved Music Master
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T H E A M E R I C A N S C A N D I N A V I A N R E V I E W
VOLUME XVI FEBRUARY 1928 NUMBER 2
Pages 103-106
T H E A M E R I C A N S C A N D I N A V I A N R E V I E W
VOLUME XVI FEBRUARY 1928 NUMBER 2
Pages 103-106
"A Swedish Oasis"
by
Prince Wilhelm
(1884-1965)
by
Prince Wilhelm
(1884-1965)
"It was on a sunny spring day that I came to Lindsborg. From Kansas City the journey had been made over billowy plains where wheat and corn fields extended as far as the eye could see. Had it not been for some low hills and ridges, which here and there broke the horizons edge, the scenery would have been hopelessly monotonous. It was as if we were rolling across an enlarged Skåne, where we could actually see how the fields were effervescing and waiting for the first warm days in order to turn green and bear rich harvests. Homes were scattered sparsely on this fertile desert. With their round silo-towers, they resembled at a distance amusing and innocuous fortresses out of some military playhouse. Here and there one could see a fat sows with a whole litter of little pigs rooting in the soil. But otherwise, the fields were deserted. The spring work was done, and now one only waited for growth.
Note on right are Prince Wilhelm, Dr. Deere, Rev. Dr. Bergin, Dr. Pihlblad
Photograph by B. G. Gröndahl
A RECEPTION ON THE CAMPUS
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A RECEPTION ON THE CAMPUS
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"Miles upon miles are devoured by the rushing locomotive. The Union Pacific rails are like taunt sinews, extending straight toward the west. In the Pullman coach Dr. Ernst Pihlblad sits telling sits telling about the extraordinary development of Lindsborg. It became a little lecture in itself, interesting and engrossing in its artless form. He is quite in his element, apparently, as he is absorbed by the strenuous life and fantastic adventures of the early pioneer days. And when he mentions the College and the Messiah Chorus there is a new ring in his voice. They are as the apple of his eye. For them he has offered his best years, his fullest strength, his most passionate interest. It is any wonder that they are dear to him?
T H E A M E R I C A N S C A N D I N A V I A N R E V I E W
Pages 104-105
"In McPherson, we alight. It is a small town of a few thousand inhabitants, all of whom seem to be on foot and ready to greet us with the deafening clangor of a band. They crowd around the motor cars. It becomes difficult to make our way forward. Across the Main Street hang the stars and stripes and brotherly concord with our own flag with its cross of gold. From all sides come greetings in Swedish, and many a buttonhole is adorned with the blue and yellow. Slowly we make our way through the community. We have no time to stop. As soon as we have passed the last houses, the cars set out at whizzing speed, an enormous grayish white clouds are left swirling in our wake. The road is straight and deserted, and there is nothing to check our course. On the sides the fields dance by just as they did past the Pullman windows a short time before.
"Soon the first houses in Lindsborg come into view. There numbers increase, and before we know it we are in the very heart of the town. They are so neat and well taken care of, these low buildings, which often are fairly imbedded in verdure. Through the open windows one can almost catch the odor of newly scrubbed floors or freshly laundered clothes. As it lies here in the sunshine, the community is like the Swedish idyll; and, after all, they are kinsmen, by far the majority of these who dwell behind the fluttering chords of the window shades. A window without a shade does not exist in America. And here, as elsewhere, our countrymen have become as Americanized in their customs and homes as Americans themselves.
"Also here in Lindsborg the red, white, and blue and the blue and yellow were seen everywhere, swaying gently in the mild breeze. Festive decorations abounded, and all was in holiday garb in the middle of the week. Along the streets the crowds grew denser, and as we drove up to the square in front of the large red main building of the college it was packed with people.
"Here one met representatives of the community, professors, instructors, ministers and prominent citizens, none named and none forgotten. They all looked so exceedingly friendly and glad that they warmed cockles of one's heart. On all sides one heard Swedish spoken, and now and then someone stepped out from the crowd to shake hands and send a greeting home. One hand after another pressed mine, and this would have continued for a long time had it not been for the waiting ceremonies. Ground was to be broken for a new auditorium that very day, and I had been asked to lift the first spadeful of turf. The college band played, a short prayer opened the ceremony, and then Dr. Pihlblad stepped forward in his decorative university gown and made a forceful speech. Then came my turn to reply. Next it was a matter of digging up a fair-size bit of turf. Thanks to the extraordinary keen edge of the spay, this required no effort. But just then the ubiquitous film cameras happened by some mischance to get out of order, and I had to do the whole thing over again. To escape them was as impossible here as elsewhere in the free republic, for, apropos them, a sort of terrorism reigns, founded on an unwritten law to which all, high or low, must bow.
"After the ceremony was ended we passed down aisles formed by schoolchildren, many in Swedish national costumes and with flags in their hands, to the auditorium nearby. It is an ugly round wooden structure, which one gladly sees Lindsborg discard for something new and more suitable. But it has honorable traditions, for within its walls the Messiah Chorus has celebrated its greatest triumphs. It was to do so again. After two little girls had presented me with an illustrated historical sketch of the town, written by pupils in the high school and serving as an excellent example of their literary and artistic development, Professor Hagbard Brase lifted his baton. There was a stir in the large chorus. All settled down to wait. Then the oratorio welled forth, mighty, rushing, soul dust stirring.
"Soon the first houses in Lindsborg come into view. There numbers increase, and before we know it we are in the very heart of the town. They are so neat and well taken care of, these low buildings, which often are fairly imbedded in verdure. Through the open windows one can almost catch the odor of newly scrubbed floors or freshly laundered clothes. As it lies here in the sunshine, the community is like the Swedish idyll; and, after all, they are kinsmen, by far the majority of these who dwell behind the fluttering chords of the window shades. A window without a shade does not exist in America. And here, as elsewhere, our countrymen have become as Americanized in their customs and homes as Americans themselves.
"Also here in Lindsborg the red, white, and blue and the blue and yellow were seen everywhere, swaying gently in the mild breeze. Festive decorations abounded, and all was in holiday garb in the middle of the week. Along the streets the crowds grew denser, and as we drove up to the square in front of the large red main building of the college it was packed with people.
"Here one met representatives of the community, professors, instructors, ministers and prominent citizens, none named and none forgotten. They all looked so exceedingly friendly and glad that they warmed cockles of one's heart. On all sides one heard Swedish spoken, and now and then someone stepped out from the crowd to shake hands and send a greeting home. One hand after another pressed mine, and this would have continued for a long time had it not been for the waiting ceremonies. Ground was to be broken for a new auditorium that very day, and I had been asked to lift the first spadeful of turf. The college band played, a short prayer opened the ceremony, and then Dr. Pihlblad stepped forward in his decorative university gown and made a forceful speech. Then came my turn to reply. Next it was a matter of digging up a fair-size bit of turf. Thanks to the extraordinary keen edge of the spay, this required no effort. But just then the ubiquitous film cameras happened by some mischance to get out of order, and I had to do the whole thing over again. To escape them was as impossible here as elsewhere in the free republic, for, apropos them, a sort of terrorism reigns, founded on an unwritten law to which all, high or low, must bow.
"After the ceremony was ended we passed down aisles formed by schoolchildren, many in Swedish national costumes and with flags in their hands, to the auditorium nearby. It is an ugly round wooden structure, which one gladly sees Lindsborg discard for something new and more suitable. But it has honorable traditions, for within its walls the Messiah Chorus has celebrated its greatest triumphs. It was to do so again. After two little girls had presented me with an illustrated historical sketch of the town, written by pupils in the high school and serving as an excellent example of their literary and artistic development, Professor Hagbard Brase lifted his baton. There was a stir in the large chorus. All settled down to wait. Then the oratorio welled forth, mighty, rushing, soul dust stirring.
T H E A M E R I C A N S C A N D I N A V I A N R E V I E W
Pages 105-106
Pages 105-106
"I have rarely heard music that has been so wholly sustained by inspired enthusiasm. The voices rang out, clear and beautiful; the orchestra was properly modulated without thereby losing any of its melodic beauty. Even the most difficult passages came off with flying colors. The unison was, in short, exemplary, and the oratorio welled forth like a mighty billow, filling the hall from floor to ceiling with beautiful harmonies. The tones lived. One could hear them vibrate with fervor and devotion, and it was easy to understand how they in this way have held generation after generation spellbound and how a whole continent can have nothing but praise for the results. It is verily as if this Messiah Chorus is dominated by an artistic inspiration, some primeval love creation that places it on a plane by itself.
Photograph by B. G. Gröndahl
PRINCE WILHELM BREAKING GROUND FOR THE NEW AUDITORIUM
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PRINCE WILHELM BREAKING GROUND FOR THE NEW AUDITORIUM
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"Possibly a musical critic with his trained ear may be able to detect a flaw here and there in the rendering; none the less, he can only give full hearted praise to the sincerity of feeling of integrity and purpose. For where enthusiasm, joined with love for the work, is found, there too is found something of the indescribable that speaks directly to the heart of men. Then art has become productive; then it has attained its goal: to lift us outside ourselves so that we can get a glimpse of the immortality of genius and the flight of the spirit toward realms beyond the stars."
"It was an exceptionally enjoyable hour, which passed all too quickly. As we went out, the sun was just setting, and it painted the western sky in colors of bronze and purple such as one can see only in the billowing Kansas prairies. Its last rays played with the tender green of the treetops, and in the distance came the faint pealing of a bell. One could hardly have wished for a better finale to the Händel music.
"It was an exceptionally enjoyable hour, which passed all too quickly. As we went out, the sun was just setting, and it painted the western sky in colors of bronze and purple such as one can see only in the billowing Kansas prairies. Its last rays played with the tender green of the treetops, and in the distance came the faint pealing of a bell. One could hardly have wished for a better finale to the Händel music.
T H E A M E R I C A N S C A N D I N A V I A N R E V I E W
Page 106
Page 106
"After a short visit to the library we went to the Pihlblad home, where the dinner table stood spread in Swedish style. The host, a sister to the now world-renowned film director, Victor Sjostrom, knew what comfort requires and had not forgotten how Swedish hospitality is exercised in its most attractive manner. Everything inside was so pleasant and neat, so orderly and decorative, that it clearly revealed the zealous care of an efficient and careful housewife. Had it not been for the obligatory rocking-chair, into which the guest of honor willingly let himself be thrust after the dinner was ended, one might have imagined having been transported to some peaceful parsonage at home somewhere in the country. We discussed music and decided unanimously that Lindsborg was unique in more than one respect.
"But in America one is always in a hurry. It is part of the game. Only at rare intervals does one find time to settle down in peace and enter deeply into discussion of a problem or attempt to collect the days varied experiences into a connected hole. And so it was not long until we were again on our way to the auditorium. But this time it was I myself who was the occasion for the move. Soon I stood on the stage and addressed, as so many times before, a rapt audience, while the primitive nature folk and wild animals of Africa past in review on the white screen behind my back. Never had the hours on the film run their course so swiftly as now. It was a pleasure to speak to this attentive audience. And the best of all came afterwards, when I talked for a little while in Swedish and brought a greeting from the old homeland. If the contact between stage and hall had been lively before, now it was strengthened and became a strong band that linked us with the common language, a common origin, and communion of thoughts. It was as if I had been standing in some little country town in Sweden instead of in a distant spot in a strange country. There was a coughing and clearing of throats in the audience. Here and there a handkerchief was needed. For the Swedish American is easily stirred when one speaks to him about his old country. He quickly becomes sentimental and secretly wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. That is comes from a wellspring of genuine feeling, no one can doubt.
"Later in the evening the motor cars again rolled on and away from Lindsborg. It had been an eventful day, an experience worth remembering and It had been an eventful day, an experience worth remembering and reflecting upon. Over the prairies hung the moon, yellow as a Chinese Lantern, as the lights from the Swedish community sped by. Soon the last gleam from this remarkable cultural oasis in the wide-spreading Kansas had been swallowed by the darkness of night. But in the ears rang still the final melodies of the last Hallelujah of Händel harmonious Messiah. A high voice with the unmistakable ring of the North broke forth and seemed to vibrate longer and more intimately than the others. A clear Swedish voice."
"But in America one is always in a hurry. It is part of the game. Only at rare intervals does one find time to settle down in peace and enter deeply into discussion of a problem or attempt to collect the days varied experiences into a connected hole. And so it was not long until we were again on our way to the auditorium. But this time it was I myself who was the occasion for the move. Soon I stood on the stage and addressed, as so many times before, a rapt audience, while the primitive nature folk and wild animals of Africa past in review on the white screen behind my back. Never had the hours on the film run their course so swiftly as now. It was a pleasure to speak to this attentive audience. And the best of all came afterwards, when I talked for a little while in Swedish and brought a greeting from the old homeland. If the contact between stage and hall had been lively before, now it was strengthened and became a strong band that linked us with the common language, a common origin, and communion of thoughts. It was as if I had been standing in some little country town in Sweden instead of in a distant spot in a strange country. There was a coughing and clearing of throats in the audience. Here and there a handkerchief was needed. For the Swedish American is easily stirred when one speaks to him about his old country. He quickly becomes sentimental and secretly wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. That is comes from a wellspring of genuine feeling, no one can doubt.
"Later in the evening the motor cars again rolled on and away from Lindsborg. It had been an eventful day, an experience worth remembering and It had been an eventful day, an experience worth remembering and reflecting upon. Over the prairies hung the moon, yellow as a Chinese Lantern, as the lights from the Swedish community sped by. Soon the last gleam from this remarkable cultural oasis in the wide-spreading Kansas had been swallowed by the darkness of night. But in the ears rang still the final melodies of the last Hallelujah of Händel harmonious Messiah. A high voice with the unmistakable ring of the North broke forth and seemed to vibrate longer and more intimately than the others. A clear Swedish voice."
To learn more about Prince Wilhelm of Sweden, go HERE.
* * *
"Let Us Celebrate Them"
* * *
Swedes: TheWayTheyWere
~ restoring lost local histories ~
reconnecting past to present
* * *
All color photography throughout Swedes: The Way They Were is by Fran Cochran unless otherwise indicated.
Copyright © since October 8, 2015 to Current Year
as indicated on main menu sections of
www.swedesthewaytheywere.org. All rights reserved.
* * *
"Let Us Celebrate Them"
* * *
Swedes: TheWayTheyWere
~ restoring lost local histories ~
reconnecting past to present
* * *
All color photography throughout Swedes: The Way They Were is by Fran Cochran unless otherwise indicated.
Copyright © since October 8, 2015 to Current Year
as indicated on main menu sections of
www.swedesthewaytheywere.org. All rights reserved.
