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.

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 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.

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.