Challenge Day #8

Elsa

Two powerful women shaped my view of all a woman can be.  I grew up in an era when women became a secretary, a nurse or a teacher.  These were two women brave enough to work outside of the home.  One was Elsa and the other was my Aunt Evelyn.

I’m not sure when I met Elsa (Elsa “Elsie” M. Dahlgren) when I was two years old.  I don’t remember the meeting, but I do remember the many nights I slept on the rough hairy couch in her living/great room while my parents and other cabin owners danced to the jukebox in the lodge connected to the living quarters.

Elsa, along with her husband, Ralph, built a fishing resort on South Twin in northern Wisconsin.  Ralph passed before I was born, which played a big role in my impression of Elsa.  There was the beach cabin, the garden cabin, the big cabin, the three bedroom, the cabin on the hill and the doghouse.  The doghouse was for single men who didn’t need a kitchen and only wanted a bed. 

The resort had the option of having the American-Plan which included three meals a day.  When I was young and we would head up-north, we would call ahead and let Elsa know we would be there for dinner.  Every Friday night was a fish fry – not a modern day one of farm raised catfish or cod from the Atlantic, but one with fresh fish out of the lake, caught and filleted by Elsa and other guests accompanied by fresh baked bread, homemade pies, coleslaw and vegetables from the garden.  There were several long tables set up in the living quarters where we’d eat with the guests and other cabin owners. It was like being part of a big family.   

Elsa was always dressed in slacks with either a short sleeved cotton shirt or when it was cooler a plaid wool shirt.  She was the only woman I knew who ran her own business. She worked from sunup to sundown and then some. During the summer, most of the guests came to fish and in the fall the deer hunters would arrive.  As Elsa hunted, the menu changed from the lighter fare of the summer to venison stews and heartier meals.  With me she shared the joy of baking, of serving others and her love of the Northwoods—its animals, its trees and its beauty.

What impressed me the most was that her life and work was on the edge of the wilderness.  The closest town of 300 people was 7 miles away. She was tough and opinionated, but always willing to share.  From her I learned women can be independent and can do anything they want, that being a woman didn’t mean you had to wear make-up and a dress.  I learned that respect came from doing a job and doing it well. She lived women’s rights.