Six-year-old Elizabeth Chapman smiles shyly and pirouettes, showing off the Swedish dress that her great-grandmother and grandmother made for her. She stands by one of the giant Dala horse sculptures that line the streets of Lindsborg, Kan., and for a minute, I think I’m in Sweden.
In a way I am. Lindsborg, a town of 3,200 just south of Salina, was settled by Swedes in 1868. Today, more than half the population boasts at least some Swedish ancestry.
"This is Elizabeth's third trip here," says her grandmother, Kay Martin, who regularly brings her two adult daughters and three grandchildren to Lindsborg. "All my grandparents came from Sweden, and it's important to me that my children and grandchildren know their roots."
You don’t have to be Swedish to enjoy Lindsborg — my husband and I are not — but for those who are, Lindsborg has become an easy way for grandparents like Kay to let their grandchildren experience the traditions of their homeland.
Dalas and Dance
The billboard outside town promises an abundance of crafts, culture, and cuisine. Swedish music spills out of the shops. Twenty-eight fiberglass Dala horses — inspired by the iconic folk toy and creatively painted and named by regional artists — are strategically placed around town. The Chamber of Commerce provides a map that encourages folks to find them all — from Dalalujah! to the Blue Colla Dala.
Mini-Dalas, usually in the traditional red, hang from lampposts and porch beams, and are sold in nearly every store. Dala plaques can be personalized at Hemslöjd, a store aptly named with the Swedish word for "home-craft."
Best of all for capturing the spirit of Sweden, there's the folk dancing. While the high-school troupe has been recognized nationally, there are folk-dancing groups for children as young as kindergarten and for adults of all ages. During Midsummer's Day Festival, Lucia Fest, and the biennial Svensk Hyllningsfest (which honors Swedish immigrants), the different groups provide entertainment throughout the day.
But there's almost always a folk-dance group meeting somewhere in town. Visitors can drop by the Chamber of Commerce and arrange to watch a practice if no performance is scheduled. In fact, visitors are welcome to join in. The library will lend costumes to adults; the schools have loaners for children.
More than Meatballs
And then there's the food. "I love the Swedish meatballs," says Makaela Malmstrom, age 11, from Grapevine, Tex. She and her cousin, Madison, also 11, are here with their grandparents John and Edna Malmstrom, who live in Texas. Like Chapman, they were motivated to make the trip because, says John Malmstrom, "I'm the last pure-blooded Swede in our family, and I wanted to make sure the girls know where this part of their family came from."
"I like learning what kinds of things they did," says Makaela.
"What they wore…" interjects Madison.
"And what foods they ate," continues Makaela. "Not just the meatballs, but
ost kaka, [a pudding of baked cheese with lingonberries], is good, too. Actually," she pauses, "I can't pick out just one thing I like best!"
Swedish food goes well beyond meatballs and ostkaka. Several stores feature Swedish pastries, from the traditional Swedish tea ring to the twice-baked rusks, called skorpor, perfect for dipping in a cup of strong coffee (or sweet chocolate). During festivals, traditional smorgasbords may feed as many as 1,200 people, but Swedish Crown Restaurant offers a smaller one every Sunday.
In fact, the Swedish immigrants managed to replicate their homeland so successfully, the Swedish government got nervous. When the 1904 Worlds Fair was held in St. Louis, Sweden's contribution was a building modeled after a typical old-world manor house. The goal was to make the Kansas residents homesick enough to return home. Instead, after the fair the Kansans moved the house to Lindsborg, where it now serves as a museum of Scandinavian crafts, costumes, furniture, and assorted artifacts.
Where Buffalo Roam
The Swedish flavor is Lindsborg’s main draw, but some grandparents also want their grandchildren to understand the life their ancestors led once they arrived in the United States. "My grandparents homesteaded in a little town up near the Kansas-Nebraska border," says Jackie Turner, who likes to combine a visit to Lindsborg with a visit to Smoky Hill Bison Farm, about ten minutes away.
More than 30 bison roam the farm, just like they roamed the plains in the mid-nineteenth century. A tram ride gets people up close, while a guide provides background information. Then there's a giant corn maze for older kids and a mini-one for tots.
Amanda Rash, Turner's 9-year-old granddaughter, is amazed at how high the corn grows. Her friend, Holly Olsen, thinks that "the bison are awesome!" After a minute, Rash agrees. "Maybe the bison are best," she says.
Smoky Hill Bison Farm is the brainchild of Linda Hubalek. Her great-great-grandmother traveled by ship and rail from Sweden in 1868 and homesteaded in Kansas in 1869. Hubalek tells the story of her ancestors' journey in Planting Dreams, (Butterfield Books, 1997) a three-book series that's geared to 9 to 12 year-olds.
Lindsborg obviously works for those who want to explore their Swedish and pioneer roots, but it also works for the rest of us. Almost all our ancestors came from "someplace else," and by visiting Lindsborg and the Bison Farm, we can begin to imagine just what those trips entailed.
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