SCHULTZ, Jenny Marie

  Notater:

Kilde: Ole Damgaard, 2018.

Source: geni.com (private user).

Jenny Marie Schultz
1899 - Cape Scott

The following is a letter or journal that Jenny wrote to her sister Marie in Iowa. John Holmes (Grandma 's Grandson and my cousin) has worked hard at preserving the authenticity of her words. There is such real emotion here, such apparent disappointment after the long journey from California. This is the only recorded mention of her complaining that I have read. It is a relief to know that she could complain, be discouraged and homesick. Can't you just imagine her sinking into the mud on that long hike in her new boots, with crying children? Possibly thinking : "I gave up a promising vocation to study the violin? I love Jens dearly, but OH, MY!, OH, MY!

This "letter" is dated 1905, but most probably was written much later in Jenny's life as a means of writing down some history. No attempt was made at correcting punctuation and spelling, and some of the words are not recognizable either from gramma's handwriting, or maybe some Danish or German had slipped in.

"Dear Sis.
In the wildest country up North at a place called Cape Scott, where we settled, live in a log house, the road was bould, just a few logs over a splass of matter, beautiful trees of all kinds and all kinds of berry's Huglel berry, Salmon berry's, Prand berry's and more. there were plenty of game, dear, cajat or racoon, bear's, mink, Swans, geese and ducks - a real paradise for hunter's and Fisherman.
This country needed men and wemen with good clean clear minds and body how ever they were, and only about 30 family and about 12 batcheler (bachelors) - Jamsen the leader, Somon, Knud Pete, N.R. Nielsen, our Postmaster C.B. Crestesen (Christiansen) our good Teacher, we all named him our professer; another one Ohces Holm and a few more I don't rember, O yes Mr: Skinner - and Mr: Niels Ohrestesen from N. Dacota.
Our first breakfast, beacon, tasted more like fish, well that that pick (pig) just had been living by the beach, eating fish, Eggs also a little taste of fish, but it tasted good, Pancake & Coffee was exselent - with Salman berry Jam. After breakfast we walked up to see that claim, with a log house, which ont ot the former batclar left, he left one on the same boat we came.
My was that a hard walk with my new high laced shoes on (which I bought in Salinas, California) over muddy road, over cardray (corduroy) road, some log laid loose roling water - , The children Ellen & Ted started to cry and me not far from, I said to my husband, that is some Contry you got us up in, witha a side glands at him, he give me a look, as much to say - don't give up. - - -
Well - I found out, the boat from Victoria would only stop here ones a Month on the 24th, my o my! can hear from my Parents in Cadar [Cedar]Falls Iowa one's a month!"

(A Salmonberry is "A showy, red flowered raspberry of the Pacific Coast, an edible salmon colored fruit")

The following excerpt is from an account written by Ellen Holmes years later. Ellen was three at the time of their arrival at Cape Scott:

"We arrived at Fisherman's Cove on the steamer. We were debarked in a freight sling over the side into a dory rowed by two men. Our first night was spent in a rough warehouse built of driftwood and shakes so it was well ventilated. It was dubbed "Castle Garden". Our first meal was of beautiful white fleshed Halibut, a new food to us, but it became a staple protein, interchanged with venison and duck."

The following is a Danish letter by Jenny, translated by Janet Mortensen:

Cape Scott March 23, 1907
"Dear Father!
The day after Jens wrote to his father, mother I mean, that evening became so late, there came two, to "forest crossers" down here, they had been out "staking" along with "Quatnino" and "West Arm," I mean another company.
Ya, what happened to the people here at the moment ... the same day, there were 8 Cape Scott people, that bought land west of "San Joseph" and there are still some places left, and they say the best is what's left, even if its C B Christiansen, he has even bought some, naturally the whole thing is speculations, they at the moment just build a "Shendy" (??) up and then take turns boating down and waiting and watching for the best time. I should maybe have written to Uncle Lauritz Hemmingsen. Olsen told me that Hermand had wanted to look around out there and travel upland.
Old Mrs. Olsen, keeps a find piece of Timber land. Yes, its going like in "waves" here at the Cape, just when they're all settled down then suddenly the race begins. My husband has not yet gotten land, he feels at the moment he has his hands full. You probably are wondering with what? And if all hasn't been sold, then one cent maybe will buy a piece.
C.B. Christiansen says: As soon as we get a road built, from West Arm and to San Joseph and a wharf, then he would not hesitate to write to the newspaper about this, he has never written a piece about Cape Scott that couldn't really see a begging here. Yes, I think I'll let this be up to you, you can choose if Uncle Lauritz should know this or not. I'm thinking, here is a chance for someone to buy land in the "West."
Last Saturday there came a faustic (traveler?) through here, and told us they had just discovered miles of Iron ore. There were almost 90 claims staked, you know, at Quantnino, they are supposed to be the largest in the world. And if it then means the land at San Joseph, then it must be sold quickly for Johannes.
You remember old Andersen's wood place, when, they are in Dakota suffering through hard times and ..... so they also can get a piece and yes, just if they could get away for that time. If Laurides should desire a trip down, she or you naturally are welcome in our little house, and if there should be others then we have a fine little Inn and more empty houses that could be used for a short while.
In the Summer there is a little excursion from here to San Joseph, both men and women, we'll be able to see everything in Sport, Hunting and Fishing down there. I don't know if you want to separate this letter, that's up to you father.
Now you must all have a great time.
Kindest greetings from us all, Jenny"

2. I remember Grandma Jenny
I remember Grandma Jenny
Submitted by JoEllen McComb Vinyard
Short stories of our family, 1940 to 1965
My grandmother, Jenny Marie Holmes was probably the most saintly person I will ever know. At one time I asked my mother, will we both be like Grandma Jenny when we are 80 years old? My logic was that time and life had shaped her into this almost fault free person. "No", my mother said with a smile, "She was always like this, even when she was a young woman. It has nothing to do with her age". "You and I will probably both be cranky when we are 80."
I never recall her angry, I never saw her upset or out of control. I am sure she had her moments when life was too much to bear, but she handled these privately. I remember her naps, perhaps twice a day, she would whisper to anyone nearby "I am going to take about 15 minutes". If she had her own room, she would go there and softly dose the door. If not, she would lie on the couch, covering her eyes with that black silk scarf with the deep red roses. In a few moments, she would relax and enter another quiet peaceful world. She sort of zoned out. There could be kids riding by on trikes, phones ringing, doorbells, dogs barking, nothing seemed to penetrate her quiet time. She was in her other world of peace and relaxation. Then, usually no more than 15 minutes, she would remove the scarf, open those beautiful pale blue eyes and smile as if she had 8 hours sleep. I think these "times out" are what kept her going for 104 years. She treated her body with respect. She gave herself a breather twice a day.
She was probably the original health food devotee. I had not seen "Prevention" magazine until I saw her reading it. She never tried to convince the rest of us about good health habits. It was as if we had to learn them on our own. She was not in control of our health, we were. She thought she should have each day, a little garlic, a little bit of chives, some pickle juice. Of course vegetables and fruit.
3.
And waste - she did not waste anything. I can still visualize her washing the breakfast dishes in a little inch of warm water with a few brave suds floating around the edges. Then, with that bare minimum of water used, she would carry the basin outside and water the plants. I had to remember each time I saw this, that while at Cape Scott and Campbell River she had to haul water much of the time. It was precious, and not to be wasted. She was the original composter person. Nothing was wasted, but always turned back to the earth, from whenst it came.
And her garden, how she loved her garden. The biggest rhubarb in all of Beacon Hill, even at age 100. (It was all that watering from the dish pan). Can you remember seeing her, arms behind her back, sort of strolling and inspecting her garden in the early morning hours? When I catch myself in that same posture in my own garden, I think of her and know she is still a part of all of us.
In the early 1960's, Grandma Jenny, Robby and I were living with my mother and dad on 4th North. Four generations! And we never were crowded or felt a lack of privacy. It was a happy time. Grandma Jenny and my dad were the only two early risers. They each cooked their own breakfast. My dad had an easily upset stomach. And an over active sense of smell. The healthy concoctions that Grandma Jenny would conjure in the morning were just too much for his delicateness. Finally he asked her "Would you mind if I cooked my breakfast first in the morning and then you could cook whatever you wanted to?" "Why Clarey, of course" (no one else had ever called him Clarey). So he would cook his bacon and eggs and get out of her way. She would then inventory the refrigerator, and make a trip outside to her chive patch. She would start out with your basic two scrambled eggs, then add chives, a few cloves of garlic, left over vegetables, whatever she could find that looked healthful - meatloaf, cheese, and all topped off with a dollop of pickle juice. By this time my dad was gratefully on his way to work and out of harms way. My mother used to say that often the dill pickles sat in the refrigerator, high and dry.
I used to believe that Grandma Jenny could adjust and handle every crisis man could invent. No matter what awful news came her way, she would sort of quietly tsk tsk - look down and a little sad ... Inevitably coming up with "Well, Mussen, it has got to be good for something". I swear that if I told her the end of the world was coming tomorrow, this would still be her most accepting response.
I never met anyone who didn't think Grandma Jenny was just plain wonderful. She had that affect on people. You knew she cared about you and she never seemed to need to talk about herself. She would become acquainted with her fellow passengers while riding the city bus. My mother used to worry about Grandma's habit of opening up conversations with strangers. But Grandma never gave much weight to my mother's advice, she would just smile and say "Dats okay, Mussen. doon worry."
On the other hand, she would talk on the phone to a friend and then abruptly hang up, and almost never said goodbye. When my mother questioned her about this, Grandma would say "l didn't need to say goodbye, we knew the talking was over".
She loved to meet Mrs Peterson downtown and the two of them would usually go to Manning's Cafeteria and perhaps a movie. Sometimes the trip to the movies downtown would end up a bit of a crisis for the family. Grandma Jenny would often go to town alone and sit through a film two or three times until the family would be frantic with worry. One time she sat so long at the 5th Avenue Theatre seeing some film over and over that when she stood up she became dizzy and disoriented. The ushers immediately came to her rescue and she explained "lska Sompa Whoosit"! Of course she needed to go to the ladies room as any fool should understand. However, there was to be no trip to the rest rooms for Grandma, instead they called 911 and the paramedics whisked her away to Harborview while she keep repeating the mantra "lska Sompa Whoosit!.. Finally they figured it out, allowed her the use of the ladies room and called the family who immediately came to take the shaken Mrs Holmes home.
Mrs Petersen in later years was Grandma's dearest friend. However, my impression was that to Mrs. Peterson, life was all a series of medium to large tragic events waiting to pop out at all of us. I remember the sad shaking of her head and with an intake of air, Yah, Yah. One needed no Danish to understand that whatever "it" was bad news indeed. To Grandma Jenny, life was a joy, a quiet, lovely joy, and no bad news would ever convince her otherwise.
But amazingly, she didn't need to convince anyone else of the wonder she found around her. She simply accepted us all as we were, and loved us unconditionally. Who could ever forget her "Dats Nice" or "Hahaalllo"? Some of us still try for that inflection - some of us still cannot pronounce the guttural names of Danish dishes the way she could. It is all in the back of the throat-"Roorgrooey - Rullepulsa - Ebbelskeepers - Iska sompa whoooosit - Illa picka nissa - wonderfulness!
Her culinary abilities were not in a sublime category as were the rest of her many talents. I recall being there for dinner one night after she had moved in with Uncle Art and his kids. She proudly presented a lemon meringue pie! What a treat we thought. Then to our surprise discovered there was no crust, just lemon and meringue. "Well", she explained. "I just read that pie crust is not so good for you".
Her thrifty use-it-all-up-habits got her into trouble once in a while. While she and Aunt Ellen were roommates on Capitol Hill, Aunt Ellen (always a saver) took apart a worn pin cushion and placed the insides in a tiny canister. Unfortunately she put the canister in the kitchen cupboard. Weeks later, Grandma Jenny decided this wheat was just what was needed as fiber in the pancakes. Of course, Ellen, picking splinters out of her mouth asked the question "Mama, where did you get this stuff?"
Another story is while at Art's, she found a bag of wall paper paste and thinking it was flour, made some rather memorable bread out of it.
And my final episode deals with cooking, but not her cooking. When the family first moved to Seattle, after Papa died, Grandma was living with Signa, Art and Ellen on a houseboat on Lake Washington. What fun they all had. On December 24th, Art who was working at the Pike Place Farmers Market, brought home the Christmas Goose. Literally - a gift from his employer. They were all thrilled with this enormous goose. Sort of a re-enactment of the Charles Dickens story. Ted was there for dinner. Ellen, Jenny and Signa prepared the goose and put this big bird in the oven. After a little while, a strange unsettling aroma filled the house boat. It was the distinct odour of a goose too long in the market. It had "gone bad". If you haven't experienced this particular smell, it is rather indescribable. Forgetting about the environment, they flung the goose over the railing and into Lake Washington. Then aired out the houseboat and figured out what else to have for Christmas dinner.
I never heard her discuss her faith, and yet I know it was a vital part of her life. Her Danish Book of Prayers was quite used and worn. Attending Church was important to her. She always remembered Papa's birthday, or their wedding anniversary in a very quiet way. My mother would tell about Grandma saying "Why don't I take you people out to dinner tomorrow night?" When asked "So, what's the big occasion?" she would first sort of blush and shrug, then finally admit "Well, tomorrow would have been our fiftieth anniversary". She never forgot him, she never stopped loving him. One time, when she was in her 80's and I asked her about him, she said "You know I miss him now more than ever". And he had been gone more than 40 years! He had been gone longer than they were married!
Our Danish Lutheran Family has always been a little reticent to talk about faith, about death, and dying. When one of us falls ill, we behave as if this is a bad cold and that recovery is just around the corner. So cheer up! But we seldom say "So, how do you feel about dying?"
When Grandma Jenny was 101 years old and in a Nursing Home, I decided it was the right time to discuss the possibility of the big D .... death. What did she think about it? Did she expect to see Papa there? That brought a smile and her face lit up, "Oh, yes, Papa will be there. And Ted and my mother and father," ("yes, and Lone, Marie and Johnny" I prompted). I waited while she thought about this, then asked her "So, Grandma, what do you think Papa will say to you?" And with that wonderful smile, she answered "Oh, he will say" …….Jenny, what ever took you so long?

Jenny Marie Holm's morning Prayer
l. I want this day to be a cheerful and successful one, so that I may come to my resting bed tonight glad and satisfied. To accomplish this I will plan my day intelligently.
4. As I know that happiness depends on me, my will and attitude of mind, and not on events, I will adjust myself to whatever happens.
5. I will not worry. If a thing can be helped I will help it; if not, I will make the best of it.
6. I will keep all mental poisons out of my thought. I will especially resist and exclude fear, which weakens and unnerves me.
5. I will not allow myself to become angry.
6. I will resist pride.
7. I will try to affect pleasantly every one with whom I am thrown in contact. I will try to make happiness as well as to receive it.
8. I will believe in myself. I will allow nothing to make me doubt myself not to create in me discouragement or despair.
9. I will keep my whole self in tune with positive, healthful and optimistic forces.
10. I will make my enforced intimacies as pleasant as possible; I will get along without friction or bickering, or strained relations, with my family, my neighbours and my business associates.
11. I will plan for at least a half hour's quiet, for reflection and for cultivating my own spirit.
12. I will be more honest, square and prompt than business requires; more kind than charity requires; more loyal than friendship requires; more thoughtful than love requires.
13. I will do somebody a good turn that is not expected of me.
14. If any person does me wrong, I will not bear him a grudge; I will try to forget it.

JOHN'S STORlES ABOUT GRAMMA JENNY, 1941-1954
by John Holmes
I'm not sure of the order of the earliest memories of Gramma but they go something like this:
1. She is tucking me into bed on a winter night out on the screened in old sun-porch, there is a ton of warm blankets on me, a big stocking cap pulled down over my ears, it's warm as toast and I am getting a good-night kiss.
2. She is sitting in the auditorium at Greenwood Grade School watching some of us in my class do some kind of entertainment on the stage.
3. She is making a pie, the extra pie dough is being used to make twisty little things with sugar and cinnamon, she is letting me make some and into the oven they go.
4. She is having sandwiches, coffee and coffee cake with her good friend Mrs. Thorvald Petersen, they are talking in Danish and laughing so much that I decide to laugh with them on the next funny thing; then they really have a good laugh. There is a distinct difference in the way that these two pronounce their words, many of Mrs. Petersen's pronunciations have a more guttural sound than Gramma's; not harsh but very memorable.
5. I had thrown a rock at a kid on the way home from school (the reason has faded from this image), his mother has brought him over to the house because the rock had hit him in the head, and Gramma has the two of us shaking hands. Albert Varnes was one of my friends from then on. He ended up at one point as a (school) principal in Kirkland, Washington where his path crossed Robbie Luckey's path.
6. This one has many sequals. Two or more of us have done something to make her feel that we need some punishment. First she looks around saying, "Now where did I put that switch". She is not able to find the one behind the oil furnace (she always puts it there after one of these events) so she says "I'm going out and get one off the tree". This gives us time to think about the evil of our ways, puts us in an attitude of repentance and when she gets back with the switch, warns us that next time she will use it.
7. This one also has many sequels, about as many as the number of days she lived with us. No matter what is going on, when noon time or thereabout arrives, Gramma heads for her bedroom or the sofa, lays down, puts a newspaper over her head and takes a nap for about ten or fifteen minutes. I am convinced that this was a big contribution to her longevity.
8. She has just shown me how to darn a hole in a sock using a thing shaped like an egg with a handle on it that goes inside the sock while darning and I am darning one of my socks.
9. She has shown me what an overhand stitch looks like and has let me try it on a blanket she is making.
10. She has just shown me some carrots growing in the back yard and that if you pull the green part that sticks up the carrot comes out of the ground ready to eat (after rinsing off the dirt with the garden hose) and we have having a lunch of new raw carrots.
11. She is playing her music on the piano. There is no sheet music to follow because she has put this one together in her head thru her lifetime. It is called "Life's Dream" and it is her story. I can't recall any of the phrases now, but I would recognize it in a microsecond if it were played today. She once applied for a copyright, so it must have been written down at some point. Sometimes she would play her violin in a duet with Virginia or one of her girl friends on the piano.
12. This is another one with many sequels. We are eating dinner and it includes some form of liver. Usually fried until it is tough as leather but sometimes ground up to look like hamburger or hidden in a casserole. But there is no way she can hide the taste and we are all trying to figure a way out of this misery. Virginia hits on a great idea, she puts as much as she can hold in her mouth then leaves for the bathroom where she can unload it. I discover a shelf under the table top and stash mine there, to be retrieved when us kids have to clear the table. By the way, that table was the prototype of an expandable table that Grampa designed and built. He had another one built by someone and displayed it at the Alaska Yukon Exposition in 1909 and it won a prize. The second table somehow disappeared and now every time I go into an antique shop I look for it. The expandable part was built like the roll portion of a roll top desk which was stored under the table top when not expanded and that "shelf' that held the liver was the storage space. The original table is up at Virginia's cabin on Whidbey Island.
13. There is usually a garden in the back yard and even sometimes in the east side yard and she is out there every morning to tend to it. There is always rhubarb planted along the back fence and that patch gets all the used coffee grounds and egg shell's buried in it for fertilizer and all the laundry water (the soap is good for the soil); the local newspaper even had an article talking about her giant rhubarb plants. I once asked her if she would grow some cantaloupe, she tried, but was sure that it was not hot enough in Seattle. The plant grew but did not have any fruit; so we both learned something.
14. There is a snarled piece of string that I am trying to do something with but can't get it untangled. When I ask for help she says "study it and figure it out like your daddy always does when he has a problem". That string came untangled almost by itself after looking at it for awhile.
15. I have just run into the house crying because someone has been teasing me and Gramma starts singing a song. I am totally stumped by this, it is just not what a crying kid needs. Then the words sink in:
I know what I'll do
By and By
I'll eat some worms
And then I'll die
And then, you just wait and see
you'll be dog-gone sorry that you picked on me."

Gramma always looked for the bright side of things, always (well, most always) stayed quiet if she couldn't say something nice about someone and always pointed in the wrong direction when saying, "I'm going up to the Ridgemont Theatre to see a movie". If there was no bright side of a situation to be found she would say "Oh, it'll work out to the good somehow".

SMOKE SOUP / YELLOW CANARY / POUNDS OF SUGAR / APPLE TREE
1938-1946
by Virginia Holmes Thomson
What do these seemingly unrelated items have in common? They're associated with housekeepers, Dad hired when our Mother was in the hospital for an extended stay.
The first item: SMOKE SOUP. Our first housekeeper was Mary Callahan - whom we affectionately called Aunt Mary. She was wonderful, warm, hardworking, and thrifty. One of the times when she made a kettle of potato soup, while the soup was cooking, the potatoes stuck to the bottom of the kettle and began to scorch. Being the frugal woman she was, this soup was not going to be wasted. She called the soup "Smoke Soup" and served it for dinner. We all ate it with gusto. We even asked her to make it again. Don't remember if she ever did though.
Aunt Mary became ill, was rushed by ambulance to the hospital and died a few months later. We were devastated by that loss. After Aunt Mary, we had a couple more housekeepers - but none like Aunt Mary! More on the housekeeper subject below.
The second item: YELLOW CANARY. June was the name of one of our housekeepers. She was quite nice, not necessarily a busy housekeeper though. She spent a lot of time tending to her yellow canary. After a short time with us, she left to get married and moved to a house closer to Green Lake - along with her new husband and her little yellow canary.
The third item: POUNDS OF SUGAR. Another housekeeper - don't remember her name at this time, but I remember what she did. World War II was going on and rationing was in full force - you name it, gasoline, sugar, meat, butter, shoes, some clothes, etc., etc. This housekeeper had a boyfriend who was in the military (don't know where he was serving, however) and she made lots of candy and cookies to send to him. Unfortunately she used all of our allotted sugar coupons. When Grandma Jenny found out she fired that housekeeper on the spot. Dad had to go to the Ration Board and plead his case to get a replacement for our sugar coupons. Fortunately the Ration Board believed him - after all who could make up such a sad story.
The fourth item: APPLE TREE. So, Grandma Jenny decided to come and live with us for awhile. She had us doing all sorts of things. And, if we got into trouble with her, she made us go out to one of the Apple Trees and cut a switch. At first we figured that a small thin branch would not hurt as much - but we were wrong. So, one time one of us got a big thick branch and when we brought it in, she just laughed - and forgot the whole thing. At least for that time. Grandma Jenny stayed with us off and on for a period of time. When we wore her out, she would go to Signa's or Ellen's to recuperate - but soon she would be back. Without Grandma Jenny our lives as children would have been dramatically different - we would not have had the influence of her infinite love and wisdom. We loved Grandma Jenny with all our hearts!!

Religion: Lutheran
Jenny: Kunne være blevet violinist, men passede familien og syede tøj for folk. Flyttede til Seattle i 1927.

Jenny blev gift med Jens Christian Hansen HOLM, søn af Hans Peter Rasmussen HOLM og Ellen Maria Dorthea KROG, den 07.12.1893 i Salinas, Monterey County, California, USA. (Jens Christian Hansen HOLM blev født den 11.04.1869 på "Kokholm", Vonsild Sogn, Nørre Tyrstrup Herred, Vejle Amt, dåb den 05.05.1869 i Vonsild Kirke, Vonsild Sogn, Nørre Tyrstrup Herred, Vejle Amt, døde den 09.04.1921 i Campbell River, Vancouver Island, BC, Canada og blev begravet den 11.04.1921 i Quadra Island Cemetery, Strathcona, BC, Canada.)

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Har fælles tiptipoldemor: Dorothe Johansdatter Schultz (1697-1771).