Memories stirred in my head as I read THIS IS HAPPINESS by the Irish novelist Niall Williams. He wrote of the Irish community of Faha before and after electricity arrived. I am old enough to remember that same event when it occurred at our rural farm home. Gas and kerosene lamps lit our nights. Battery radios furnished our entertainment. As I read I felt like I was walking on familiar ground that I hated to leave when my wife called at suppertime. To add to the story, the village sported only one recently installed telephone, a fact that brought memories of a party line with our ring of three shorts after someone dialed 5542. I can’t argue with the author when he said, “the truth turns into a story when it grows old. We all become stories in the end.”
Williams narrates the story from the viewpoint of a 78-year old man who remembers that older time. Many quotable passages appear, “Faha then had more to it than it does now. The shops were small but there were more of them…” What was true for him certainly is true for me as I recall many small businesses along main street where most local needs were met but no longer exist. The list is long: grocery stores, barbershops, tv and radio sales, clothing, blacksmiths, drugstores, doctors, car sales and repair, hatcheries, and cream stations. Earlier even more served the public such as sales and service for steam engines, threshing machines, livery stables, buggies and wagons, draymen, and more. The little towns themselves have disappeared, and the highway leads to Fargo.
He wrote that in his little community “eccentric was the norm.” People were more free to be themselves with all their quirks and oddities. They didn’t need to kowtow to corporate policies that squelched individual thought. With humor he wrote this line, “the 100-watt bulb was too bright for Faha.” He explained the bright light revealed unseen dust and cobwebs on every surface. For some of the older residents the shock of change brought discomfort and steadfast resistance to the new way.
While THIS IS HAPPINESS could have been about most small towns in our country, it was set in Ireland. By shifting the scene we can find one linked to this particular area. PASSING THROUGH: THREE FAMILIES IN NORTH DAKOTA, 1880-1950, by Fredric C. Bohm III paints a picture of three interrelated families with the surnames of Bohm, Opheim, and Hill.
First, something about the author. Bohm spent the early years of his life growing up south of Sheldon in the Sand Hills. Wanting an education he earned a Ph.D. in history from Washington State University. While there he worked as editor in chief for Washington State University Press, eventually moving eastward to become Director of Michigan State University Press. By exercising his professional acumen he has produced an excellent product. Printed on high quality paper with excellent binding, it has easy to read print with sharp, well-captioned pictures and illustrations.
The old maxim that warns we shouldn’t judge a book by its cover does not apply here. True that PASSING THROUGH sports an attractive, inviting cover, but its pages reveal a wealth of information, too. He liberally footnotes his narrative to tell readers where he found his material. Many of them are worth reading as separate asides since they add to the story. In addition, the lengthy bibliography of work he consulted and published could be of use to someone who wants to zero in on their own reading.
While not familiar with the Hill family, I can relate to the other two. If we remember how storks worked, one of them delivered me at ten pounds, six ounces into my mother’s arms at the Nick Opheim home in Enderlin on a cold February morning in 1942. My mother said Mrs. Opheim welcomed expectant mothers and cared for them until they gained their strength. I think she said Dr. Hendrickson came on the scene to assist in the delivery, as well. I learn later in the book Mrs. Opheim was the mother to Tex Bohm’s wife.
When the author spoke of his parents and his upbringing around Sheldon I naturally took closest notice. His father, a man well known in these parts as Tex, said he received the nickname from his friend Richard Johanneson. At a local rodeo on the Walter Golz farm, he had climbed aboard a bull that did its best to throw him. Tex stayed on his back until the bell sounded but since he ended up contorted and sideways on the bull’s back, he didn’t earn any winning points. After that, Johanneson started calling him Tex which everyone started using.
The Bohnsack Ranch employed Tex as a cowhand in 1940 to help Frieda drive a herd of 600 cattle to the stockyards in West Fargo. That event gained a bit of attention when the Fargo Forum sent a reporter to gather the facts and add some color. The pictures that Bohm published are sharp, much better than what I found in the Fargo Forum archives.
In a section called “Living the Dream - The Sand Hills Years,” we learned Tex and his family rented a small farm and kindly neighbors gave the family a hand up, one hired Tex to shock an oats field and paid his wife with a matching check when she helped, another forgave Tex a sizable loan made for cattle feed. He jogged my memory of Frank Sallen who sold and serviced Gleaner combines in Enderlin where I’d go along to buy parts. Governor Langer brought relief by saving Fred and Gladys Bohm from the foreclosure of their farm.
There is no way a short piece like this can begin to recap two books. The intent has been to look at them, relish the pleasure brought, linger over memories awakened, and say to fellow book lovers that here are two good ones.
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