Johannes Andersson became Johannes A. (or John A.) Melquist, once his family had settled in America. The first child of Anders Persson and Karin Nilsdotter, Johannes was born at Långvak farm in Arvika parish, on May 21, 1824, just four months after his parents' marriage. According to church records, he was vaccinated against smallpox in 1825, a sign that medical practices had begun to evolve. Ironically, this important medical breakthrough contributed to population pressures in Sweden that led, at least in part, to Johannes' decision to emigrate.

Johannes' mother died when he was three years old, just five months after the birth of his baby brother, Anders. Her passing forever marked his life. His widowed father attempted to eke out an existence in Arvika…but to no avail. As baby Anders was passed along among relatives and neighbors, the elder Anders and Johannes lived nearby at Långvak and Gata farms. Yet eventually, after Johannes turned fourteen in 1838, Anders left his son for a new life – and a new wife – in Köla parish, some kilometers west of Arvika.

Johannes didn't remain long at Arvika. In 1839, he moved a few miles northwest to Gunnarskog parish, not far from the Norwegian border. The Gunnarskog inflyttade (immigration) record announced the arrival of gossen (lad) Johannes Andersson from Arvika. The fifteen-year-old was on his way to work on the farm at Ingerbyn rote.

Dräng Johannes labored at Ingerbyn until well into his twenties. It seems that he had physical problems, since records from 1841 through 1855 have this recurring medical notation: Bräcklig i högra låret – meaning that Johannes had a fragile right thigh. Had he hurt himself on the farm? Did he walk with a limp? Indeed, his photograph on Findagrave (courtesy of Rolf and Marlene Ottersen) is interesting.

Johannes worked at Ingerbyn until 1847, when he moved to Bosebyn rote at Gunnarskog. In 1848, piga Maria Persdotter arrived at the same farm. Having been born in Gunnarskog, on August 19, 1821, she was a couple years older than Johannes. Maria had served as a maid on another farm in the parish before moving to Bosebyn. Several years passed, and they became romantically involved. Then, one day, the unmarried couple found Maria pregnant.

The parish lysning, or banns of marriage, for Johannes and Maria were first announced on a Sunday, March 13, 1853. They were married by G.E. Grund on Saturday, April 23, 1853. Their son, Anders, arrived one month later, on May 31, 1853. Life, although never easy, was about to become even more challenging for Johannes. Anders' delivery was difficult for Maria, and she died one week afterward, on June 7, 1853. The parish death record listed the cause as barnsbörd, meaning childbirth. Maria Persdotter was buried at Gunnarskog on the 12th of June, just nine days after her baby's christening.

Johannes must have been grief-stricken. His own mother had died a few years after his birth…and now his young bride had died giving birth to his son. He and his father had parted ways when he was only in his teens – Johannes wouldn't repeat this pattern. The utflyttning (emigration) record shows that enkling (widower) Johannes Andersson, with his son, Anders, safely in tow, left Bosebyn farm and Sweden behind during the summer of 1854. Their destination – Norrige!

Once the decision to leave Sweden for Norway had been made, Johannes traveled with Anders roughly 110 kilometers to Gran prestegjeld (parish) in Hadeland, Kristians amt, Norway. Within a short time he met and, on January 3, 1856, married Rangdi Jacobsdatter. Rangdi's parents were Norwegian-born Jacob Erichsen and Anne Nielsdatter. At the time of their first child's arrival, Johannes and Rangdi lived together at Smedshammereiet gård, a tenant farm and Rangdi's childhood home at Gran.

Johannes and Rangdi eventually had ten children together, the first six of whom were born in Norway. Their first baby, Christian, was delivered at Smedshammereiet on January 25, 1856, within a month of his parents' marriage. Johannes and his family didn't stay long at Smedshammereiet, however, and moved to nearby Grimsrudeiet farm by the birth of daughter Anne in July 1857. Their next five children were born at Grimsrudeiet. They included: Anne, Jacob, Johanne, Eric and Niels Johannesson (Nels J. Melquist, who later married Mina Indahl). Four remaining children – Otava, Josephine, Antonette, and Rudolf – all were born in America.

Times remained difficult economically, and in 1866 our ancestors decided to leave their home in Norway. Like millions of other emigrants, they sought a better way of life in America. The 1865 Norway Census helps explain their decision to emigrate.

Johannes is listed as husmannsseddel med Jord, or a cottager with land. Having signed a contract with the property owner, Johannes agreed to work on the farm for a certain number of days, in exchange for his family's right to live on it. Rangdi and the children are listed, but next to each child's name is the Norwegian phrase, ug Understøttes lidt af Fattigvæsenet, which meant "and supported by the poor box." They weren't alone. The Norwegian-American Historical Association reminds us that early 1860's frosts killed the crops – and the hopes – of many thousands of Norwegians. An article stated: "Commenting on the rise of emigration in 1861, a Norwegian newspaper pointed out that the serious effects of the crop failures were now being felt and that people were emigrating despite the imminence of [Civil] war in the United States. It admitted that the soil was poorly cultivated in Norway, but declared that in other countries where agriculture was no more scientific, the people were better off. ‘The primary fact,' it concluded bitterly, ‘is that Norway lies north of the 58th degree and consists of large masses of rock.' And so, though it clung to the belief that emigrating [from Norway] to the United States was like jumping from the frying pan into the fire, it didn't blame the emigrants.

"The emigrants themselves didn't seem to be afraid to make this dire ‘jump.' For the five years from 1860 to 1865, Norwegian immigration was higher by more than three thousand than in the gala period from 1851 to 1856; and Swedish emigration showed a gain each year from 1859 to 1865."

Like throngs of other Scandinavians in the mid-1800s, our ancestors were in a financial predicament. Norwegians received letters from relatives who had left the homeland for America. They wrote of prosperity, fertile soil, acres of cheap land, and better labor prospects than could be found in the homeland. A new life in America beckoned!

The emigration record, Utflytta frå Gran, tells that Johannes, Rangdi, and the children left their parish on March 31, 1866. They trekked some 30 miles south to the coastal city of Christiania, known today as Oslo. Through the local agents, Falkenberg & McBlain, Johannes booked passage for his family aboard the sailing ship, Nordlyset. They likely spent a week or so in cheap accommodations in the city, as their ship underwent preparations for the long voyage in the harbor.

A passenger list on the Norway-Heritage website shows that "Johannes A. *Grimsrud*, 42, Rangdi Jacobsdatter *Grimsrud*, 40, wife, Anders Johannesen *Grimsrud* (12), Kristian Johannesen *Grimsrud* (9), Anne Johannesdatter *Grimsrud* (7), Jacob Johannesen *Grimsrud* (6), Johanne Johannesdatter *Grimsrud* (4), Erik Johannesen *Grimsrud* (2), and Nils Johannesen *Grimsrud* (9 mos)" were all aboard the Nordlyset on April 18, 1866, the day she hoisted anchor and set sail from Christiania's lovely fjord-lined harbor.

A Lutheran minister usually recited a prayer for the passengers' safe journey, before the anchor was lifted. Mastered by Captain E. Christophersen, the Nordlyset set sail in ballast with a 12-man crew, three passengers in cabin, and 169 in steerage – our ancestors among them. Passing Fæder lighthouse many hours later, she sailed south past Arendal and Kristiansand on her way around the southern tip of the country. Bearing northwest, the Nordlyset passed the lovely city of Bergen, on the west coast of Norway, before turning westward and traversing the North Sea. The last image our emigrants would have of their beloved Norway was of her beautiful snow-capped peaks. The ship sailed north of Scotland and embarked upon her journey across the treacherous Atlantic, pointing for Newfoundland and the mouth of the St. Lawrence River and Canada. Their Nordlyet voyage was short by the era's standards – it took only 36 days! An average trip from Christiania to Quebec was 56 days, depending on favorable winds.

The Nordlyset arrived at Quebec, Canada, on May 24, 1866. She had begun her voyage with 64 adult males, 42 adult females, 31 boys, 21 girls, and 11 infants. On a journey that was often perilous, only one passenger had died. One-year-old Maria Martinsdatter Egeberg had "died in convulsions" from teething during the trip; thankfully our immigrant family had been spared. The Nordlyset first anchored at the Quarantine Wharf at Grosse Isle, some 30 miles downstream from Quebec, in the middle of the mighty St. Lawrence River. Because immigrants often carried infectious diseases – smallpox, measles, cholera, typhus, and more – ship passengers first had to be inspected onboard by the Medical Superintendent's staff, before being allowed to proceed to Quebec. Since her passengers suffered no serious diseases, the Nordlyset was discharged that same day and soon lay moored in Quebec Harbor.

Our ancestors next began the final half of their odyssey, proceeding toward their ultimate destination – Minnesota. The Norwegian-American Historical Association provides us with clues to the path they took, although their exact route probably never will be known.

We know that our family eventually "landed at the port of Milwaukee" in June 1866 – both Johannes' and Rangdi's naturalization applications tell us so. The map below was produced two years later, in 1868. Keep in mind, of course, that Canadian and American railway systems grew more extensive each year. Another map, available at the Norway-Heritage website, shows the railroads in 1875. Using these maps, we can venture an educated guess as to the path our family took after leaving Quebec.

The Grand Trunk Railway was an early Canadian rail line. Incorporated in 1852-1853, it was designed to connect the key cities of eastern Canada with the American coastal city of Portland, Maine. Having done this in July 1853, the railroad continued constructing more lines. By the end of October 1856, Montreal was linked to Toronto. Then, on December 27, 1859, the Grand Trunk Railway completed the line that joined Toronto with the border city of Sarnia in Ontario, Canada. Sarnia lies at the southern tip of Lake Huron. Only the St. Clair River separates it from the American city of Port Huron, Michigan.

Ten-year-old Mikkel Mellum traveled from Norway to Minnesota through Quebec in April 1867 – one year after Johannes and his family accomplished the same. Mikkel likely traveled the same route as our ancestors, using Canadian trains to arrive at Sarnia, Ontario, ferrying across the river to Port Huron, Michigan, and traveling by American railcar to Detroit, Chicago, and Milwaukee. His story was featured in an article by B. E. Lund in "Gammelt frå Stange og Romedal," issued by Stange Historielag in 1975 and re-printed on the Norway-Heritage website.
"From Quebec to the U.S. border we traveled in carriages with upholstered seats, but after the border the carriages were much simpler. They looked like cargo carriages and had wooden benches. As it became very warm inside the train, people climbed up onto the roof, where they sat like crows. I was sitting next to my father on the roof of a carriage. Dad fell asleep, but then the brakeman waked him, he told us to hold on because the speed would increase as we were going downhill. Our next destination was Chicago. That is when our trouble really started, as our final destination was Rushford in Fillmore County, Minnesota, but we had no more money to travel..."

Mikkel Mellum's account reinforces what we might surmise about our ancestors' trip from Quebec. But the question next turns to their mode of transportation between Milwaukee and their ultimate destination near Albert Lea, Minnesota. Luckily, the rail system had been built out sufficiently by 1866 and they were spared traveling westward by ox-wagon – or by foot – as had many of their Norwegian predecessors.

A train likely carried the family across Wisconsin from Milwaukee to Dubuque in eastern Iowa. Then, after making a few connections, the train arrived at the city of Albert Lea in southern Minnesota. An 1855 map of the railroads shows how trains connected towns in the Midwest.

Both the East Freeborn Lutheran Church and Freeborn County courthouse records indicate that Johannes Andersson and his family arrived in Minnesota – perhaps at Bancroft Township, just north of Albert Lea – on June 9, 1866. Their journey had taken them 70 days to complete!

Exactly where Johannes, Rangdi, and their children lived during their first two years in Freeborn County is debatable. Homestead papers tell us that Johannes first resided on his Bancroft farm on the 15th of October 1868. The family first might have lived with Randi's brother, Christian Jacobsen, who had immigrated in 1861 and lived on a farm in nearby Riceland Township.

An important step for immigrants was to gain American citizenship – if not out of a sense of pride, then for the purpose of obtaining homestead property. Johannes appeared at the District Court in Albert Lea on November 2, 1868, and filed his "first papers." In this preliminary step toward naturalization, he renounced allegiance to the King of Sweden and Norway. More than five years then passed before Johannes once again walked into the District Court at Albert Lea. This time, on June 16, 1874, he brought Gilbert Gulbrandsen as his witness – and proudly walked from the courthouse as an American citizen!

On December 4, 1868, a month after signing his first papers for citizenship, Johannes had trekked nearly 50 miles eastward to the Receiver's Office in Winnebago City, Minnesota. He paid a $7 fee and, in the process, staked a homestead claim on 40 acres in the northeast quarter of the southwest quarter of section 10 at Bancroft. Nearly six years later, Johannes would make a 100-plus mile trip to the Land Office at Worthington, Minnesota, with two witnesses, Gunvold Johnsrud and Jacob Jacobsen.

On November 11, 1874, Johannes signed final legal proof papers and paid $2 to secure his homestead. On the forms, he claimed that he had first resided on the land on October 15, 1868, and he swore that he had built upon it a 13 x 16 foot log house with a sod roof, board floor, two windows and one door. In addition, Johannes noted that he had cultivated about 12 acres of the property, had a 14' x 35' straw stable, a 14' x 26' frame granary, and had dug a well. Johannes Andersson's homestead was officially granted on January 20, 1875.

By the early 1870s, Johannes had taken a new name – Melquist. Qvist means "twig" in Swedish…Google translate says that "Melkvist" in Swedish or Norwegian means "milk twig." It isn't known why he chose the name Mellqvist – or Melquist – but it wasn't a unique name for Americans of Swedish descent. Sadly, Johannes's eldest son, his beloved Anders, died on the 4th of July in 1870. He was buried in East Freeborn Lutheran Church cemetery, according to his church death record. Anders was just 17 years old.

Wishing to double the size of his farm, Johannes paid $360 to Mons Knudson for his 40-acre parcel, immediately north of the homestead – comprising the southeast quarter of the northwest quarter of section 10. The Freeborn County Standard cited this land transaction in its December 18, 1873 edition.

Prairie life was never easy, yet our ancestors certainly made a go of it. The 1870 census shows that "John Anderson" had improved 25 acres and held another 55 unimproved acres. The cash value of the farm was $1500, slightly above average among his neighbors for an 80-acre farm. He had only $50 worth of farm implements – slightly below average for a similar farm. Perhaps this is why he would soon be forced to borrow money. Johannes owned four milk cows, two working oxen, five "other cattle," twelve sheep, and one pig. In 1870 he had harvested 190 bushels of spring wheat – about average – but no Indian corn or oats, unlike most of his neighbors. Additionally, the farm produced 25 pounds of wool and 45 tons of hay, both of which topped the averages of surrounding farms, as well as 100 pounds of butter. The 1878 Bancroft Township plat map shows the location of the Melquist farm – although Johannes' name was misspelled, "J.A. Milgrist."

In 1874, the State of Minnesota passed what The Standard called "a new and iron-clad Tax Law." Property taxes were delinquent, if not paid by the 1st of June each year. A farmer was assessed a 10 percent penalty on that date and had two years to pay – or else the farm would be sold. Johannes was levied such penalties during the next couple years. The newspaper's policy was to publish a list of farmers with delinquent taxes. Included on the list for Bancroft, on August 2, 1877, was "J.A. Milgrist" – the misspelled version of Johannes' name. The property was identified correctly as the SE ¼ of the NW ¼, plus the NE ¼ of the SW ¼ of section 10. He owed $12.37. One year later, on July 18, 1878, "Johannes A. Melgrist" again was dubbed delinquent in The Standard. This time he owed ten dollars.

Measles swept through Bancroft in the spring of 1876, and on the 12th of March the virus claimed the Melquist's beloved 17-year-old son, Jacob. Johannes was cash-strapped. A short time later, on April 5, 1876, the couple signed a pact with The New England Mortgage Security Company. They borrowed $501 – due in full on May 16, 1881 – with 10% annual interest payable each 1st of July. They put up their farm as collateral, a decision that would come to haunt Rangdi.

Now Johannes' own health issues came into play. Easily fatigued and losing weight, his cough likely became more persistent, and he began having "night sweats" from his fever. He coughed sputum and blood. Johannes A. Melquist died on the farm, just shy of his 55th birthday, on February 19, 1879. The Register of Deaths for Bancroft Township cited "consumption" – an apt term for the miserable death caused by tuberculosis, the scourge that had claimed several of Johannes' own Swedish ancestors.

Leaving his widow and seven children to grieve, Johannes' funeral took place from the East Lutheran Church of Bancroft. He was buried on the third day of April, when the ground had thawed sufficiently, at the East Lutheran Cemetery, a few miles southeast of his farm. Sadly, his grave marker – as well as that of his son, Jacob Melquist –has been lost to the elements.