Six-year-old Anna Ovedia stood on the dock with her parents and younger sister Pauline. How could they leave their home? Why must they leave their home? This land of Norway with its icy fjords, sharp, high mountains, snowy winters and short sunny summers was all she’d ever known. She looked up at her mother and held her hand tightly, fearful of all the noise and the crowd waiting to get on the boat, the shouting of the sailors, so many things going on at once. Mama had told her they were going to America, a place where they would find farmland and have sheep and cows and it would be a wonderful life. More wonderful than what they were leaving? She already missed Sirri, their cat. What a comfort it would be to be holding Sirri right now. Papa said they were going on an adventure. But Anna didn’t like adventure that took her away from her home. She would try to be brave.
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Anna Ovedia is my grandmother, or should I say “was” my grandmother. She passed away over 25 years ago now. She was born in 1900 in Norway, where she lived until her family emigrated to the United States in August of 1906. For years I have wanted to write a fiction version of her story, sort of like Laura Ingalls Wilder did about her own life. The challenges are that my grandmother didn’t talk about her past very much and there are very few photos of her younger years. Her mother died when Annie was 14 and she, along with her 4 younger brothers and sisters were taken from their father and put into the Owatonna State School. Some years ago I was able to get all the documents from that period in her life. I still remember the day that packet of information came in the mail. I sat and read it and couldn’t put it down, even to make lunch for the kids (“you’re on your own!”).
This is the first, very short installment. I’d like to keep going with it and will need to start sorting through all the documents and genealogical information I got from my Mom, who did a lot of family history research back in the day. I’m wondering if I should change her name or try to disguise her identity in some way if I’m going to publish this fictionalized story of her life on a public blog. Thoughts?
By the way, they really did have a cat named “Sirri” back in Norway.
I’ll probably delete this in the morgen.
Lynniebeemuseoday 
I would definitely like to read a book like this.
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Please write the book. I know I would love it. I really wish I had more information on my great grandmother coming to America. She was 18 years old and took a boat by herself from Germany to Ellis Island, NY. Then the train from NY to northern CA. to meet and marry my grandfather who had come over earlier. (in the late 1800s). I just can’t imagine that adventure and wish I knew more about it.
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There are so many interesting stories out there, especially among our ancestors. It’s hard to think that someone would ever find our lives worthy or writing about, isn’t it? 😊
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