Our Two Mothers

When Dianne and I got married, my mother was living with me. This picture was taken about 2001 when Helen was 94 and Irene was 84. Helen lived to 96.



This picture was taken about 2001 when Helen was 94 and Irene was 84.

Later Dianne's mother Irene came to live with us. She was 92 when she passed away. Both of them were well and active until the final few month.

One Woman Dog

Lisa was intended to be the family dog, but she quickly decided my mother Helen was the alpha. She ignored the rest of us.

I remember when she arrived. She was four months old and was in a wood crate that seemed not much bigger than she. She had been shipped from Maine. The trip was made more stressful by a pilot's strike that left her sitting at Chicago's O'Hare airport for four days. My parents were very worried about her. She was OK, but it took several weeks for her to settle in.



She was an indoor dog mostly, but every morning she was let out to run. There were no fences and she would be gone a couple of hours. She ranged quite far, but never got into trouble.

Coming out West

This is my maternal great grandmother, Lydia Ann Pettit. The picture was taken in 1859 when she was sixteen years old.



She came with her family from Pennsylvania in a covered wagon train. They were farmers and settled in Illinois.

The only story I know is that my great grandfather saw her sitting on the tongue of her family's wagon and fell in love at first sight.

Gentleman by Act of Congress

When America declared war against Germany in 1917, my father did what many young patriotic men did and joined the army. As an MD, he was made a second lieutenant and went to France as part of the American Expeditionary Force. He was a flight surgeon in the Army Air Corp and was soon promoted to captain. He was in France for three years until the war was "over, over there".



He left the Army in 1921 and received a full disability retirement. I believe that he had contracted tuberculosis in France, which made him unfit for service. At that time, many people died from tuberculosis, and most others were not able to work.

He spent his whole life on tuberculosis treatment. At that time there was no cure for tuberculosis, but a lot could be done with rest and proper nutrition. He had a remarkable success rate for getting it in remission and people back with their families.

Professional Organist

Pat was a very accomplished organist. After we got married, our first major purchase was this Allen church model with a full pedal board and a nice selection of basic stops. It was a main feature in our home for almost 30 years.

We had gone window shopping for the fun of it, thinking that the instruments were way beyond our reach. We were amazed and thrilled to find out that they would finance it at a very low rate of interest and manageable payments. Credit was much harder to get in 1964 than it is now.



When I met her, she was one of the organists at the First Church of Christ, Scientist in Berkeley. The building is wonderful, designed by Bernard Maybeck in 1910, a historical monument and considered to be his best work.



We spent a lot of time in the loft while she practiced. The console is up in the loft with the pipes. There is a small sitting room and a bathroom for the organist. It is its own little world, connected to the rest of the church by a small mirror and a signal light.

Camp Sequoia

There were half a dozen youth camps on this private lake in the mountains near the Sequoia National Forest. Camp Sequoia was run by the Fresno YMCA and had 2-week sessions through the summer. We got swimming badges and crafts, and a bonfire with singing and stories at night. I remember it fondly.



My brother Don and I went there two years as campers. In the summer between my freshman and sophomore years in high school I went back as Junior Staff. These were assistant cabin leaders who also did some cleanup work. There was plenty of unscheduled time and the work was not too hard.

That year the third cook did not show up and they were stuck. In desperation they ask the junior staff if anyone could cook. I raised my hand so I got promoted. It was great, I had my own room in the staff quarters and it was paid, $5 a day. The job consisted of opening cans and moving crates and boxes, doing whatever the first or second cook told me to do. It was a great summer!

International Man of Mystery

My father was 52 years old when I was born. I knew him as a big fish in a small pond, the Medical Director and Superintendent of a tuberculosis sanitorium.

He had a quiet life and worked 9-to-5 hours except when there was a rare after hours emergency. They never went out at night, happy to be with one another and the children.



He said very little about his life before he and my mother got married. It turn out that he was well known and highly respected. He had an active public life and was and had given lectures all over the world. He had been Clinical Director of the U.S. Public Health Service and had developed the technology that made large scale screening for tuberculosis possible.



One idea that was often repeated in our house was that they held the Duke and Duchess of Windsor as their role models. That he had given up everything for the woman he loved.

And they lived happily ever after.

Four Generations

The Lindbergs together. We have children later in life than many families, so we were happy to be able to get four generations in the same picture. My mother had been living with me for about a year in 1999 when this was taken.

My mother, Helen, is holding Alexis, whom Rich and I are admiring. She was my first grandchild.

Rich's First Beach Trip

When I had been back at work for a year, we were able to take a vacation in San Diego.

Rich was only a year and a half old and naturally a little wary of the water. But soon enough he was running up the beach, laughing as he got away from the waves.

Rich and Lori's Wedding

The wedding was in Balboa Park and was a grand affair. It even included members of the Bolshoi Ballet. It was a chance to see all the cousins. There are two from each of the Andersen girls.

Tim and Elizabeth are Robie's, while Lindsey and Meredith are Sue's. We got them to sit still for a second to get a picture of them with the two Helens. Helen Andersen on the left and Helen Lindberg on the right.

It was a beautiful setting. Here is Helen Andersen with her daughters Pat and Sue shortly before the start of the wedding.

Rough Duty

I spent four years in the army at the end of the 60s. One of the years was spent on the Czech border with West Germany. It was a single Army Security Agency company and we were the first line of defense if Russian tanks ever came across the border.

It was not very much like being in the Army at all. We got $18 a day, double the usual temporary duty pay and lived "on the economy". Pat and I drove all over Europe and had a great time.



The Command wanted to show the dedication of the Agency so they picked a picture of the worst looking duty station they could find, ours. The place was tiny and the picture shows about a third of it. Luckily we didn't actually live there, just rode up the mountain in the back of a "deuce" for our work shift.

Christmas in Napa

Pat and I lived in Oakland and went up to visit the Andersens in Napa often. This picture is from Christmas 1964.

Sue was in high school and was already dating David.

My Lucky Day

My mother, Helen Lindberg, grew up a farm girl from Illinois. She never talked much about it but wrote this in 1989.

In the early years of the twentieth century, an important source of energy on midwestern farms was equine. Our small farm depended most on a team of big mules, Tom and Jerry. As in all animal communities, the pecking order had been quickly established and Jerry Mule was undisputed king of our barnyard. Any animal arguing with his right to drink first or eat first would be immediately reminded by the dynamite in his two hind legs.

As a three year old, I loved to meet my father when he returned from the fields. One sunny day, escaping my mother's vigilance, I toddled into the barnyard carrying a few stalks of timothy hay. Going up behind the drinking mule, I proceeded to tickle him above the hind hocks. My father emerged from the stable fifty feet away just in time to see Jerry squat to release that powerful kick. Then the mule paused long enough to look around. Seeing that his annoyer was a child, he relaxed and went on drinking.

Because Jerry Mule had "horse sense", I lived seventy three years to tell the tale!

Helen Lindberg was the youngest, seventeen years younger than her next older sister. The picture is from about 1910.

Back Packing

During the 1970s, Pat and I were part of a small group of hard-core backpackers. We were recreational and did not hike all the time, but the hikes we took were real hikes, not strolls along a park trail. And we tried to leave everything as it was, as if we had never been there. That's Pat leading the way down to the lake.

The hikes were too hard for Rich and Mike and they stayed with Grandpa and Grandma Andersen. But as Rich got older, we took him on a hike or two where we tent camped in the VW bus.

This is a late summer hike on Donner Summit. Rich is eating snow with a drink mix powder on top.