Every Man In His Own Tongue

by

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It was back in the 1890's that a young couple set sail from Norway, via steer­age, to the land of promise—America. The wife and mother, a flaxen-haired, pink-cheeked young woman barely out of her mature teens, cradled her baby boy in her arms, as with eyes wide with won­der and amazement she walked with her husband down the gangplank to Ellis Island, where they would be checked for entry into the United States.

Milwaukee, Wisconsin, was the final destination where the trio settled and life in America really began. As the years rolled by six more children were added to the family—four girls and two boys. Fatal illnesses took away the four girls early in life. The three boys lived on.

Mr. Jacobsen obtained employment with a mattress manufacturing concern. Skilled in his work and faithful in service, he rose to the position of foreman and received the munificent (in those days) weekly salary of $15.00. But the Jacob­sens were frugal people and even on so small a stipend they were able to make the down payment on a home of their own.

Those were glorious days in spite of disease and death. The family united with the Norwegian-Danish Methodist Church, and it was not long before they had a host of friends who were also either im­migrants or the children of immigrants.

Then came the tragic day when death struck again. Mr. Jacobsen passed away, the victim of cancer. To Jennie Jacobsen this seemed more than she could bear. But life continued to assert itself and recovering from the shock she gave her attention to raising her boys. The oldest had recently married the daughter of a Methodist preacher. It was not long be­fore the second oldest joined the Navy and went off to sea.

Lonely, and having difficulty in keeping up the home, Jennie Jacobsen united in marriage with another immigrant from Norway, a carpenter. So there were three in the home once again—Jennie Jacobsen­Dalberg, and the youngest boy, Melvin.

Years passed by. Melvin lost faith in the church and finally married a Roman Catholic girl, much to the dismay of his Methodist mother. But even events such as these have pink-lined clouds, for, strange as it may seem, Melvin and Katherine became Seventh-day Adventists while living in Duluth, Minnesota. That was another unaccountable thing in the sight of the mother.

As with most new converts in the Ad­vent movement, these young folk desired nothing more than to see their relatives in the same church. Mother Jacobsen­Dalberg was not at all assured that Satur­daykeeping was right. Sunday was so ingrained in her nature that it almost seemed sacrilegious to think of resting on any other day. When Mr. Jacobsen was alive the family observed the keeping of Sunday very strictly from six o'clock Saturday night until six o'clock Sunday night. No newspapers, no shining of shoes, no unnecessary work whatsoever was permitted. The day was devoted strictly to worship and religious exercises, combined with walks in the park in the afternoon when the weather permitted.