Versos Polifaséticos -, Part 1

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AuthorHouse, 2008 - Poetry - 148 pages
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My father, Per, came to the United States during the potato famine and depression in Shilafors, Sweden at the age of 18.  Alfred Rosenquist, his future father-in-law, sponsored him to come to the United States to help on the Rosenquist family farm west of Burnside, Iowa, a small rural community near Fort Dodge, Iowa. My father started courting my mother, Myrtle Rosenquist, by borrowing my grandpa and grandma's horse and buggy and escorting her to the Sunday church services at Burnside.  In 1917, love bloomed, they were married and soon thereafter started a family.


I grew up during the 1920's and 1930's in a rural community. Our family moved around (at least 5 times) to adjust to the depression and survive the hard times. We helped our parents supplement their income with part time jobs, mostly from a milk, cream, egg and farm produce route to Fort Dodge on the weekends.  The depression was unquestionably a unique experience in survival. My childhood encounters during the Depression coupled with the adventures of my teen years helped shape the rest of my life.


On weekends, when dad and mom had a spare nickel or dime and we had earned it with extra chores, we wound up at Park Theater in Fort Dodge. The theater had cowboy shows that were continued each following weekend, like a serial. On the way home we would stop at the Gold Bar for a malt, which cost a nickel. It was crushed up ice, flavoring and very little milk. We would get wimpy hamburgers for a nickel and classic Iowa Maidrites (ground beef, onions and seasoning) that would melt in your mouth.


During the Depression, I worked once a week folding and mailing newspapers at the Dayton Review for 50 cents a week. Our family would combine the money from the egg and milk route to Fort Dodge plus the extra money the family made, and we would buy salt, sugar, flour and other incidentals. Our clothes were hand-me-downs.


Although we endured the Depression and just generally lived in a state of what is now referred to as "economically disadvantaged," we had a great life. When WWII, was underway, Mom and Dad gave me permission to enlist as a cadet for pilot training, even though I had a farm deferment. While I thought I knew what it was, I didn't know real fear until I had lots of people trying to kill me while I was flying in a B-24 over previously scenic Europe. 



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