Syttende Mai
Strum, Wisconsin
Page 3 of 4
by Ralph Heath

So, “Skol” and “Skol pa fisken”,
“Hors und gorta” and “Vata bra”.
“Are you in town too”?
And the mountains echoed “Yah”.

And each year on Syttende Mai
When the race was done,
They thanked their God for ice and snow
In the land of the Midnight Sun.

And time went by as time will do,
And little children came---
Thorson, Jensen, Larson, Carlson,
And Haakonson was their name.

The kids grew up as kids will do.
One year they really come
Like a wave of Nordic immigrants
To the little town of Strum

“As we live here in the New World
We will not forget the old.
We will keep traditions going
‘Cause we like the snow and cold”.

So each year in the Midwest
They performed this ritual stunt---
The Norwegians chased the Swedes;
The Swedes followed right in front.

From Fairchild to Mondovi
Each year they could be seen
As they ran through both these towns
And some that’s in between.

The Norwegian immigrants came out
And the street in Strum was full
Connie Johnstad played the music of
Edvard Grieg and Ole Bull.

And each year on Syttende Mai
When the race was done---
They pledged to meet again next year
‘Cause it was so much fun.

And time went by as time will do
And then grandchildren came---
They couldn’t do what their fathers did
So they had to keep their name.

Grandkids grew up as grandkids do
And as their Dads grew old---
They said, “We’re going to Arizona,
We can’t stand the snow and cold”.
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