Bold Spirit - Linda Hunt [63]
With the new contract arranged, the book plans made, and Helga and Clara homeward bound, they expressed excitement to soon be under their own roof in Washington State. Then they spoke of the value they placed on their experiences. Clara, who earlier admitted to being sick of the trip, now said she “considers that the trip is worth as much to her as a college course, for she has gained an extended knowledge of the country and has become adept in the reading of human nature.”8 Clara also expressed confidence that she could now handle rough situations when they arose. She usually carried the gun filled with insect powder and “brought it into play several times” when highwaymen and tramps attempted to accost her mother. She told how effectively the gun filled with red pepper worked: “a generous charge of the blinding pepper was as good as a whole police force.”9
The newspapers stressed the women’s mental abilities. “Both are women of high intellect and possess fine conversational powers.… and are enthusiastic over their work and adventures,” noted the Minneapolis Times reporter. The Times also commented on the different political perspectives the mother and daughter held on the presidential candidates and free-silver election issues, recognizing their ability to think independently and disagree.10 The Minneapolis Tribune reporter agreed, stating that both were apt talkers, and “although of Scandinavian birth, spoke the English language fluently and entertainingly.”11
Declaring that “Mrs. Esby [sic] and Clara are the wife and daughter of a respectable Washington farmer,” the Times added that the trip was partly planned for the health of Mrs. Estby, who “was threatened with consumption” and has now “regained entirely her fast failing health.”12 In no other newspaper was this reported. The women planned to remain in Minneapolis for a few days and then “endeavor in some manner” to secure train tickets home.
Helga evidently did not mention to the Minneapolis newspapers information on the death of her daughter Bertha or that diphtheria had invaded the home. It had been a month now since they had heard this disheartening news in Brooklyn. By this time, Helga and Clara may have come to some sense of peace, perhaps helped by the Norwegian Lutheran perspective on eternity. In this belief system, pastors often gave solace to grieving families that their beloved ones lived on in Heaven. Bertha’s brief life belonged to God, and as a bereft mother and sister they likely found comfort in their church teachings that one day they would be reunited with their loved ones. Because they had been on the road with no reliable address, it is doubtful they knew of Johnny’s death.
These two extensive articles conveyed the excitement the reporters felt about the value of Helga and Clara’s upcoming book. Shorter newspaper articles had left much unsaid, especially concerning day-to-day life. Helga’s book promised the possibility of a sweeping eyewitness record of American life in the great cities and unknown frontiers during the turbulent turn of the century. Stories showing their encounters with the humble and famous, including the nation’s political leadership, could offer a glimpse into the fabric of American character. During an era where “the woman question” loomed large, Clara’s differing ideas would add a fascinating generational viewpoint.
Their voices could also augment the male nature writers of the era in revealing how the grandeur and the harshness of the American landscape refreshed or intimidated them. And a book would offer insight into the emotional landscape of Helga, an articulate, complex, and intelligent immigrant woman living in an in-between era for women. Her own