GENE A. ANDERSON SR.
Gene A. Anderson, age 64 of Dunseith, died Friday, January 24, 2014 at his home. Funeral services will be held on Thursday, January 30, 2014 at 11:00 A.M. in the Earth/Eagleheart Cultural Center in Dunseith. Visitation will be Wednesday beginning at 4:00 P.M. in the Cultural Center. Cremation will take place after the services.
Gene (Ole. Grey Pony) was born on April 20, 1949 to Arol (Bud) Anderson and Norma (Handeland) Anderson in Rolette, ND. He was one of four children reared by them. He attended school in Wetherelt School until he was in the 5th grade and then enrolled in the Dunseith Public School and graduated from there in 1967. He worked on the family farm for a few years and for Morgan Lumber Company of Dunseith.
He married his wife of 44 years, Beverly (LaVallie) Anderson on April 12, 1969. Together they raised two children, Pamela and a son, Gene, Jr. Gene lived in the Dunseith area all his life and worked as a heavy equipment operator, where he was known as the best in the state, until he retired in 2002 for health reasons. He was a member of the Local 49 Operators Union. Later, he went to work for Rolette County for a couple of years and then went strictly to farming, buying the Carrol l Carlson farm. He lived on the farm until his passing on January 24, 2014.
He enjoyed farming, his farm animals, especially Charley, the donkey and his two dogs, Nick and Ace. He enjoyed spending time with his daughter and all of his 8 grandchildren. He enjoyed watching the grandchildren compete in wrestling, football, volleyball and basketball. One of his favorite pastimes was playing the four nickel machines at the Mini Casino in Belcourt. He enjoyed the sport of hunting deer with his grandsons, son-in-law Max, and friends.
Gene is survived by his loving wife, Beverly, a daughter, Pamela Defender (Max), eight grandchildren: Amanda, Seth, Devin, Cheyenne, Emylee, Abby, Max (Moose), and Magee. Also surviving are his sister, Glenda Bergan (David) of Dunseith, a brother, Lorenzo Anderson of Bottineau, and many nieces and nephews.
He was preceded in death by his son, Gene, Jr., one brother, Gerald, and both of his parents.
Gary and friends,
I really was taken by the photos Marshall Awalt shared a few years ago.
One summer afternoon, after my Dad and Johnny Awalt passed away my mom and I visited Gertrude Awalt for coffee in Rolla. We drank it black, not strong and had a little 4:00 afternoon lunch.
Gertrude showed us her photo album, she let my mom borrow and copy, a photo, I call it “4 Little Rascals”;Jim, Lucky,Archie Metcalfe and Charlie Anderson. Mom, then, made copies for many of the Metcalfe family.
Fondly, I’m reminded now and again, whenever I see that photo, of those “4 Little Rascals” . They each grew up to be amazing men. Charlie Anderson a friend to everyone he met. Charlie, was a warm, kind, gentle soul,we’d see in Dunseith on Saturday nights. The other three, Uncle’s, Lucky, Jim, and Archie embodied North Dakota work ethic. They were strong sturdy men who worked hard. They’d tell you what was wrong. And, stood for what was right. They each kept life long friendships, many beginning at Rabbit City Lake community. They loved honesty, laughter,visiting, and music. And, they each married neighbor girls of the hills. Girls of Norwegian descent who made strong black coffee, and wonderful lefse, julikakka, buns, date filled cookies, beet pickles, and full country meals.
When i became an adult, I’ve had the pleasure of taking many trips, with several young adolescents. I wanted them to experience visiting the West coast city of Seattle, where my father journeyed to by train with his friend Bill Peterson in the early 40’s. A place, my parents as a young married couple, first lived in 1947 across the street from Woodlawn Park Zoo. Dad apprenticed and earned his journeyman degree in plastering with his brother Emil after serving in WWII.
The first trip with me and the kid, my wee brother . ( Later, I took 8 nieces and nephew’s various times) I believe a child needs to know their heritage, the people, place, culture they came from.
To claim their own personal power, a child needs to know their Identity and be connected. That idea has become part of my my personal belief system.
My brother S. went first. After driving for three and 1/2 days to N. Seattle, now called Shoreline to Aunt Jean’s he was homesick. Jean and Uncle Waino Maki, opened their home which we used as our base camp. While there, 2 weeks, I slept on the living room floor with my hand over my homesick brothers shoulder. Aunt Jean kept Shan occupied by playing War with cards every waking moment. She fed that kid until he went home two weeks later 15 pounds heavier. Jean whipped up every goody i.e. “Tea tea” she could bake. She liked hearing that her big brother Cliff told S. that Jean made the best ( treats), “Tea,teas”…..
While in the Seattle area we journeyed on Washington ferries crossing Puget Sound. We drove all the way to the coast leaving footprints in the sand, splashing in the cold waters of the Pacific eating a picnic lunch on the low tide. We day tripped to the locks, Pike Place Market and to Woodland Park Zoo, Granite Falls, Deception Pass, and drove to Marysville. We spoke quietly,sitting by the graves of Uncle Archie and Grandma Rose as we gazed east beyond the Cascades.
One evening, Uncle Lucky and Aunt Jennie (Nelson) Metcalfe called every Metcalfe in the greater Seattle area for an open house family gathering. Turkey, potatoes. julakaka and coffee or kool-aide.
Amidst the visiting, eating and card playing, the coffee pot was emptied. I went to the kitchen found Uncle Lucky sitting in thought, alone by the coffee pot. “ Shall I make some more coffee?” His graveling bass voice responded, “ Well you can make some coffee. But DON’T make it like your mother!”
uh… “huh?”, I said. He looked at me kindly and gruffly said, “Every time, we go to your parents house, Jennie and I drive home, talking about your mother. We say, “Lottie’s nice and puts on a good lunch, but she sure doesn’t know how to make a good pot of coffee! You can see the bottom of the cup, it tastes like hot water with some kind of brown colouring!”
Then just as adamantly, “Make it black Vickie. BLACK,” He said, “Make it thick black. So black and thick a person can stand a knife in it.” He went on talking about a Minda ? Nelson who made the best coffee.” “So black and thick a knife couLd be stood in it.”
He smiled in memory, “She made it on a wood cookstove and she never washed the coffee pot, just kept adding more ground coffee”. “Washing the pot ruins the coffee, you know.”
“Really? uh, Huh,” I chuckled, and remembered …….. all the times….. sitting in the back seat of a station wagon, sleepy and a drowsy, happy from a pleasant time at Uncle Lucky’s in Seattle or Uncle Jim’s N of our farm.
Dad driving, with his arm out the window, summer, fall, winter, spring_Fresh air hitting the face….Home__on our way _Home from going visiting…hearing mom and dad, voices in quiet tones about the evening,, “ It was a nice visit,but we will never sleep through the night. “(whichever place they’d been) “Ella/Jennie really puts out a nice lunch, but that coffee was too strong…….”
I would slumber contented,wake for a bit when the fresh air hit. Until we got home, keeping the thought, I really like my aunts, uncles and cousins. At the time, I knew, this was the way it always was and always will be forever and ever. Amen.
My Uncles with their wives of Norwegian descent making UFFDA strong coffee and my Dad with my mother of English-Irish descent who really liked drinking weak coffee. Those folks, if they complained about each other at all ____it was only on the strength of the coffee.
It was the best of families. I loved the whole lot. And felt, I was loved by the whole lot of them. If any thing ever happened to my parents, I knew I d be safe with Aunts and Uncles who take care of me.
Now the all these years have gone___ bye. I hold those sweet memories close and say softly, “as for me, if I drink, I like my coffee with lots of cream and sugar……”
Thanks to the Awalt family for the photo memory.
From Cecile Gouin Craig (61) – Memories & History:
I totallly fried my hard drive about a month ago got it fixed but doesn’t
recognize the scanner. Have to call them. It’s been a zoo here. Jan. 29 my
dad Lawrence Gouin fell off a ladder (age 92) broke his hip was in hospital,
then rehab. We brought him home on Mon. seems to be doing great. He’s a
tough one. He and Mom Jean (age 86) live in their home. Still drive, both
play cards several times a week. They had their 67 wedding anniversary in
Dec.As for the Home-Ec teacher what popped in my head was Mrs. Allen.
The Morgans story: Mr. and Mrs. Morgan lived next door to us on the NorthSS.
Directly across the street from us on the East corner was an old old house,
shack as Mom called it. The house was owned by the reservation, they
wouldn’t tear it down. On the North side of it was another house, I want to
say they were the Nagels? Anyway one summer afternoon the house was on fire,
Mom saw that plunked on the fromt porch to watch. The phone was ringing of
the hook, she didn’t answer it. Just enjoyed the sight. About that time out
comes Mr. Morgan running with a bucket. Mom yelled at him “don’t you dare
throw water on that!” “Jean be quiet!” He had gotten the gas for the boat
they had in the garage to throw on it. Then grabbed the Nagel’s hose to
water down their house. Until the fire chief arrived. Jr. Melmer. Mom never
asked if Maurice or I knew who started the fire. Years later we found out.
Anyone out there ready to fess up???
Johnny Morgan would get freaked out at scary movies. The eyes got to him,
Vincent Price in “The Fly” was a big one. After the movies Johnny catch me
as we left the theater and ask if I’d walk him home. I’d have to walk him to
his door, then walk myself home. That was our secret.
Mrs. Conroy: She was my 1st teacher (4th grade upstairs) at Dunseith I had
just moved from Ontario, Can. She was a great teacher. My Mom still uses the
onion board with the onion face on it, also the bread board. School started
in Sept. 1952 at the git go I was asked if I liked “Ike” didn’t have a clue
who that was (ask me about the Queen) so I got beat up a couple of times,
decided I did like “Ike”.
Dean Stickland’s (73) Reply to a message Gary Stokes (65) sent him:
Can you please add another email address to the ’73 spreadsheet for me? I’m not sure how long we’ll have the “netzero” address, but I hope to have firstname.lastname@example.org for a long time.
I keep pretty quiet in the background but read your emails every morning – thanks for your kind dedication and effort.
There’s a bunch of ND folks who would enjoy a local musical event this weekend. I’ll be spending the next four days at a bluegrass festival called Wintergrass, in Tacoma, WA. Its one of the major musical events in the northwest with about 15,000 attendees. I have a vendor’s booth there where I sell custom-made violin bows, restored older bows and a few violins. My brother Darrel (Doc) will be arriving from Mpls. tomorrow to join me there for the event. Ronnie Kelly from MT is also planning to come out this weekend. Darrel, Ronnie and Ronnie’s brother Randy used to have a band in Mpls. back in the late 70’s. Check out the websitehttp://www.wintergrass.com.
Dean Stickland (73)
Dick Johnson’s (68) reply to Marshall Awalt (51) & Memories:
Gary and friendsThanks to Marshall for the old pictures. The picture of your
dad, John Awalt, and Louise Johnson [my grandpa’s sister] was
taken in my front yard when the Awalts lived here. I tore down
the last of the old house and built another log home on the
same spot. Your dad told me that the big elm trees here were
just planted when the old house was being built, around 1902.I
think the picture was taken in the early 1920s as Louise was
married and gone buy 1925.
When Bonnie mentioned being pulled on a car hood, I remember
being on a tobaggan behind my old 1947 Plymouth out at the
airport one Sunday afternoon back in 1965. I gave a bunch of
kids rides and then got talked into trying it myself. The
driver was Rich Campbell and John Boguslawski was in the
backseat as a “spotter”. Each time I waved for them to slow
down, John said “he wants to go faster”. I finally flew off the
sled and slid and flipped half way down the airport! When I
stopped my glasses were gone and I tore one sleave off my
jacket! As I recall that was the last time I ever got on a
There was another Sunday afternoon maybe a year or so earlier
when we were down in the pasture just behind the park and we
were sliding down the hill on a TOBAGGAN. Each trip down we
went a little farther as the track packed harder. On the final
run we thought we could make it all the way to the edge of the
creek. With four of us on the thing we took off and we not only
made it to the creek but into the dry creek bed and directly
into a big rock! Leland Stickland was sitting in the front with
his legs crossed and when we flew forward we heard a loud POP!!
It was the sound of Lee’s leg breaking!! WE pulled him home on
the sled and they took him to the hospital, as I recall. Am I
correct with the details Leland?? Thanks again Gary..
Lee (Leland) Stickland’s (64) reply to Dick Johnson:
Note: I had time to send this to Lee for his reply before sending this out today. Gary
Thanks for the advance copy. I do not recall having ever suffered a broken a leg; although did have adventurous rides on car hoods or toboggans behind a car. I did fracture the third (3rd) lumbar vertrabae of my back on Dec, 30, 1960 while riding on a toboggan. As I recall, Russel Fauske and some others and I were sliding down the slope North of Johnny Hiatts; across the road for the city dump. Hit a rock and landed in a bad fashion. A short time thereafter Russel’s face was badly lacerated when he tangled with a barb wire fence.
I got up and walked home. When I arrived at home, I was not able to take off my own boots. To Rolla hospital, Dr Eylands was there. Traction in bed for some time. I played 5 years of football following that episode, some discomfort(s) ensued. (In later years, former sources of pain do return with a vengeance, seemingly.) Coach Bob Jury would “encourage” me to do better and better, esp, with the 100 yard dash, takeoff, posture while running and last spurt efforts. Have many wonderful memories of Jim Evans and I playing tackle position and doing our best to make a “hole” for Dave Shelver or John Leoanrd to get through.
As it may be, also on a Dec 30, in 1965, was the day that Earl Hiatt and I were struck by another vehicle 16 miles South of Dunseith. Sadly, Earl did not survive.
I received 7 jaw fractures:: 3 of right mandible, 2 of left mandible, broken from hinge joint(s) and pushed back and up against the brain stem. Two basal skull fractures also occured;as I understand. that is the bumps on the back of the head just above the neck. Went from 217 #s to 154 #s in 30 days.
Had many car accidents, I was driving a few times, Had two small planes quit on/for me and survived that. As I ‘figger’, I have one live left.
Gary, FYI and obvious need of editting. I read with great expectation, each of the daily “memories” of Dunseith. No, they c/would not be traded. Thankz for ALL the effort you perform to keep US in touch. LEE
Bev Morinville’s (72) request to Colette Hosmer (64):
Colette I would love to see some of your art. Can u share some pic ‘s with us Bev azure
Marge Landsverk’s (57) Reply to Gary Metcalfe (57):
Hi Gary and all,
Yes Mrs. Ward sounds like the economics teacher’s name. You have a good memory!
I remember the car hoods before snowmobiles only I remember them in the ditches pulled by cars. If my mother only knew!
Marge Landsverk 57
Dear Gary, 02-20-08
I think it is typical of rural N.D. and has a good message.
Marshall Awalt’s (51) reply to Gary Metcalfe (57) With Pictures:
Yes Gary was right, the Anderson family were neighbors with the Metcalfs. My mother Gertrude Anderson went to school with the metcalf, Potria, Belgarde and Bailey’s. Here is some of the old photos. Hopefully everyone is indentified right.
JIM METCALFE, LUCKY METCALFE,ARCHIE METCALFE AND CHARLES ANDERSON
GERTRUDE ANDERSON, MARY METCALFE, BILL METCALFE, NEALY ANDERSON