Christmas would not be Christmas without the tradition of making Grandma Freeberg's coffee bread. The aroma of cinnamon and cardamom wafting through the house whisks me back to my childhood. Grandma’s braided bread always looked as if it were photographed for a high-end cookbook. I struggle to create her perfect loaf.
Albertina Gustav Dahlin was born November 16, 1888 in Verhult, Harlunda, Sweden. She grew up in a poor rural area where the younger generation left as soon as they could. Albertina's father, Gustav Dahlin, left Sweden at age 22 with the hope of working on the railroad or striking it rich in the gold mines of Cripple Creek, Colorado. The lure to escape the drudgery of a small farmer beholden to wealthy landowners was a strong impetus to leave Sweden. According to historical records a drought, famine, and poor crops led to an exodus from the mother country.
Family records indicate that he returned to Sweden two years later in 1886, stayed for two years, and returned to America in 1888 before Albertina was born. He never returned to his homeland. Gustav left Sweden with the promise from his family they would follow him after the birth of their third child, my grandma.
My great-grandma Emma, Gustav's wife, did not fulfill the promise she made to him, she never left Sweden. But in 1905, my grandma left Sweden at 17, to join her father in Cripple Creek. Her name was changed to Alice somewhere along her journey, perhaps Ellis Island. Grandma never talked about her life so there are many gaps that remain a mystery to our family.
A marriage certificate from Victor, Colorado states she married Axal Steele in June 1909. A very short time later Axal died. How sad. Oh, how I wish that I had been more inquisitive about her life's journey. Dates and times on a spreadsheet one hundred years later offers so little insight and creates an unsatisfyingly incomplete story.
Alice made her way to Omaha, Nebraska after the death of Axal and married Karl Freeberg in 1911. My mother Doris was born in January 1923. She was the first generation in America of her immigrant parents. I am only one generation removed from my grandparents' home country.
My last name clearly identifies me with Ireland; the paternal side of my family settled in this country earlier in the 19th century. My Swedish heritage remains hidden with a name like O’Brien. My strong attachment to my maternal side has a lot to do with the type of country Sweden is today, a social democracy that is rated as one of the happiest countries in the world.
Back to Grandma’s Swedish coffee bread.
In 1978 when my mother passed away I retrieved the coffee bread recipe from her standard 4 x 6" recipe box. Most house wives had these treasured boxes in their kitchen drawers or cupboards in the 50s and 60s. I imagine many women still have them in their kitchens. I still have mine.
The cherished oil stained Swedish Coffee Bread recipe in my mother's handwriting. Note the illustration of how to braid the bread.
The youngest of the eight O'Brien’s has been insistent over the years that we pay homage to Grandma and our Swedish heritage by baking the bread at Christmas. Every year I get the tattered and oil stained recipe card out to replicate the aromatic, tasty coffee bread. I know I should copy it onto a clean 4 x 6" card but I cannot bear to destroy a piece of my mother that will always remain with me. Memories transmitted from this smudged card are irreplaceable.
I reflect on my grandma’s journey in my warm and toasty kitchen with enticing scents emanating from the oven. She embarked on a ship that sailed to Copenhagen, on to Liverpool then on to New York. Disembarking from the ship, she boarded a train to travel across the United States to join her father in Colorado. As far as my family knows, she did this on her own. Grandma left familiar surroundings, family and friends to travel into the unknown.
I am proud of my ancestors' immigrant status. They helped build a country that created opportunities for people to start life anew even though our country founded on genocide and slavery.
Their lives link me to the past and remind me of the present with so many migrants coming to our country to seek what they have imagined as a better life. For many, many of them it is a better life if they can get past the barriers that prevent them from starting anew.
The men and women we elected to serve us in our nation’s Capital have neglected to do their job - developing an immigration policy that clearly lays out a pathway to citizenship. This is the work of Congress and the President - not just the sitting President.
What has Congress accomplished this year? The House of Representatives were dismissed before Christmas for three weeks. Speaker of the House, Mike Johnson and members of the House fled to their districts where life is more comfortable. They have escaped to places they can hang out with friends and family and evade their responsibility. Very few will conduct public meetings in their districts where they can hear from their constituents.
The House of Representatives has neglected to own up to their poor performance. Congress passed a paltry 27 Bills that President Biden signed. Their underperformance has labeled them the most do-nothing Congress in our country’s history. Disgusting! The few Maga Republicans in Congress have used theatrics to stop the government from working, most likely their intended goal. If people stop believing in government, it endangers the precepts of democracy.
Democracy has been the center of our U.S. history since the 1860s. Supporting democracy not only promotes such fundamental American values as religious freedom and worker rights, but also helps create a more secure, stable, and prosperous global arena.
My hope for 2024 is that those who have achieved a comfortable status in our country will demand that our government develop a path to citizenship that was offered to my grandma. May our outlook on life be one of a glass half full rather than half empty. When we embrace a philosophy of plenty and bring diversity and inclusion with the current attitude of exclusion, we can all be winners.
How could we ever forget that we are a nation of immigrants?
LOVE this piece! The recipe card, the history, connections to your family story, and the op ed activist "hope" for the future! 💜