AT CHURCH: From left Harold 11, Brice 9, Burgandy 5, Jeremy 3, and Schuyler 1
BEGINNINGS--
It was early 1979 when we first learned that Ball Corporation was going to build a can plan in Sweden as partners with PLM--a leading European company. Ross said he thought it would be neat if we got to go.
It didn't souond interesting to me as I had recently read the Swedish government had passed a law that parents could not spank their children. Since I occasionally spank my children, I didn't like the sound of that. Plus Sweden is close to the USSR, and as unsettled as world events are today, I didn't like the idea of being away from home.
I promptly dismissed any thought of our coming to Sweden. We were preparing to live in Virginia for several months, and I didn't see any logical plan that would allow us back-to-back TDY experiences.
We moved to Virginia in September of 1979. On December 15, 1979 when Ross had been home from work about 15 minutes, the phone rang. It was long distance from Ball Corporation in Denver. "Would Ross and his family be interested in going to Sweden for several months while plant operations were completed there?"
The company gave us several weeks to thik about it, but the decision was made the first evening really. The "Virginia Experience" was over the rough spots and well on the way to becoming one of the most positive times in our lives. It was on that basis we said "yes"!
In February 1980 one of the PLM executives and several from Ball in Denver came to Williamsburg where they presented a seminar about what to expect, etc. to the prospective workers and families. After that it was passport photos and applications, forms to the Swedish government for residence and work permits. And it seemed like a million other details to work out.
When we returned to Denver in June 1980, we began an 8-week Swedish class to give us a brief background. We met at the Ball Corporation's Colorado Office Center on Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday mornings from 8:30 - 10:30 a.m. Gunnell Thorsin, a Swedish professor from the university of Colorado-Boulder was our teacher. While Ross, Harold, Brice, and I were at class, Burgandy and Jeremy either went to Maureen Evan's who took care of Schuyler, or to Happy Valley Children's Ranch.
All too soon, or not soon enough depending on which way we looked at the time situation/schedule, the packers arrived at 8:05 a.m. on Monday, September 15th.
The hot breakfast cereal was still in the pan on the stove, and I had just changed Schuyler's diaper from the night, and he was wearing only a dispoable diaper. He remained that way--undressed and unfed--and the rest of the kids unfed, too, until after the packers left at 1:30 p.m.
It was total chaos and a real madhouse while the packers were there at our Secrest Court house. It didn't even seem to have helped that we had tried to round-up and put into two rooms ALL the things we were going to take. The packers didn't crate the play pen in the first big flat box, and when I mentioned it, they were very irate. "Lady, if you think we're going to unpack this box to put in the playpen, you're crazy!"
"Forget it!. I'll get another one in Sweden," I said.
Before they finished the packing, the workers had used another big, flat carton. But they still wouldn't pack the playpen in it. They grumbled the whole time they were packing. Someone had told them "about 500 pounds". Turns out it was over 2,000 pounds, and that ruined their day.
After the packers left, we ate the cold, stiff cereal and finally dressed Schuyler in some clothes. He couldn't have been more patient with everything going on around him.
Ross needed to go back to work, and because I left Ross' new shoes out near the "go pile", the shoes got packed. I needed to go buy him a new pair.
So, I drove Ross to work and caught the boulder Turnpike to go down to Wards on Broadway. When I arrived at the catalog department, the computer had been down and the order still wasn't filled. The clerk assured me that if she submitted the order again, it would be down in about 30 minutes. (At that time all fulfillment was done at that huge store at 6th and Broadway) Thirty minutes passed with no shoes in sight. It was getting close to impossible for me to make it to the Golden Post Office (we used to have a Golden address) to sign the papers for Rosalie to pick up our mail while we were gone.
I had to call Ross, who took care of it. He borrowed a company car and drove to Golden to sign the needed papers. Meanwhile, still at Wards, I decided to see if I could get Jeremy some tennis shoes in another part of the store. THAT'S when I discovered my wallet was NOT in my purse!!
I did find a pick-up receipt from Wards catalog department in my purse. With that and my sob story about really needing the shoes, I managed to get Jeremy some new sneakers and some shoes for both me ad Ross. But I was at the store over two and a half hours. From there I drove through rush hour traffic to the Lakeside Wards to get the boys some Sunday slacks.
Then the car wouldn't start when I got back out to the parking lot. There were some really tense moments while first one woman and later a man tried to help me. At first we couldn't even get the hood up on the car. But when we did, we used the jumper cable , and the car's engine fired right up.
I went straight u to Ross' office only to find he was still not done with his work. I called the kids to see how everything was working out. I had been gone over four hours by then. They were fine, and said Kay Bashford had brought a treat for them to play with on the plane. Also Grandpa and Grandma Huggins had called. Eleven year old Harold had done a great job supervising. And the rest had done a great job cooperating in an unusual situtation.
I called Kay Bashford with a big thank you. Then Ross and I called Grandpa and Grandma Huggins from the WATS line at the office to say goodbye to them.
The rest of the day continued to be a wide-awake nightmare! The car was dead again when Ross finally did finish his work at 7:30 p.m. He had to push the Mustang to get it started.
There were still a few things we needed to get at the store. The first store we stopped at didn't have what we needed. So, we drove all the way down into Arvad to K-Mart and Walgreens, up to Yellow Front to get Brice's tennis shoes, and then home at last. Whew! Uh-oh! Ross had to go back for an oil filter and other items. It was 9 p.m. when we finally got home. The kids had managed quite well considering the Mom had been gone almost seven hours!
Ross and I quickly fed the kids and put them to bed. Then Ross and I did the last minute packing, checking every little detail, and anything else that came to mind which needed to be taken care of.He laid down for a couple of hours, but I never did go to bed. By the time I took my shower, it was time to get everyone up, close the suitcases, and get into the taxi which arrived at 6 a.m.
It was a grey morning and strangely routine, it seemed, for its finally being the day we were to embark on new adventures and leave our house and possessions behind once more.
Nor did it seem hard or sad to look at the house one last time as we pulled out of the driveway and drove down Secrest Court to the corner of 74th. Mentally, I was ticking off the list in my mind, wondering if we had forgotten anything. And the kids were doing their usual complaining about who got to sit by the window in the taxi.
We were at Stapleton Airport in plenty of time. I had often wondered (those many, many, many times we have taken Ross to the airport to go off on a businees trip by himsel) what it would feel like to be going with him instead of waving goodbye to him at the gate.
Well, with five kids, one stroller, eight suitcases, two canvas bags, one purse, a camera, a briefcase--AND a gallon jug of orange Juice--it was just a relief to get settled on the plane.
Soon greakfast was served and after a few minutes of looking out the window after that, we landed in Los Angeles. It was not even 9 a.m. PDT, and we were anxious to get to Disneyland.
First we arrived at the motel to leave our bags--whoops! WRONG Holiday Inn. And the right one didn't have our rooms ready. We got back in the rental car--a nice roomy station wagon which felt like a limousine because the kids were so far back from hanging over the front seat--and took off for Disneyland.
DISNEYLAND was all and more we had imagined. Ross had tickets from the times he'd been before, but we bought some more. Then two different parties at Disneyland itself itself gave us their tickets which they couldn't use. We ended up with more tickets than WE could use either. So, we have tickets if we ever go again.
I can see now why Ross raved about some of the attractions: America the Beautiful, Abraham Lincoln and some of the other FREE exhibits. It was like Greenfield Village in Detroit, Busch Bardens in Williamsburg, and other amusement/historical parks all rolled into one big place. Unfortunately, it all ended at 6 p.m.
We compromised with the food. Ross bought me Chinese food which I ate at McDonald's while the rest ate American hamburgers the last time for the next several months.
Back at the motel, we tried to get hold of Stewart Huntington, without success. The information operator claimed she couldn't find a number listed for the Arcadia Mission. In fact she couldn't even find a number for the Los Angeles Temple. (Obviously this was before the internet. Back then all those numbers were listed under The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.)
So we had to wait until the next day when we left Orange County and went back into Los Angeles County before we could get the numbers we needed. As it turned out, we never did get hold of Stewart (who was serving a mission in Arcadia). We called and called but never got him at his apartment. And the temple didn't provide a..........
AND THAT'S WHEN SOMEONE MUST HAVE INTERRUPTED ME TO GO TAKE CARE OF SOME MOM STUFF. THAT'S ALL I WROTE IN THAT SLIM LITTLE NOTEBOOK ABOUT OUR ADVENTURES IN THE "SWEDEN SAGA".
And now, so much time has passed--forty years--I couldn't remember anything if you threathened me with my life.
Sorry!
Afternote: But I did find some singular entries at the back of that little notebook about the differences between the physical aspects of Sweden and the United States, the Church there, and a couple of notes about the trip down into Western Europe we took when Grandpa and Grandma Huggins came for a month's visit. I'll see if I can include them at some future date for a blog entry, if you're interested. Let me know....
TOP: Picture of our chapel in Malmo, Sweden
BOTTOM: Picture of our row house in Malmo--Enbarsgaten 9
This is the back side looking from the north on Vista Skravelingens
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