| The Story Of Helfred Matson & Mary Garson |
 |
 |
| one-way street the wrong way and honk right back at those who honked at him. I am not surprised. The story goes that George would drive down a one-way street the wrong way and honk right back at those who honked at him. I wasn?t a witness to this, but knowing George, I am not surprised. Little could anyone have known that when George bought his carsfrom Harold?s Chevrolet in the 1940s, he may very well have made the deal with my wife?s uncle Dick Zieske, who was a car salesman there. Waldo, Nettie and George?s son, gives me pleasant memories. He was a career manager with 3M, and retired very high in the organization. A smart man, Waldo was as comfortable at our simple norwegian family get togethers as I am sure he was as an executive with 3M. Waldo would light up our family events with his special charisma. He could have been the Governor of any state and perhaps president of our country, but did better than that. Nettie and George also had an adopted or foster son, Burton, who I know I met, but know little of for now. Thora and Otto Anderson lived just outside Strum on the Garson homestead, which, by the way, is still in the family with a grand daughter of Mariann and Stanley Berg. Thora made a ?mean? cinnamon toast. She always had a special treat ready for us if we were sliding or sking on the Garson hill, next door. Otto was a pattern-maker, a wood pattern maker. The need for this skill esentially disappeared with the onset of plastic or fiberglas molds, but was critical before that time. And he was the best. Otto was a master woodworker, whether by self or schooled training, I don?t know. He carried the scar of the trade with him in the form of a bendless, rigid middle finger. Use your imagination about how approaching drivers might have responded to him when his hand was on the top of the steering wheel with that rigid middle finger sticking straight up. We all laugh and tell the story at every family event about when Otto, who always backed his car with the rear view mirror, back across the highway and into the ditch because someone had removed the mailbox. Thora and Otto?s rural mail box was on the south side of Hiway 10 right at the end of their driveway. Otto always placed his mail box in that mirror and no doubt was looking for it all the way into the ditch. It never appeared and the ditch was not shallow. Thank goodness the traffic was sparse. Otto and Thora had two children, the first died as an infant. The second was always known to me as Funte. Florence, married Harold Bishop and for years they lived in Indiana. Their daughter, Barbara and her family still live in Indiana. I visited both families when I was stationed in Indianapolis for military training in 1966. Ellen and Harold, for a long time, lived in Washington state. They had no children. As a kid I can recall waiting for their Christmas gift, every year. Every year they sent me and maybe other kids a present, and it always arrived well before Christmas. I have to confess that I also knew what was in those packages well before Christmas and the official |