×
×
homepage logo
SUBSCRIBE

The Homefront: Our ancestors never knew us — but we know them

By D. Louise Brown - Special to the Standard-Examiner | May 30, 2023

D. Louise Brown

Standing in front of the century-old, peach-colored granite headstone of Ole Julius Hansen, two stories spring to mind: one about gunpowder, and the other about being in the right place at the right time.

The gunpowder story first (since that sounds more interesting). Legend has it that this great-grandfather, the blacksmith of the Northern Utah village he helped settle, regarded his new country of America as something to celebrate. Never one to sleep in late, even on a holiday (and apparently not concerned about anyone else who wanted to), he annually heralded in the Fourth of July by mounding up gunpowder on his hefty anvil and then, from the height of a nearby tree, dropping huge stones onto the pile until it exploded. The shot heard around the village, as reported by others, sounded very much like a cannon going off. It was loud enough to awaken residents to the glory of Independence Day celebrations.

Ole eventually upgraded his “alarm clock” by building an actual cannon. (He had the tools and the expertise, so why not?) Now residents were rudely awakened by a much more sophisticated method.

Ole was the kind of person I would like to have personally known.

On to the second story where being in the right place at the right time resulted in Ole’s place of rest and the headstone covering it remaining intact. A couple of years ago, while visiting his gravesite, I noticed something odd about his headstone. Closer inspection revealed it was crooked. When prodded, the entire upright part of the stone moved; it was detached from its horizontal base. Had I enough strength, I could have picked up his headstone and carted it away. As could anyone else who might have that inclination.

It was an alarming discovery, one that prompted me to check the several other family monuments in that pioneer cemetery. I found two others also unattached. I called the local monument company and within the week, the headstones were once again safely attached to their bases.

I was grateful for the chance to do something for Ole and the others. An annual visit to their gravesites to lay down a bouquet and spend a moment pondering their lives before moving on doesn’t seem like much of a tribute for the people — my people — who spent their whole lives being in the right place at the right time — in very large ways.

Take Ole, for example. According to family stories, this pioneer blacksmith could fashion any metal piece needed, from horse harness buckles to kitchen spoons. Farm equipment was dragged to his outdoor shop for repairs. He bent horseshoes to fit, rebuilt haying equipment to last and created metal gates for the new irrigation canals dug throughout the town.

Meanwhile, Ole’s wife, Kirsten, served as the area’s midwife, delivering hundreds of babies over the course of her years.

In their “spare time” the two built their home, raised their crops and livestock, and reared a large family of children (including my grandmother) who grew into adults as resourceful, hardy and wise as they were.

Their stories are compelling, as are the life stories of all our ancestors. We exist today because of those who lived before us. It’s strange they never knew us, but to the extent of our curiosity, we can learn all there is to know about them. It’s a healthy pursuit, this research of our ancestors. There is no wasted time in it — only discoveries that help us better understand ourselves because the people who made us live on in us.

In a very literal way, we owe our ancestors our lives. It’s a debt impossible to directly pay back. The best we can do is to try to be in the right place at the right time, doing the right things to honor who they were and what they did by who we are and what we become.

And maybe just stay away from gunpowder.

D. Louise Brown lives in Layton. She writes a biweekly column for the Standard-Examiner.

Newsletter

Join thousands already receiving our daily newsletter.

I'm interested in (please check all that apply)