Katherine Liimatainen Interview

Kathryn Liimatainen Interview Transcript

Transcript at 0 seconds: (00:00)

GAIL JUNTENUN (GJ): Today is March 4, 1987. This is Gail Juntunen, and I am speaking with Kathryn Liimatainen--from Aura?

KATHRYN LIIMATAINEN (KL): From Aura, yes.

GJ: Would you tell a little of your background?

KL: Well, I was born in Atlantic Mine, Michigan, in Houghton County in 1907, and I’ll be eighty years old now this fall. And my folks came from Finland. In 1900, my dad came, and my mother came a year later. And they were married in Finland, and my mother met my father in Finland. They lived in the same Suomussalmi (??) in Finland. But my mother was a maid at my father’s home. They call them “piika” in Finnish. And that…that’s where…

GJ: That’s where they met?

KL: That’s where they met, and that’s where they were married. And then, they came to America. But my mother’s was a poorer family. My father was a better-off--not rich but, you know, they were better-off. They had maids and “rengit” [farmhands], what they called, working then, you know. And so, that’s where they met.

GJ: And your father then came over on his own to find work?

KL: Yes.

GJ: Or did he know of…

KL: He knew of an uncle that was here, but he had worked--see, I guess his father, they had quite a few, you know, cows and big farming--not a big farm, but anyway--that he could--they paid him when he worked at home. So, he had enough money to come here. He didn’t have to ask money from anybody to come to America, but he got a job in the mine in Calumet when he came.

GJ: The copper mine?

KL: Yes, copper mine. Mm-hm. And then he was here a year, and then my mother came. And then, my sister Mayme was born a year later after they were here a year. She died at twenty-seven.

GJ: Mm.

KL: But there’s still living my sister Anna and me, and Linda’s in Detroit. And then, I have my brothers Fred and Carl, maybe you know them. Carl Waisanen, he’s at Suomi College [later Finlandia University].

GJ: Yeah, I’ve heard of him.

KL: And Dr. Carl Waisanen.

GJ: Yes.

KL: And Fred Waisanen, Dr. Fred Waisanen. He’s in Lansing. He’s my brother. Yeah.

GL: So there were five--six in your family?

KL: No. There was—altogether, there was eleven. But my sister Mayme died, and I had twin brothers Henry and Lauri. They died when they were sixty-three and sixty-four. And then brother Waino died, and my brother Matt died. Waino was five years old, and Matt was six weeks old.

Transcript at 2 minutes and 39 seconds: (02:39)

GJ: Mm. Did the family stay in the area?

KL: No. Well, we stayed in the Copper Country till that--you heard of that 1914 strike at the mine in the Copper Country? Well, then when the mine went on strike, or, you know, that big--you heard of that big fire there too at that…? Yeah. Okay, well that time, they moved and left those…left those… Ellen’s folks, and my folks, and Toyrases, the three families came to Aura.

GJ: Now, the one name is T…?

KL: T-O-Y

GJ: R-A-S?

KL: Toyras. And Habilehto [phonetically spelled] was their name. Then they changed it to Lehto just, and that’s Ellen’s folks. And they…

GJ: And how did they… How did they spell their name before?

KL: Hab [phonetically spelled]. But they call it Letho [she pronounces here as Letho, but earlier as Lehto], all the time now since, you know.

GJ: Was that H-A…?

KL: H-E-H-T-O, Lehto, just L-E-T-H-O. [This seems to be a misspelling. Lehto is the more common Finnish surname, and there are many Lehtos in the Aura cemetery but no Lethos.]

GJ: And then your family’s last name?

KL: Waisanen.

GJ: Waisanen? Okay

KL: Yeah, Waisanen. Yeah.

GJ: And your father’s first name.

KL: Louis.

GJ: Louis. And your mother’s name?

KL: Kate. Kathryn. Same as mine.

Transcript at 3 minutes and 57 seconds: (3:57)

GJ: Oh, okay. So the three families moved together?

KL: We came--we moved together from the Copper Country to Aura on a boat and a box car, then from Pequaming, you know, to Aura. [laughs]

GJ: That’s nice.

KL: And we all stayed of us three families in a lumber camp, camp five, until they all built little housing. You know, that--just a, you know, a tarp, paper roof, and boards, and then we bought the stuff from Hebard’s from Pequaming. They brought it with a train, you know, those box cars.

GJ: Mm-hm.

KL: The train used to come. And so, then they built. We moved in to them. And then by fall, they all moved into their own houses. Us three families, we all lived in that camp five lumber camp. [laughs]

GJ: That must have been interesting.

KL: It was.

GJ: And then, all the children…

KL: All the children. And do you know, I told Ellen. I told Ellen--you know, because Ellen was a year--she was born in Aura, but she wasn’t yet... But she had--you know, there was Elsie and Ava and Bruno and Hugo and Walter. They were all born out in the Copper Country. But Ellen was the only one born in Aura, and it’s Ellen that comes here. And so, we were in this lumber--they had a stove outside, and I remember--because it was summertime. It was Ellen’s mother was cooking pancakes, and all of us kids around that stove, you know. Everybody had five, six kids, you know. [laughs] Really, you know, we never thought it was a hardship.

GJ: For kids, it would have been fun.

KL: Yes. I mean, the bears used to come every night behind the doors. You know, we weren’t scared. You know, when I think of it, the Lord protected us, right, you know?

Transcript at 5 minutes and 37 seconds: (5:37)

GJ: Mm-hm. All the adults that they had moved to Aura, what was--what were they going to do?

KL: Well, just farm.

GJ: Oh.

KL: And then, they went to work for Hebard. You know, Hebard was in Pequaming. You’ve heard of Hebard in Pequaming.

GJ: Yes.

KL: Yeah. And there was a saw mill there.

GJ: Mm-hm.

KL: And so when they got their places, they got the jobs there. And then Hebard, a little, gave them a little…a little [unclear word]. The store, there was a Hebard store, and they gave them stuff. So when they got to work, then they paid it from their paycheck, and that’s the way they started.

GJ: Wow. You spent how many years in Aura then?

KL: Well then, I--we were two years in Aura before they started a school at our old camp building there. Then they started a school. And then, I was eight, almost nine. See, school started in the fall. I was eight, and then I was nine in November. So, that’s when I started. But then, I--that fall, I started working at the Hertunens (??) [could be Hiltunen, Heltunen, Hirtunen, etc.] when I was nine. I went to school from there for my room and board, and I got three dollars a month. But they were real good to me. I just stayed the school week. The weekends, I’d come home. But the weekdays, I was a companion for that lady and her daughter because her husband went to the camps and stayed a whole month. So, she didn’t, you know, …

GJ: Oh, I see.

KL: …so didn’t want to be alone with her little daughter.

Transcript at 6 minutes and 59 seconds: (06:59)

GJ: Was this a common thing for the girls to do? To be companions?

KL: Well, nobody else did it in Aura. But, I guess I was that kind that…that—see, I had older sisters, too, at home that didn’t go. But I was always that kind that I wanted to go, you know, and do… And see, I don’t know, my parents were always--and I was my dad’s favorite pet--and they were always good to me. And my mother had so many children--I have to stress this--she never felt that the kids were a burden. She always said they were a gift from God, you know. And when there wasn’t school, she was glad that we were home helping her. And she never--I never heard her say--like nowadays, it just hurts me when I hear, say, mothers that when school starts that the kids will get out of my hair, that they’re glad that school starts, because my mother never said that we were getting in her hair. You know, we got spanked and we got schooled because we didn’t do things, but that’s natural, we need it, you know, and--all kids do. But she never felt that or made us feel that we weren’t wanted and that we were a burden, and that’s so important for children to know that they’re wanted and they’re loved so that they’re not a burden or they weren’t wanted, because then they get an inferior, you know, to think that, what’s this? That I’m not, you know…

GJ: Oh, yes.

KL: See?

GJ: Well, you must have felt that you were doing something very special when you were being the companion.

KL: Yeah, because they--she came and asked, and I wouldn’t have thought--my mother wouldn’t have suggested it, I don’t think. But she came to the house, and I guess she thought--because I was one to talk a lot, [GJ laughs] and maybe she thought that I would be a good companion for her when her husband was gone. And I didn’t know… She didn’t dare (??), you know, I didn’t see any homes there that I went there [this whole phrase is uncertain]. I would…my… You know, I went home on Friday night from school, and then Monday morning, I went to school from homeschool. Then, I went there Monday night and stayed all week, you know.

GJ: Oh.

KL: And I did dishes in the mornings and swept and fed the chickens, I remember, and carried wood. And I was nine years old. And they bought me clothes and good food and three dollars a month, which I thought was such a great thing. You know, we never got money at home. You know, there was enough to feed that big family, and my father got dollar a day. So, my mother said, “Do you want to go?” when she asked, and I said, “Yeah, I want to go.”

Transcript at 9 minutes and 40 seconds: (9:40)

GJ: How long did you work like that?

KL: Well, then I went that fall there, and I went until April. Because you know what happened? Then in that April, you know, a great [inaudible word] comes in the woods? And one Wednesday--it was a Wednesday, I still remember. See, I had been already then--I was nine. Or was I ten already then? When they came in April, the men from the woods. I had never seen the men before ‘cause they were all gone, you know, in the woods.

GJ: Right.

KL: [says something inaudible]

GJ: They went to the logging camps?

KL: Yeah. Yeah. But see, I came home on weekends when they came home. [BREAK IN TAPE] I got through that April. I stayed until June, and school was all at home. And then that summer, I went to Jack Harju’s. There, you heard a little of Harju?

GJ: Yeah, yeah.

KL: To his home.

GJ: Oh.

KL: So, I went to school from there then. I went there--it was that summer--and went that fall with Paul and Irya and Leonard and went to school. And that was…we walked to the Aura school then, and sometimes they had a dog, a big dog, that would take us with a sleigh. And they paid me eight dollars a month.

GJ: Oh, my.

KL: And then, I used to wash dishes and be a companion for her, and they all wanted me to--and then from there, I went to that Alec Harjus that lived over in Caspersville (??) [can’t find a town of this name]. Do you know where they live in Aura? Next to us, a little ways? Yeah, there. They were sisters. Mrs. Jack Harju was sister to Alec Harju, although the men weren’t related. They’re same name, but they were no…

GJ: No relation.

KL: …no relations, so. And I was at that winter at Jack Harju’s, and they paid me eight dollars a month.

Transcript at 11 minutes and 31 seconds: (11:31)

GJ: Well, you must have been able to see then the different--these were all Finnish families, right?

KL: All Finnish families.

GJ: What types of things did they have in common as far as maybe food or…?

KL: Well, they--most Finnish people had the same in the--we had a lot of milk, potatoes, which they raised their self. Always, potatoes was every day. And they all had chickens. They had eggs. And they make pancakes. And they all had almost about the same, kind of, because they all had the same things. They had cows. They had chickens. They mostly had a pig too, you know, so that then in the fall they’d butcher and they’d have pork, so.

GJ: Did they have--were there like special Finnish delicacies or bakeries?

KL: Oh, yes. There was, yes. There was this homemade nissua, you know that.

GJ: Mm-hm.

KL: Yeah. They always made that for the weekend, for Sundays, company came to go with coffee. Because that’s the Finnish peoples, you always have to have something to go with coffee.

GJ: Mm-hm.

KL: So they made that with cardamom, you know.

GJ: It’s very good.

KL: Yes. And then, they made that…that fresh milk, you know, that cheese, Finnish cheese.

GJ: Yes.

KL: And that was a special--like if children were baptized, then and every special occasion they always made the cheese, that homemade cheese.

GJ: What did they call that?

KL: Homemade cheese. That’s all my mother said.

GJ: I know some people--

KL: Squeezy cheese.

GJ: Squeaky cheese.

KL: Yeah, squeaky cheese. Yeah.

GJ: And some people call it juustoa, but I don’t…

KL: Yeah, that’s what--juustoa is cheese.

GJ: Oh, okay. That’s the word for cheese?

KL: Yeah. Well, your husband’s Finnish, isn’t he?

GJ: Well, his father is.

KL: Oh, but his mother wasn’t.

GJ: But his mother is English. They were raised over in England, but then they came back when the kids were grown.

KL: Oh.

GJ: So, I’m learning. I’m picking up a little bit of culture, although I had grown up in Herman so there were many Finnish families there, too.

KL: Oh, yeah.

Transcript at 13 minutes and 46 seconds: (13:46)

GJ: What type--were there special holidays or how would you…? [inaudible phrase]

KL: Yeah. Like Christmas always was a big thing, like at my home too, although we were poor. But Christmas was very special. My mother used to start saving money for--in the fall--for fruit soup, you know, to make out of prunes and raisins and if they had apples. They’d make that fruit soup and then prune tarts. I don’t ever remember a Christmas that we didn’t have that fruit soup or, you know, prune tarts. Because she’d always say that, “Well, you have to save now, you know, because Christmas is coming,” and then of course she’d make this nissua, you know, this biscuit. And…and that same with Jack Harju’s and every—well, they were all Finnish people that I worked with. I mean, I worked almost in every house in Aura. I went to school and when they delivered babies, I went there for two weeks to take care of that, you know, wash clothes and--you know that Mrs.—Mr. Newland [phonetic spelling]?

GJ: Yeah.

KL: His wife’s grandparents, I worked there when that Mrs. Newland’s aunt was born, Helen.

GJ: Oh, my.

KL: Yeah.

GJ: And that was in Aura?

KL: In Aura, yeah.

Transcript at 15 minutes and 5 seconds: (15:05)

GJ: You had mentioned earlier that your--I can’t remember if it was the woman that you stayed with first--spoke Finnish. Did most of the adults speak Finnish all the time?

KL: Oh, all the time. Yeah. Although my dad was such a reader that he could understand English and he could get along, but my mother was more slow in--you know, she understood, but she wouldn’t talk it. She was afraid that she’d say it wrong or you’d laugh at her over something.

GJ: Aw.

KL: Yeah. So.

GJ: But they encouraged the children to learn English?

KL: Oh. Oh, yeah, very much. And they encouraged that you should go to school. Very much. My father and mother both, you know. They were very much that, for education.

GJ: Was Finnish spoken in school?

KL: Oh, no. No. We were… We were punished if we talked Finnish in school. You know what--my brother Ted, he’s still living--you know what he had to do in school when he talked Finnish one day and he—well, he didn’t know any other language. What could he speak? [both laugh] So the teacher--Miss Mattson was her name, and she was a Mrs. Heikkinen [or possibly Hankanen?]. And she died now, not long ago, you know, in Houghton. In fact, you heard of Dr. Jacob Heikkenin [or Hankanen?] in Herman, right?

GJ: I think so.

KL: It was his brother’s wife that was our teacher.

GJ: Oh.

KL: Yeah. So, and her maiden name was Mattson. But she married this doctor, Heikkinen’s brother. And so, when my brother talked Finnish--we had those big round wooden stoves in the school.

GJ: Yeah.

KL: Yeah, so. And he had to go stand on one leg and hold a log, a chunk of wood [laughs] for a punishment for when he talked Finnish.

GJ: How long did he have to do that?

KL: And then he had… And then he had to stay after school, and you know that we went home and told mother. He said--mother said, “Where’s Ted?” You know, “Where’s Ted?” We said he had to stay after school. Mother said, “What for?” We said because he talked Finnish. Oh, you didn’t need any more than that. She took a [inaudible] for school [inaudible; GJ laughs]. Well, it was maybe half a mile from our place. She went there and took him by the arm and told the teacher, “What else will he talk when he don’t know anything else?” And she grabbed him and said, “Don’t you ever keep him after school, or he’s not coming to school.” And so she didn’t say anything. She took a hold of his arm and brought him home.

GJ: Oh, my.

KL: And then another thing is we didn’t know what excuse me and thank you--this has happened to me when I went to school. Well, all in Finnish we would say aho [phonetically spelled; seems to be slang as that is not the word for excuse me or thank you in Finnish], you know, if you stepped on somebody’s toe or something. Well, the teacher tried to tell me when to say excuse me and when to say thank you. Well, we only knew Finnish, all of us. I had never been to school, how could I know English? But my folks just talked Finnish. So, she taught everybody else, you know. Well, folks that knew English was fine, but I didn’t, so I couldn’t catch up so fast, but I tried to learn. You know, I always had good marks in school. And so, I tried to. And then one time, I met her in the doorway, and I stepped on her, you know, foot. And I said, “Thank you.” [GJ laughs] I got them mixed up, you know. I knew I…I didn’t know.

GJ: Well, she must have understood.

KL: No! No, she didn’t. She kept me after school for an hour, I’m telling you. And she hit that ruler so hard on the neck and told me, “Now say excuse me. Now say thank you.” I’ve never forgotten. [GJ laughs]

GJ: You don’t get them mixed up anymore.

KL: No, no more.

Transcript at 18 minutes and 47 seconds: (18:47)

GJ: Now, at home, did your folks read Finnish newspapers?

KL: Yes, they always got the Volvoya [phonetic spelling] and the Suometar and the Finnish papers.

GJ: Where were they from?

KL: Well, one was from Minnesota. The other come from Calumet or Laurium, that Volvoya [I cannot find a newspaper from Calumet or Laurium that sounds anything like what she is saying]. And we went to confirmation school and confirmed in Finnish. I went to confirmation school in Finnish, too.

GJ: Was church in Finnish, or was that it in English?

KL: Oh, yes. In Finnish those days, yeah. Mm-hm.

GJ: And everybody--was everybody Lutheran in that area?

KL: Well, yeah. Most of them were like…like United Lutheran or ELCA [it sounds vaguely like ELCA, the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America, but she may be saying a Finnish word instead]. My mother was apostolic. My father was raised in Finland as Lutheran. You know, like this [inaudible Finnish]. You know, they were called [inaudible Finnish]. You know, to me, my mother and father were--they got along although one was apostolic and one was--they never argued about that. And my mother and father both always told us that. They never impressed that we had to be that or we should do that. But they said, “Just believe in God and Jesus,” you know, and just church doesn’t get you to heaven. In a way, that’s true. You know, if you’re not gonna be good otherwise, what is the church going to do or the church?

GJ: Was your family bible a Finnish bible then?

KL: Yes. Yeah. Yeah. But they believed in--you know, but they weren’t…they weren’t real strict, but they were strict. Like, I worked in L’Anse at a boarding house from thirteen to fifteen. I came around to [inaudible surname starting with O—Ohman?] first and then John Saari’s [phonetic spelling]. I worked for a year for Tiberanka [phonetically spelled] and a year for Jon Saaris in that building.

Transcript at 20 minutes and 41 seconds: (20:41)

GJ: And that was downtown here?

KL: You know where the credit union is?

GJ: Yes.

KL: You know right across the street that building, that was the old L’Anse house. That’s where I worked.

GJ: Oh, yes.

KL: It’s still there.

GJ: Yes. Well, they remodeled it.

KL: Yeah. Yeah.

GJ: And that was a boarding house?

KL: That was a boarding house. Mm-hm. That’s where I worked two years, from thirteen to fifteen. And then I was fifteen, I went in April to Detroit, and then I was sixteen in November. I was like fifteen-and-a-half.

Transcript at 21 minutes and 9 seconds: (21:09)

GJ: Mm-hm. Did you go to school in L’Anse while you were living in the boarding house?

KL: No, no. I quit school, you know, when I was thirteen in the eighth grade. I didn’t wait for the diploma that they offered. You know, money was so important in those days. And so, they offered me twenty dollars a month, and I was getting only eight in Aura, you know, going to school, you know, for my room and board, you know, when I was going to school. And they said that they would give me twenty dollars a month.

GJ: You couldn’t pass it up.

KL: No. But we worked from five o’clock in the morning till eight or nine at night, but--and we never had a day off. And you know, we didn’t think nothing of it. Not a thing. And--but you know, this Mrs. Kim Lehto [phonetically spelled] was such a lovely person. You know, she worked so hard when I think of it, but she was so nice to work for. You know, she never scolded us. There was another lady, Lydia (??) Jestila [phonetic spelling], that worked with me. She came a little bit after I did, and--but you know, people are nice. They’re people to work with. See, they’re not crabby and they don’t scold you, and if we didn’t know something, she was so willing to show us. You know, I remember all these things how people have been so nice and patient with me that I--when I hear people saying that people are so rude, and, you know, it seems--it doesn’t register because they all are so nice to me.

Transcript at 22 minutes and 40 seconds: (22:40)

GJ: Do you feel that people were different then or that we’ve just changed our attitudes?

KL: No, you see, I now--these past few years I haven’t been, you know, in contact with--like when worked with the three (??) [inaudible phrase] Now, it’s just… I just… Well, years ago, well, people were all nice and none of them seemed sarcastic or… They were real nice. And when I hear--you go and they’re so, you know, they want to boss you around. Nobody has ever tried to boss me around. I can’t understand. And I worked five years in Detroit for Stantons. You know, if I told you what experiences, they just… When my husband worked in White Pine three years when they built that White Pine mine, he worked on construction. Do you know, I worked for Friedman’s [phonetic spelling]? He was the head of the White Pine company, you know. His father owned the Edison Company in Chicago, and they were wealthy. They had a chauffeur. His folks came with a Cadillac from Chicago to visit him. But those people, they were so nice to me. That--do you know what I did once? See, they used to entertain a lot. They had to. It’s business. They had to entertain. And there was nine couples, eighteen people. Now see, I had taken at--

GJ: This was at the White Pine?

KL: White Pine. And you know, I had taken--the Mrs. Stanton that I had worked for five years in Detroit, she put me through cooking school, through the Edison cooking school in Detroit. And of course, I knew how to cook fancy meals, and, you know, I knew what. So then, I worked for these Friedmans while my husband was working there three days a week, and she found out that I could cook. So when she entertained, she wanted me to come in as the cook, so of course I did. And this one time, she invited these nine couples, eighteen people, and she wanted--I remember to this day--leg of lamb and we had--and then she wanted me to make cream puffs and chocolate, so--hot chocolate sauce over the cream puffs. So listen, that’s what I did. And then the leg of lamb with brown gravy, you know. And then we had a small white potatoes, creamed, you know. So anyway, but some people want the cream sauce. Some wanted brown gravy on the potatoes. So I made the brown gravy out of--and then the hot--and they were two same kind pots, you know, with the chocolate sauce, hot chocolate sauce, and the brown lamb gravy. So then when I went to bring the desserts, I took the cream puffs. And so, you know what I did accidently? I poured the--

GJ: The brown gravy?

KL: The brown gravy. [ GJ laughs] And Mrs. Friedman came and said, “Katherine.” She said, “Katherine, what did you do?” I said, “What?” She said, “You put the gravy on the cream puffs.” You know, I felt so bad I started crying.

GJ: Aw.

KL: Oh…oh, but I worked so hard getting that dinner, you know, and they liked it. And, you know… But naturally, those parties, they [inaudible] But anyway, then she said, “Well, they all ate it. They thought it was a different kind of dessert.” [laughs]

GJ: They all ate it.

KL: So then, Mr. Friedman comes in and, you know, I was crying. He said, “Why are you crying?” I said, “Well, it’s a terrible thing I did. I put the brown gravy over that instead of the chocolate.” He said, “Mrs. Friedman shouldn’t have told you anything,” and, you know, he gave me a ten-dollar tip.

GJ: Aw, bless him.

KL: Think of it! What are…you know what they were…

GJ: And nobody even noticed?

KL: It was the [inaudible] [both laugh]

GJ: A Finnish delicacy, maybe.

KL: [says something inaudible; laughs] Oh!

GJ: I’ll never forget that.

KL: No, never in my life. Oh.

Transcript at 26 minutes and 43 seconds: (26:43)

GJ: Now, had you parents married just prior to…to—well, wait a minute, not married. I’m trying to figure out when you went to White Pine. Had you and your husband just been married or…?

KL: Oh, no. We--oh, we had been in Aura already, for my husband--

GJ: What is his first name?

KL: Carl.

GJ: Carl.

KL: Carl Liimatainen, yeah. He died--it’ll be twenty-nine years on May the third. Well, he was an operating engineer. He operated those heavy equipment, and he was a master mechanic at White Pine, too.

GJ: So you stayed at White Pine?

KL: We stayed at--we lived in Silver City and in Ontonagon, and we rented a place.

GJ: Is Silver City an old name?

KL: It’s next to Ontonagon. Yeah. It’s that little resort town next to Ontonagon, just a little—yeah. So, all my working places like that, they were so understanding. And even if I made such blunders, you know, they never got mad. You know, it’s just remarkable, don’t you think?

GJ: Well, I think that in part it must be you.

KL: Well, I don’t know.

GJ: I do know that you were sincere about your work.

KL: Well, I didn’t do it purposefully. And I did good work--although I say it myself, you know. I’d been taught that you--that when you do work for somebody, you have to do it, and you don’t expect to work and not get paid for it. You know, if you get paid for it, you have to deserve the pay. That’s the--well, this Mrs. Friedman, I worked for her. And do you know that she, although she was from a wealthy family, you know, she was so nice to me and that she used to go around with those kind of faded overalls and just canvas gloves. And she would--I couldn’t get a ride to come to work, she’d come and get me and she’d bring me home. And then at Christmas, you know what she did? I can’t tell you how people have been good to me. You know, she piled my car from turkey to lettuce to tomatoes to show off. See, I’ve gotten this attitude a lot of places. If you’ve been poor or you’ve felt that you were and then you all of a sudden--then you want to show off. And that’s a bad point, you know, that you have to show off that. Now, if you have a lot of knowledge and a lot of wisdom, you don’t have to show off about it.

Transcript at 29 minutes and 34 seconds: (29:34)

GJ: Do you feel that how you feel is kind of a general, kind of a Finnish…?

KL: No, I haven’t found that in Finnish. Maybe some I have.

GJ: Because I know that an awful lot of the Finnish people didn’t have an awful lot when they came here.

KL: Yeah. But I don’t think any of my brothers--although they’re pretty well off now, you know. They have their Ph.D.s, and they earn good money. They have nice homes and summer homes and everything, but they’re not stuck up. And that’s what I want to impress to kids from next generation is that, you know, education is a miss if it goes in your head. See, you have to get an education to improve the world and people, you know, so you are of some benefit to somebody, not just to yourself. What good are you to yourself alone? Right? You’re nobody alone. You can’t get along by yourself alone. You need your neighbors. You need people. You need a--See, if you just think that you’re somebody, you’re nobody then. Right?

GJ: So you feel that those that felt that the money made them a little bit better were really isolated?

KL: Yeah, but--that’s right. Because money doesn’t…money doesn’t mean a thing if you don’t have anything else. But what is money if you don’t have friends? And if you don’t have inner peace, you know, with yourself and with the world and with your neighbors. What good is the money if you’re not happy? Happiness is the most important thing. And if you think well of yourself and have done the right thing, you will be happy, right? And if you’re happy and you do the right thing to others--and you have to trust people. It’s better to trust people than not to trust them because--it’s better to be poor than to be [inaudible], right?

Transcript at 31 minutes and 37 seconds: (31:37)

GJ: With the community that--the Aura community. You’ve spent quite a number of years here in Aura.

KL: Yes. We came from Detroit when our oldest son was two years old, and now he’s fifty-seven. Of course, we didn’t stay there, you know. My husband worked on construction, but we had our home there. And we travelled, you know, into Wisconsin, and he worked there. But I found out that--although I’ve never had a lot of money, but I haven’t been hungry either, which the Lord has provided. But I wouldn’t want that now. Because I’m afraid that money--I don’t think money would change me because I would give it to a good cause, like to Head Start program where children are underprivileged and they don’t have a chance. And I think everybody should have a chance. That’s my viewpoint in life, that everybody should have a break so that they could better themselves and enjoy life because God made us to be happy.

GJ: Do you think that’s why your mother consented to having you go to these different places and kind of learn from them?

KL: I think so, maybe, because she came from a poor family. Of course, we were always poor. You know, we weren’t hungry, you know, because there was cows and chickens. I mean, but we didn’t have a lot of clothes or a lot of, you know, a lot of money. But we went--all of us were in the same boat. We didn’t know we were poor. [GJ laughs] You know, really.

Transcript at 33 minutes and 13 seconds: (33:13)

GJ: Yeah. As a community--now I guess I’m speaking back to when you were a child up there--were there a lot of community activities that would go on?

KL: Well, they had--like birthdays, people would come to their house, and they’d--we’d play post office, whatever. You’ve heard of all of these. Well, have you?

GJ: Post office I’ve heard of.

KL: Yeah. [GJ laughs] And spin the bottles and all kinds of things that we played at homes they had parties. But then when we were a few years in Aura--of course, I hadn’t been in Aura. See, I--you know, like I went to school. I really left when I was fifteen, and I was two years in L’Anse. But there was a community hall, the Aura Hall, and they had dances there. And Viola Turpeinen used to come and play. You’ve heard of her, haven’t you?

GJ: I know the name.

KL: Viola Turpeinen, she used to play accordion. And so, I remember when I was the last year in L’Anse, I was fifteen, and I came home to visit. And there was Viola Turpeinen playing at the Aura Hall, and I wanted to go so bad. Of course, my mother is apostolic. They don’t believe in dancing or cards.

GJ: Oh.

KL: Oh, this is what I was going to say about the boarding house, because the men played cards there every night, and they played pinochle. And of course, when we’d get through with our work, we’d stand in--just Lydia Jestila and me, and I first was there alone. Well, I’d watch behind there and watch how they played it because it was interesting to me. I had never seen it, and we never had cards at home. So, I learned to play it because I watched them and I was eager to learn. So then I came home to visit, and one of those boarders gave me a deck of cards. I couldn’t wait to tell my brothers, you know, that, boy, I knew a good game. [both laugh] My mother said, “You don’t bring cards in this house. No. No way,” so out they went. [laughs]

GJ: [says something inaudible]

KL: Yeah, well, that’s the way they felt, that it belonged in gambling, you know, that--because they had saloons in those days at that time. Men go there and drink and play cards and stuff like that. Of course, it wasn’t--my father didn’t, but that’s what they took cards for, that that was just an evil thing.

GJ: Yeah.

KL: And you couldn’t blame them, you know, because that’s the way they, you know, had seen it and heard it and--so of course, I didn’t do it because my folks didn’t. But then, there’s the Viola. She didn’t believe in dancing either, but she knew I loved music. I--another thing too, I love music, and I think everybody should take music because I think music gives something, you know, to people. It can reach you where something can’t, like a nice song can tell a person a lot of things that you can’t express. To me, anyway. I think music is very good. And so, I wanted to hear this Viola Turpeinen. See, ever since I was small that I love music. And so, I told my mother, “I’d love to go on Saturday night.” And my father said, “You don’t have to go there,” you know, so. And then nobody came Saturday night. And I thought, “Oh, if somebody could just come and walk with me,” because there was no cars those days. But my mother was so kind and nice and understanding, and she knew how bad I felt that I had come home to visit that I had been working in L’Anse. So she said, “I’ll walk with you, and we’ll listen outside.” So, you know, she walked with me to the Aura Hall, and we stood outside for about a half an hour and listened to that music. Well, you know, I was satisfied. But to this day I’ve never forgotten how wonderful that was of my mother.

GJ: Yes.

KL: And she didn’t believe in dancing and she didn’t care for dance music, but just to please me she would do that.

GJ: That was special.

KL: It was. I still think of it.

Transcript at 37 minutes and 30 seconds: (37:30)

GJ: Mm-hm. Did she teach you the cupping?

KL: Yes. I went with her to Salminens. (??) [says something inaudible] She cupped at our house when we moved to Aura when people used to come.

GJ: Is this something that she would have learned from her mother or…?

KL: She took it in Finland. See, she was out in the [inaudible Finnish word] too, you know. And she took that course in Finland. Uh-huh. And then she showed me.

GJ: Is it something that--do you classify it as folk medicine?

KL: Yes. Well, see, nowadays, they--people take--you know, like this [inaudible name] in Aura, he has too much blood. He goes every month to the doctors. They draw a pint of blood. Well, my mother used to put the--take the blood out of [inaudible]. But there was no doctors, you know. They couldn’t afford the doctors. When everybody felt that they had a headache or they felt that they weren’t feeling good, they were cupped.

GJ: Well, I don’t think that’s that much different from the leeches that were used, you know, many years back, you know, where they would put leeches on people to draw the blood out.

KL: Yes. Yes.

GJ: But this was very unusual. Now, is this a real Scandinavian thing with the horn?

KL: Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.

GJ: Is it something that—now, you said this was a plow horn.

KL: Yes.

GJ: And that’s what they usually used?

KL: Yep, all the time. There’s little ones and big ones, as you can see. You know, if you wanted to just make a little cut someplace, you put a smaller one and then a bigger one. There’s little ones and big ones. You know how horns are sometimes big and small? Well, she--my mother--would make these, trim them herself and everything. She did these.

GJ: Hm. I can see that there’s a little lip on the syringe.

KL: Yeah. You put this… You put this like a sausage thing right here so then when you soak these in hot water, see, you have to get them stuck on the skin. You can see--

GJ: Is that just with suction?

KL: Yeah, I soak them in hot water. That’s, you know, ‘cause my mother showed me exactly how. And then, you take a--that kind of razor knife, and you make little cuts. And then, you put alcohol first to make sure it’s clean. Then, you wash that knife with alcohol, and then you make the cut. And then, you put this and draw the blood, and then you push the blood and then rub some alcohol so that you--after all the blood is drawn, then you close the cut.

GJ: In this photograph, I see the cups are just stuck on.

KL: Yeah, that’s drawing the blood. And then when that cup is full of blood, then I take the blood out and then wash them.

GJ: I see just the suction itself is drawing the blood out.

KL: Yeah. Uh-huh.

GJ: How do you know when that’s full?

KL: Well, you got to check. You can put it back in then if it isn’t. Yeah.

GJ: And people would feel relief?

KL: Yeah. Yeah.

GJ: Is there a Finnish name for cupping?

KL: Yeah, kuppaus.

GJ: Oh, kuppaus. And did you say your mother did it? She did it in Aura?

KL: And in Finland already, and she taught me how. Mm-hm.

GJ: Did a lot of people…?

KL: Yes. Almost--yeah, a lot of them. Yeah.

GJ: Have you ever had cupping done on you?

KL: Oh yeah, my mother did it. Yeah.

GJ: What kinds of ailments would it be used for?

KL: Well, if you got a headache or you felt that you…you’re…you had the—like, your shoulder blades were aching or something [inaudible phrase], then she cupped. And my husband--and my mother did it for my husband, too.

GJ: And it was relieving?

KL: Yeah. At least…at least we thought so. You know, a lot of--

GJ: Sometimes psychologically that would--

KL: Yeah, you know. It’s in my mind too, you know. I mean, that’s what she was taught in Finland, and that’s what it helps to know, so. And I a lot of times think that it’s in our mind, and a lot of times we think that it will help, but it will help if… I can’t put the words, but our mind does wonders.

GJ: I agree. [KL laughs] Do you personally feel that by drawing--withdrawing blood that it physically…?

KL: Oh yes, because [inaudible] is in Aura, and he has to come. Doctor Hiltunen (??) [says something inaudible] takes his blood.

GJ: So, it’s just a more modern way of…

KL: It’s a more modern way. They draw it with a…with a…

GJ: With a hypodermic needle.

KL: Yeah, that’s right. So, there’s no difference.

GJ: And I see the little string around the…

KL: Yeah, but see--

GJ: Is that what held the…?

KL: That held that sausage thing that would, you know. You have to soak that to become softer. It’ll become soft, and then you put it, you know, to get it stuck.

Transcript at 42 minutes and 10 seconds: (42:10)

GJ: When was the last time you did cupping?

KL: Well, that’s the last time I did [says something inaudible]. Yeah.

GJ: And this was?

KL: That was Skanee centennial when they had that big parade there that we were in Skanee doing this pageant that I had to be in the pageant. That’s why that was taken, the picture. It’s Skanee.

GJ: Do you know what year this was?

KL: Elsie Collins will know because she…she… Her husband took these pictures. It must be about sixteen, seventeen years ago.

GJ: Hm. Very interesting. I suppose that it’s one of those things that will kind of die out now. I imagine the young people don’t take an interest. [inaudible crosstalk]

KL: No, no. Like Jane, she wanted to. Jim told me to have something written—well, Jane said--she’s an English teacher.

GJ: Jane is your daughter?

KL: My daughter-in-law. She’s Robbie’s wife.

GJ: Oh, okay.

KL: She teaches in Houghton, English. Well, she said she’d write. She took the pictures. She said she told her pupils about it, and they said, “Oh, no.” [GJ laughs] No. So, she wanted to show how it was done, you know, so.

GJ: Well, it’s something that their children will never see.

KL: No, no. That’s why it’s good to--and then of course, my mother had at that time, too, like if you got a boil or a [inaudible], you know, like you got infection in there. Well, we never--you know, you couldn’t go to the doctors. There was no cars, and they didn’t have the money. So, you know, she made from Fels-Naptha soap, softened it real soft and put sugar in it, and made a poultice out of that, and put it in, you know. And, you know, my brother Fred even got those boils--you know, boils--and she drew it out here just like that. Yeah.

Transcript at 44 minutes and 5 seconds: (44:05)

GJ: What other types--did she have any sort of medicines that you might drink or anything like that?

KL: Oh, yeah. We all drank milk and onions faithfully.

GJ: Milk and onions?

KL: Ugh.

GJ: What was that for?

KL: For a cold. Or anything.

GJ: [laughs]

KL: I tell ya, even after I was married, my father used to come over. If anybody had a cold, he’d say right away in Finnish, “Boil some milk and onions.”

GJ: How would he--how would you say that in Finnish?

KL: Maitoa ja sipulia.

GJ: You dreaded hearing that, right?

KL: Oh, yeah. And then another thing, [inaudible Finnish word], that’s some kind of that’s pine tar. You put it on the stove. Everyone had wood stoves. I have a wood and electric combination now. But you put that and burned that, smelled that. Well, it also brought the [inaudible due to both laughing]

GJ: It was pungent, huh?

KL: Yeah. Well, that’s what, you know--

GJ: It cleared your sinuses.

KL: And you know how we got rid of our tooth aches? My father smoked a pipe, so he took that pipe away with a tooth pick or some kind of--made a stick and put it in the decay in the tooth. It went away.

GJ: The stuff that’s in the bottom of the pipe?

KL: Yeah, the nicotine or whatever’s. That poultice, it was so strong, it killed the tooth ache. More than once he put that. [laughs]

GJ: Now, how would have known that that would work?

KL: Well, he must have learned it in Finland.

GJ: Hm.

KL: Yeah. And my father used to make those baskets weave as shoes, those Finnish shoes. I have some at home, any baskets that he made. And those golpos [phonetically spelled; can’t find any similar word that means backpack] that you carry on your back, you know, pack sack in Finnish.

GJ: He made them?

KL: Yeah, he made them. Oh. Okay, I can bring them sometime. And then, he made shoes. I still--I wore many pair out, but I saved one when he died, you know. And so, I have one pair, those cedar slippers that they wore in Finland.

GJ: Really?

KL: Yeah.

GJ: Would he make those for the whole family?

KL: Well, he would have made if they like them. But see, some of them were so proud. But see, I was always more of a kind of… I don’t know if I was different or what, but whatever my father made, I wanted to wear it so it would please him.

GJ: Did they think maybe that was a little too old-fashioned?

KL: Yeah. And then he made shoopacks [phonetically spelled. Only similar word meaning pointy shoes that I can find is supikkaat], too. You know, those real sharp, you know, peak, you know. You’ve seen those [inaudible], you know?

GJ: Is that with the point on the end?

KL: Yeah. The point on the end. So, my father used to make [inaudible]. He used to make--

GJ: Was that out of leather?

KL: Yeah. Yeah. And he tanned the hides and made them himself. And then--so I remember we walked to Pequaming when the store was in Pequaming, and when we walked to Pequaming, I had these shoopacks [phonetically spelled]. I had these shoopacks [phonetically spelled] and, you know, all the other kids, you know, in town, they think… [tape cuts out]