I never knew my grandmother; she died in 1917. When she came to this country from Sweden in the 1890's, she was a cook at one of the mansions along the Hudson River. I always wished I had been named Kristina, her middle name, and I remember being told that I had the same color hair as hers. My grandfather looks so proper. He was another new Swedish-American. A carpenter, he built countless streets of homes in Philadelphia. My mom said he had made and lost a fortune half a dozen times because he couldn't manage his money. He died at age 93 and helped build a dormer on the nursing home when he was 89.

submitted by Betsi Meissner
Tucson, Arizona, USA
April 2001

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