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whiling away his time on a rich iowa farm, there
is a man who might have been an outstanding
political leader in our state or nation. of swedish
immigrant parents and a large family of brothers
and sisters, my father has always impressed upon us
the benefits of a good heredity, and a pride in our
swedish origin. this pride is characteristic of my
father , and, coupled with his stubbornness, it has
made him what he is.
he inherited the farm which he helped his father
build up to the best in the neighborhood. his two
older brothers had their own farms, so "the baby"
paul took over the home place when he married. dad,
being twenty years younger than anna, the oldest
girl in the family, was completely spoiled by the
seven brothers and sisters. he was hot-tempered as
a boy, and when crossed, would be angered to tears.
when he grew older, this anger would release itself
in profanity or violence. but this does not mean my
father was crude and unlearned--anything but that !
he had all the prerequisites of a successful
senator---distinguished in appearance, a wonderful
personality and a way with people. he was well
equipped to become an outstanding lawyer or
statesman, but the narrow-mindedness and
conventionality of his immigrant parents squelched
all his plans.
i can well imagine what happened when they
informed the young, ambitious paul that he must go
to the church college or none at all. he probably
blew up and , thinking he could win them over to
his viewpoint, he stubbornly refused. consequently,
he remained at home with only two years of business
college behind him. he had a great love for
reading, an ability to think, and a thirst for
knowledge which lifted him from the ranks of the
ordinary farmers about him. fat volumes of
rabelais, dumas, emerson, franklin and lincoln; the
harvard classics series, american and french
history books and a set of huge encyclopedias fill
the bookcases at our house along with books on many
subjects and in other forms - philosophy, biography
and autobiography.
one long shelf holds the codes of iowa and
senate and house journals from his congressional
days. for my father became "the distinguished
senator from webster" in 1932. short, stocky paul
became one of the "immortal twelve" in iowa
senate-----six republicans and six democrats who
fought for and against each other for four years.
paul was in his glory then, doing what was his
life's ambition---getting away from the solitude of
the farm, working with people whose company he
craved. what a blow it must have been to lose out
after only one term. i wonder what happened----i
suppose webster county went republican that year.,
i was only a chubby baby who remembers playing
dolls in the aisle of the senate chamber and
playing about the great fountain in the
high-ceilinged fort des moines hotel lobby.
my father's pride would let him be nothing less
than an excellent farmer, although he hated it. he
built two large hay barns for the handsome herds of
cattle he fed, and a fine efficient hog house for
the many pigs he raised each year on the 260-acre
farm. with the farm in the capable hands of hired
men, dad could afford to spend those years in des
moines, thinking that one of his two sons would
soon want to take over the farm. dad had never
liked it himself, so i don't know why he expected
his sons to , but he was disappointed and hurt when
they showed no desire to farm.
so the defeated senator returned to the farm
with the rest of this life blankly staring him in
the face. dad was only forty-five and his children
were just growing up, but his oldest son went off
to college with no intention of returning
permanently. he and his father couldn't get along,
for they had the same stubborn wills, which all of
us have, and it became increasingly difficult for
all of us to live with him. for a great change had
come over him; he had lost his ambition, his great
hopes, and he began to console himself by drinking.
this habit had started when he was in the senate,
and was based upon an attitude with which he had
grown up---that a man can take any amount of
liquor. at first, he could, but as he grew older,
it gradually got the best of him so that in nearly
all of my remembering he has been an extreme
alcoholic.
it is the usual case history of an
alcoholic----progression from a few drinks on
downward to d.t's. i'm not sure if he quite reached
that point, but he reached his worst just a few
years ago. we had of course been trying to help him
by sending him to sanitariums, but you can't help
anyone who doesn't want to be helped. he was nearly
always i a drunken stupor, which was ruining his
health, wearing mom down, and letting the farm go
to waste and ruin. finally a breaking point was
reached and dad was taken to cherokee by the
sheriff, a family friend. two months he spent
there, which only made him feel more bitter, more
persecuted and insecure. just as all the previous
"cures", it lasted only a few months, and then we
were off again. thanks to my mother's patient and
understanding handling, nothing drastic ever
happened, although many times it could have.
finally we discovered a place especially for
people like dad sand to it we owe the past few
years of happiness. dad spent several months there
and i think is now well on his way to a normal old
age. a main part of their treatment is to build up
the patient's health, which is usually very poor,
so they realize how much better they feel when they
are not drinking. they are given some medicine
which satisfies their craving for alcohol, without,
of course, the awful effects, and they are
surrounded by plenty of recreation to keep them
occupied. i believe they also hear lectures about
their condition, although "lecture" is too strong a
word here; it is more of a chat between the patient
and the doctor. "river oaks" had a wonderful
influence on my father, for since he enjoyed it, he
let it affect him, and typically paul, took the
credit for having gone there on his own. we had
made it appear that way, although my older sister
at home found out about the place, and talked dad
into going.
how much of it was river oaks' influence, or if
dad just outgrew another phase of his life, i don't
know, but perhaps " the distinguished senator from
webster" is on his way to becoming the alert ,
healthy person he used to be. it is hard for me to
realize that he has changed; he still likes to sit
in the local tavern and chat with the "boys" and to
stop at a private club in fort dodge. my
experiences with him all my life have been to wait
and wait, threaten and coax to get him to go home.
it used to be necessary, but it isn't any more, for
he is always willing if i am prompt and
good-natured about it. he can sit and tell stories
by the hour, and some very interesting ones, about
nearly everyone i the community, their fathers and
grandfathers; his days in the iowa senate, things
he has done in the political filed and his
political friends; books he has read, poetry he had
memorized in his youth; and the endless tales of
the old sloughs, the wild game abundant in his
youth, the country school and his family.
but actually this is the basis for my father's
problem : he has been so wrapped up in himself and
his past, he has not moved ahead. either they were
much happier days, or else he just hasn't had the
incentive to go on. he is interested in people of
his own intellectual caliber, so perhaps with mom's
help he will find something to occupy his mind that
will keep him out of the passive state into which
many old people fall. he has an alert, experienced
political mind, and perhaps, to his children's
great joy, if he behaves himself, he will again be
able to put that mind to good use.
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