Sometime in the early ‘20s, my Dad, Herb Swanson, moved from Ishpeming, MI to Minneapolis with his mother, two brothers and a younger sister. The family settled on 40th and Lyndale N. To help care for the family, Dad went to school for his funeral director's license and opened the Swanson Funeral Home on 42nd, just off Lyndale Ave. His father had owned a funeral home and furniture business in Ishpeming prior to his premature death around World War I, so Dad was following in familiar footsteps. He met my mother at an ice cream social at Salem Lutheran Church. She was the daughter of John Baumann who owned the Camden Bakery. They were married in 1924. I was to be their only child, born in 1926.
My dad's first place of business was just off Lyndale, between the back side of the Camden Bank and next door to the Camden Branch of the U.S. Post Office, by the alley. Nelson's Shoemaker Shop was across the street. "Camden" at that time was the business area between Jaeche's oil station on 40th and Washington to Haertel's feed store on 43rd and Lyndale. There were two drugstores, Hayes' and Art Johnson's; two grocery stores, Blomquist's and Irmen's; two meat markets, Blankenhorn's and Paul Johnson's; the bakery (my grandfather's), Dahl and Fredin's dry goods store, the Camden Movie Theatre, a cozy corner restaurant, and the bank and post office. All were good friends of my parents.
What was it like to grow up as a funeral director's daughter? I loved having my dad's place of business so close to our house. Often I would ride my tricycle or skip down the alley just to visit him. I had the run of the place, unless there was a "body" in the chapel. I never saw a deceased person until I was at least 14. My father was home more than most dads were. Our family car was a long Packard with "jump seats" for transporting families during a funeral. In the winter Dad would often pile the neighborhood kids into the car and drive us all to McKinley grade school on 36th and Bryant. The kids across the street went to Hamilton, so they missed having rides. I loved going with my father to Stern's Greenhouse on 38th. Julius Stern would let me walk between the rows of potted plants and pick up any blooms that had dropped to the ground. Sometimes he would give me a real flower to take home and cherish.
In the later years of the Depression, in 1936, my dad was able to buy land on the corner of Lowry and Irving N. He envisioned his new funeral home to "be high on a hill" and began to seek money to build. It was not easy to obtain mortgage money. He went to many banks and finally was able to get a loan from 1st National Bank on Plymouth. For the rest of his life I often heard my father speak of that banker, his Jewish friend, with gratitude and admiration because he had been willing to take a chance on a middle-aged businessman, and to give him the opportunity to serve the larger Northside Minneapolis community.
I was about to enter Jr. High when the new mortuary was finished. Most of my McKinley friends were going to Jordan, so my dad arranged for me to go there too, with the excuse that he could give me a ride to and from school. I actually rode my bike in good weather, spring and fall, but that 37th and Aldrich hill was a real challenge. When I needed a ride home I would walk from Jordan to the mortuary, often with friends who loved to visit my dad's place of business. Again, if there were no bodies in residence, we had the run of the place. We were very creative in finding things to do - hide and seek through all the rooms, play chop sticks on the pipe organ, visit the casket display room to pick our favorites (occasionally someone would "try one on" for size), and we loved to roll one another around on the casket roller stand. Dad also allowed young aspiring organists to come in off hours to practice on his new pipe organ, his pride and joy.
I was proud of my father for the respect he held in the community, for the service he provided to families in their bereavement, and for the integrity of his business practices. Dad sent only one bill following the funeral service. He would wait patiently for months, or even years, until that bill was paid off. The cost of a funeral in those days was the cost of the casket. A $200 casket meant a $200 funeral. Occasionally someone would buy a $600 copper casket. That would be a "good" day! My father gave everyone the same respectful and kind service. Once a traveling "gypsy" family came wanting to bury a loved one. They had been turned down by several funeral homes because no one knew who they were. My father was happy to provide the service they needed. It turned out that the clan was wealthy, and after that when one of the family died anywhere in the United States, they came to my dad to provide the funeral.
My father never did retire. He continued to go to "the office" even though his health was failing in his early 70s. My uncle, Cliff Pedersen, capably ran the funeral home in his absence. Dad died at age 73 of a massive coronary. I always remember how he dealt with people at the time of their bereavement with genuine respect and compassion. I could always tell when he was in the process of burying a child. He was quiet and obviously touched by the loss the family was suffering. Today there are still folks who would not think of going anywhere but to "Swanson's" for their end of life needs. This is a great tribute to my father and to the love and care he gave to so many people during his lifetime.
About our guest writer--Janet Swanson Enquist was born and raised at 4138 Aldrich Ave. N. and lived there until she was married. She graduated from Patrick Henry High School in 1944 and received her B.A. from Carleton College in 1948 and her Master of Social Work from the University of Minnesota in 1950. She became acquainted with Mel Enquist, her future husband, at the university and lived only a block and 1/2 from him when they started dating.
Mel graduated from the U of M in the field of Chemical Engineering in 1950. They had known of each other in high school but Mel graduated one year before her, and of this Jan said, "So much for first impressions!"
A year after they graduated from the U. they were married. That was December 1951. Mel had taken a job in Wilmington, Delaware, so they moved there. As much as they enjoyed the east, they moved back to Minnesota to raise a family. Their first home was on 45th and James N. Eventually they raised five children and acquired a small farm in west Hennepin County near Maple Plain. In 1998 they sold the farm and moved to a lake place in Bemidji. They had 55 years of marriage, the last 23 being years of happy retirement before her husband passed away in 2007. Barbara Meyer Bistodeau.
