"The Other Swedes"
~ Honoring Him and His Works ~
B.G. Gröndal
Accounts by Mr. Abercrombie and Mrs. Jaderborg with LINK to
Mrs. Margaret Eddy’s book review
~ Honoring Him and His Works ~
B.G. Gröndal
Accounts by Mr. Abercrombie and Mrs. Jaderborg with LINK to
Mrs. Margaret Eddy’s book review
Bror Gustaf Gröndal
(1855-1948)
“Dean of Kansas Photographers”
From 1887 to 1945 for 58 years
(1855-1948)
“Dean of Kansas Photographers”
From 1887 to 1945 for 58 years
Source: Tom Nelson, Find a Grave
~BG~
Mr. Chris Abercrombie's
"B. G. GRONDAL PHOTOGRAPHER"
Mr. Gröndal story was produced by historian, author Chris Abercrombie,
Smoky Valley Historical Association President in 2010
Mr. Chris Abercrombie's
"B. G. GRONDAL PHOTOGRAPHER"
Mr. Gröndal story was produced by historian, author Chris Abercrombie,
Smoky Valley Historical Association President in 2010
Sally A. Noyd
(B.G. Grondal's Wife)
by
Mrs. Elizabeth Jaderborg
from the
1973
Talk About Lindsborg,
Pages 19-22.
There was great excitement in Round Rock. The new schoolma'am had arrived. She was young, and she was pretty -- a native of Andover, Illinois. Pastor Martin Noyd‘s little sister, who had come for a visit, had decided to stay.
It is not difficult to imagine how the curtains must have been pulled aside – ever so slightly – as she walked gracefully down the road on her way to the school, the Texas breeze gently ruffling her curly brown hair.
And it is not difficult to imagine how her big brown eyes must have opened wide in amazement as a great herd of cattle – being driven North straight through the heart of town by whooping cowboys, suddenly loomed ahead of her, blocking all possible escape.
But the cowboys gallant and friendly (especially where a pretty girl was concerned), swept off their sombreros, parted the herd, and escorted her through safely.
And Sarah Margaret Noyd (better known as Sally) loved it -- the hospitality, the openness. Here she would like to stay. But the very next year she was called north to Iowa to nurse her mother, who was very ill, back to health.
As fate would have it, her next visit was to Wahoo, Nebraska, where brother Martin had taken over responsibilities at Wahoo Academy. But for this significant tangent, Sally might never have had a part in the story of Lindsborg.
She was bilingual (understood, spoke and wrote two languages). Therefore, she was hired to teach English to the Swedish immigrants at the school. At the end of the school term, she became employed by a Wahoo photographer. Gradually, Sally learned the rudiments of the craft, becoming particularly adept at the art of retouching.
The new skill and trade fascinated her, and she soon found herself ready to open a studio of her own.
Now it was back to Round Rock, Texas, for Sally Noyd -- where there was no photographer, and consequently no competition. She opened her studio.
One hot day, when she was having difficulty with developing solution, a stranger dropped in. He introduced himself. He was, he said, Bror Grondal, photographer. He knew all about developing solutions.
Into the Gröndal-Noyd Studio walked Dr. Carl Swenson. It was 1887, and Sally and B. G. had been married a year. The Kansas Conference of the Augustana Lutheran Church was meeting in Round Rock. Dr. Swensson, the famous pastor from Lindsborg, Kansas had much to do, but he took time out to look around.
It did not take him long to see that the Swedish couple who operated the photographic studio was doing work of unusually fine quality. Dr. Swensson had an eye for talent in all fields, and would, if he could, bring it all to Lindsborg.
Gradually, his irresistible personality and persuasiveness began to work their charm. “Why not come to Lindsborg and open a studio," he urged the couple. Lindsborg was a college town without a photographer. One was certainly needed, and the opportunities were seemingly endless.
Sally was reluctant to leave her Texas friends, but finally consented to try Kansas for one year, keeping the Round Rock studio open meanwhile – just in case!
It is not difficult to imagine how the curtains must have been pulled aside – ever so slightly – as she walked gracefully down the road on her way to the school, the Texas breeze gently ruffling her curly brown hair.
And it is not difficult to imagine how her big brown eyes must have opened wide in amazement as a great herd of cattle – being driven North straight through the heart of town by whooping cowboys, suddenly loomed ahead of her, blocking all possible escape.
But the cowboys gallant and friendly (especially where a pretty girl was concerned), swept off their sombreros, parted the herd, and escorted her through safely.
And Sarah Margaret Noyd (better known as Sally) loved it -- the hospitality, the openness. Here she would like to stay. But the very next year she was called north to Iowa to nurse her mother, who was very ill, back to health.
As fate would have it, her next visit was to Wahoo, Nebraska, where brother Martin had taken over responsibilities at Wahoo Academy. But for this significant tangent, Sally might never have had a part in the story of Lindsborg.
She was bilingual (understood, spoke and wrote two languages). Therefore, she was hired to teach English to the Swedish immigrants at the school. At the end of the school term, she became employed by a Wahoo photographer. Gradually, Sally learned the rudiments of the craft, becoming particularly adept at the art of retouching.
The new skill and trade fascinated her, and she soon found herself ready to open a studio of her own.
Now it was back to Round Rock, Texas, for Sally Noyd -- where there was no photographer, and consequently no competition. She opened her studio.
One hot day, when she was having difficulty with developing solution, a stranger dropped in. He introduced himself. He was, he said, Bror Grondal, photographer. He knew all about developing solutions.
Into the Gröndal-Noyd Studio walked Dr. Carl Swenson. It was 1887, and Sally and B. G. had been married a year. The Kansas Conference of the Augustana Lutheran Church was meeting in Round Rock. Dr. Swensson, the famous pastor from Lindsborg, Kansas had much to do, but he took time out to look around.
It did not take him long to see that the Swedish couple who operated the photographic studio was doing work of unusually fine quality. Dr. Swensson had an eye for talent in all fields, and would, if he could, bring it all to Lindsborg.
Gradually, his irresistible personality and persuasiveness began to work their charm. “Why not come to Lindsborg and open a studio," he urged the couple. Lindsborg was a college town without a photographer. One was certainly needed, and the opportunities were seemingly endless.
Sally was reluctant to leave her Texas friends, but finally consented to try Kansas for one year, keeping the Round Rock studio open meanwhile – just in case!
Bror Gröndal came from Round Rock, Texas, to establish his first Lindsborg photography studio on the west side of North Main Street
Photograph and Text from: "Talk About Lindsborg," page 21
B.G. and Sally lived in a cottage at 411 N. Main, Lindsborg. It was small, but as new members of the family arrived (six girls and one boy) new rooms were added -- until it reached its present size. A new brick studio with a huge skylight was built on the corner of State and Maine, and the Grondals were kept busy, busy, busy.
After the children had gone to homes of their own, and the sand pile, the parallel bars, rope-swings and sailor hammocks had been removed from her spacious yard, Mother Gröndal had room for a garden. Flowers bloomed where her children had played: Rose (who died in 1914); Lillian (Dahlquist), Garfield, Kansas, and Lordsburg, New Mexico; Ruth (Dean), Pennington, New Jersey; Eunice (Bengston), near Tacoma, Washington; Elsie (Harries), Seattle, Washington; Edith (Carlson), Seattle, Washington; and Bror L., University of Washington, Seattle, Washington.
This was home, and had been for a long, long time. So Lindsborg had become her home. And Sally and B. G.‘s pictures tell the story of nearly 60 years of this town‘s history -- from the late 1880s to 1945. And the family albums of this area attest to Dr. Swensson sound judgment of the work of two dedicated young people from Round Rock, Texas.
After the children had gone to homes of their own, and the sand pile, the parallel bars, rope-swings and sailor hammocks had been removed from her spacious yard, Mother Gröndal had room for a garden. Flowers bloomed where her children had played: Rose (who died in 1914); Lillian (Dahlquist), Garfield, Kansas, and Lordsburg, New Mexico; Ruth (Dean), Pennington, New Jersey; Eunice (Bengston), near Tacoma, Washington; Elsie (Harries), Seattle, Washington; Edith (Carlson), Seattle, Washington; and Bror L., University of Washington, Seattle, Washington.
This was home, and had been for a long, long time. So Lindsborg had become her home. And Sally and B. G.‘s pictures tell the story of nearly 60 years of this town‘s history -- from the late 1880s to 1945. And the family albums of this area attest to Dr. Swensson sound judgment of the work of two dedicated young people from Round Rock, Texas.
Partners for Life
(B.G. & Sally)
(B.G. & Sally)
Poor Gustaf Grondal found himself floating ashore on a bale of cotton in the Gulf of Mexico. His 12-year-old career as a sailor had come to an abrupt end. If he survive this, he would head for Chicago, he decided.
At fourteen, Bror, the ninth of his widowed mother's eleven children, had persuaded her to let him join a group of folks immigrating from Uppsala, Sweden, to Sanford, Florida, to work in the orange groves. Most of the pay was to be in land rather than in dollars.
He had left Sweden, as planned, in 1869, and had gone right to work as soon as he landed in Florida.
Then malaria had struck. B. G.‘s pain had been almost unbearable.
“A long sea voyage is the only cure," the doctor had advised.
Since B. G.‘s ambition had always been to go to sea, he lost no time in signing up on a clipper ship, sailed “around the Horn," put into port after port, and worked with a hardiest crews – including some in the United States Coast Guard and the United States Revenue Service.
Now he was bobbing landward on a bale of cotton, becoming more determined with every “bob" to put ashore for awhile.
Chicago, maybe. Yes, Chicago.
Chicago was unlike anything he had ever known -- the excitement of a Westward advance and the crisscrossing of the cultured and the uncultured. It was here that B. G. was to see the unforgettable performances by Edwin Booth in Hamlet and other plays on stage. [Edwin was the brother of John Wilkes Booth who assassinated president Lincoln.]
But, while visiting a cousin in Saint Paul, it was B. G.'s fate to meet the best photographer in the Twin Cities, a Mr. Palmquist. Before long, he was working as an apprentice to this artist.
It was a great life, and a great profession, but the climate in St. Paul, Minnesota, was miserable. So, B. G. decided to move south.
In Austin, Texas, he met a man who knew nothing about photography but who had become the owner of a portable studio and its equipment. B. G. became his operator. Together they took off for West Texas, the Wild, Wild West – dodging the "shoot-'em-ups" and calmly producing tin- types of heroes and would-be heroes alike.
It was after this tour that he dropped in on Sally Noyd's studio in Round Rock. Before long they became partners -- for life.
After Round Rock, Texas, came Lindsborg, Kansas. B. G. preferred the progressive Kansas town with its academic atmosphere, brick sidewalks, city water, sewers, street lighting and paving. He entered into the festivals enthusiastically.
When “Teddy" Roosevelt came to speak in Lindsborg in 1900, B. G. help decorate Ling Gymnasium. Since The Full Dinner Pail was Teddy‘s campaign slogan, there were dinner pails hung all over the hall . During his speech, T. R. frequently struck out at one close by to emphasize a point: “This full dinner pail . . ."
It was a great relief to B. G. when T. R. sat down. Every one of those dinner pails was empty, and none was too securely tied.
B. G. was not musical, but he was a good listener. When he did sing, his songs were the old beloved hymns, Uppsala students songs, American folk songs, cowboy ballads and sailors shanties.
He enjoyed his children’s nursery rhymes as much as they did, and no one could tell the story of the old woman and her recalcitrant pig as well as he could. Children loved him. It was a familiar sight to see the youngsters come trooping down the sidewalk to “see him home" after work.
The only position he ever held during his long membership in Bethany Church was that of usher. This was at a time when a group of hoodlums had been disturbing the vesper service. He advocated the use of a few buckets of water, judiciously administered by the ushers. The gang never returned.
Bror Gröndal was a member of the Photographers Association of Kansas from its beginning, and was later made a life member. He won many medals and awards for his work, and was especially commended for his unusual success with lighting.
Modern medical methods and materials made it possible for him to continue his work until he passed his 90th year. He still liked everything about photography, including his customers. But, he said, his eyes were wearing out – and Sally had died that year, 1945.
So, he close the studio and went to live with daughter Lillian in Garfield, Kansas. Here he died three years later in September, 1948. And they brought him back to rest next to Sally under the evergreens in Elmwood Cemetery.
At fourteen, Bror, the ninth of his widowed mother's eleven children, had persuaded her to let him join a group of folks immigrating from Uppsala, Sweden, to Sanford, Florida, to work in the orange groves. Most of the pay was to be in land rather than in dollars.
He had left Sweden, as planned, in 1869, and had gone right to work as soon as he landed in Florida.
Then malaria had struck. B. G.‘s pain had been almost unbearable.
“A long sea voyage is the only cure," the doctor had advised.
Since B. G.‘s ambition had always been to go to sea, he lost no time in signing up on a clipper ship, sailed “around the Horn," put into port after port, and worked with a hardiest crews – including some in the United States Coast Guard and the United States Revenue Service.
Now he was bobbing landward on a bale of cotton, becoming more determined with every “bob" to put ashore for awhile.
Chicago, maybe. Yes, Chicago.
Chicago was unlike anything he had ever known -- the excitement of a Westward advance and the crisscrossing of the cultured and the uncultured. It was here that B. G. was to see the unforgettable performances by Edwin Booth in Hamlet and other plays on stage. [Edwin was the brother of John Wilkes Booth who assassinated president Lincoln.]
But, while visiting a cousin in Saint Paul, it was B. G.'s fate to meet the best photographer in the Twin Cities, a Mr. Palmquist. Before long, he was working as an apprentice to this artist.
It was a great life, and a great profession, but the climate in St. Paul, Minnesota, was miserable. So, B. G. decided to move south.
In Austin, Texas, he met a man who knew nothing about photography but who had become the owner of a portable studio and its equipment. B. G. became his operator. Together they took off for West Texas, the Wild, Wild West – dodging the "shoot-'em-ups" and calmly producing tin- types of heroes and would-be heroes alike.
It was after this tour that he dropped in on Sally Noyd's studio in Round Rock. Before long they became partners -- for life.
After Round Rock, Texas, came Lindsborg, Kansas. B. G. preferred the progressive Kansas town with its academic atmosphere, brick sidewalks, city water, sewers, street lighting and paving. He entered into the festivals enthusiastically.
When “Teddy" Roosevelt came to speak in Lindsborg in 1900, B. G. help decorate Ling Gymnasium. Since The Full Dinner Pail was Teddy‘s campaign slogan, there were dinner pails hung all over the hall . During his speech, T. R. frequently struck out at one close by to emphasize a point: “This full dinner pail . . ."
It was a great relief to B. G. when T. R. sat down. Every one of those dinner pails was empty, and none was too securely tied.
B. G. was not musical, but he was a good listener. When he did sing, his songs were the old beloved hymns, Uppsala students songs, American folk songs, cowboy ballads and sailors shanties.
He enjoyed his children’s nursery rhymes as much as they did, and no one could tell the story of the old woman and her recalcitrant pig as well as he could. Children loved him. It was a familiar sight to see the youngsters come trooping down the sidewalk to “see him home" after work.
The only position he ever held during his long membership in Bethany Church was that of usher. This was at a time when a group of hoodlums had been disturbing the vesper service. He advocated the use of a few buckets of water, judiciously administered by the ushers. The gang never returned.
Bror Gröndal was a member of the Photographers Association of Kansas from its beginning, and was later made a life member. He won many medals and awards for his work, and was especially commended for his unusual success with lighting.
Modern medical methods and materials made it possible for him to continue his work until he passed his 90th year. He still liked everything about photography, including his customers. But, he said, his eyes were wearing out – and Sally had died that year, 1945.
So, he close the studio and went to live with daughter Lillian in Garfield, Kansas. Here he died three years later in September, 1948. And they brought him back to rest next to Sally under the evergreens in Elmwood Cemetery.
Their daughter Lillian who had married Henry Dahlquist would have daughter Margaret who would be the author of the book on her grandfather B.G. Gröndal in 2013.
To learn more, go HERE (not linked yet) to Mrs. Margaret Dahlquist Eddy ~ Chronicling the photography of Swedish B. G. Grondal's Lindsborg from 1887 to 1945.
To learn more, go HERE (not linked yet) to Mrs. Margaret Dahlquist Eddy ~ Chronicling the photography of Swedish B. G. Grondal's Lindsborg from 1887 to 1945.
Courtesy of the Bror Gustaf Gröndal Family
SOURCE: *Mrs. Jaderborg, a teacher at heart, made it clear that she was fine with the fact of using her work just as long as credit was given to her. She made that clear in some of her small books, (which were created from her 350 Lindsborg News-Record articles written from 1962 to 1969) coupled with the fact that her initial incentive to write all the stories that she did was for the Lindsborg children then who were not being taught about their own Lindsborg history.
* * *
"Let Us Remember 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 Remember 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.
