“A.N.” (Adolph Nathaniel) Larson, my grandpa, had a dream as a young man to own a business, and he set about accomplishing that in a seemingly deliberate manner. A.N. set out as a young man and found work in a grocery and dry goods store in Vernon, South Dakota. From there he moved on to a department store in Cooperstown, North Dakota and in 1912, arrived in Tenney, Minnesota where he purchased the general store from two gentlemen I only know as Mr. Simonitch and Mr. Hanson. The business had been operated as a general store for presumably about 10 years when A.N. came on the scene.
A.N. went about improving the store and adding merchandise he felt was appropriate for the village of Tenney. Over time, people would say such things as, “That Larson store had EVERYTHING!” From work gloves to Home Brand canned goods to toothpaste to chicken feed to work boots to sewing notions and bananas, the Larson Store took care of providing most of the consumable goods for Tenney folks during the 35 years that he ran the place. On Saturday nights the Larson Store became the gathering place for women, as they gave their list to A.N. to fill, and visited with other women as the men gathered at the pool hall for a beer and perhaps some card playing. The picture above shows A.N. (in the suit, on the right) in his store in 1913, the year after he purchased it.
I have learned through my Tenney research that A.N. was a well-respected businessman in town. People have told me stories about how Grandpa A.N. never turned away a person who really needed food or supplies, and I know from my own family lore that A.N. sold the business and left with a cigar box full of unpaid customer bills that never did get collected. People tell me that he was very patient with his customers, and had a wise, fatherly manner of dealing with them. He was an honest, steady man from all accounts.
Only as an adult did I realize the magnitude of the burdens that Grandpa bore from the losses in his life. In 1929, A.N. lost his first wife, Linda, to Tuberculosis. In 1931, his 17-year-old son, Andrew, died tragically when a hunting companion’s gun discharged in the car in which they were both riding. Though A.N. remarried, and he and Audrey (Polifka) welcomed little Helen Jo the next year after Andrew died, the magnitude of the loss of Linda and Andrew was magnified several years later in 1956, when A.N.’s other son, Ralph, drowned while duck hunting. As I ponder this sequence of events now, I wonder how much loss one person could endure. Indeed, I’ve heard it said that Grandpa was so filled with grief after the loss of his second and remaining son that some in his family wondered whether or not he would be able to attend Ralph's funeral.
My own memories of my Grandpa A.N. are fleeting but sweet. I vividly remember sitting on his lap as a young child, and I remember him being very tender with me. I remember that the basement at Grandma and Grandpa’s house was Grandpa’s domain, and he had what I thought at the time was hundreds of cigar boxes down there, filled with nuts and bolts and ballpoint pens and string and doo dads of various sorts. As I mention in The Tenney Quilt, I very distinctly remember Grandpa keeping a supply of fudge stripe cookies and banana-flavored circus peanuts in jars in a certain kitchen cupboard. In my mind’s eye I can picture Grandpa standing in front of that cupboard in a gray cardigan sweater and baggie brown pants, unscrewing the lid on the jar, with a very satisfied, "Grandpa-has-something-special-for-you" look on his face. And out would come a fudge stripe cookie. Grandpa lived until I was 11 years old, but the last years of his life did not allow for much interaction, as he was hospitalized.
I am grateful for THE TENNEY QUILT project, which has shed light on Grandpa’s character and the amount of respect that Grandpa A.N. garnered in the little town of Tenney.
A.N. went about improving the store and adding merchandise he felt was appropriate for the village of Tenney. Over time, people would say such things as, “That Larson store had EVERYTHING!” From work gloves to Home Brand canned goods to toothpaste to chicken feed to work boots to sewing notions and bananas, the Larson Store took care of providing most of the consumable goods for Tenney folks during the 35 years that he ran the place. On Saturday nights the Larson Store became the gathering place for women, as they gave their list to A.N. to fill, and visited with other women as the men gathered at the pool hall for a beer and perhaps some card playing. The picture above shows A.N. (in the suit, on the right) in his store in 1913, the year after he purchased it.
I have learned through my Tenney research that A.N. was a well-respected businessman in town. People have told me stories about how Grandpa A.N. never turned away a person who really needed food or supplies, and I know from my own family lore that A.N. sold the business and left with a cigar box full of unpaid customer bills that never did get collected. People tell me that he was very patient with his customers, and had a wise, fatherly manner of dealing with them. He was an honest, steady man from all accounts.
Only as an adult did I realize the magnitude of the burdens that Grandpa bore from the losses in his life. In 1929, A.N. lost his first wife, Linda, to Tuberculosis. In 1931, his 17-year-old son, Andrew, died tragically when a hunting companion’s gun discharged in the car in which they were both riding. Though A.N. remarried, and he and Audrey (Polifka) welcomed little Helen Jo the next year after Andrew died, the magnitude of the loss of Linda and Andrew was magnified several years later in 1956, when A.N.’s other son, Ralph, drowned while duck hunting. As I ponder this sequence of events now, I wonder how much loss one person could endure. Indeed, I’ve heard it said that Grandpa was so filled with grief after the loss of his second and remaining son that some in his family wondered whether or not he would be able to attend Ralph's funeral.
My own memories of my Grandpa A.N. are fleeting but sweet. I vividly remember sitting on his lap as a young child, and I remember him being very tender with me. I remember that the basement at Grandma and Grandpa’s house was Grandpa’s domain, and he had what I thought at the time was hundreds of cigar boxes down there, filled with nuts and bolts and ballpoint pens and string and doo dads of various sorts. As I mention in The Tenney Quilt, I very distinctly remember Grandpa keeping a supply of fudge stripe cookies and banana-flavored circus peanuts in jars in a certain kitchen cupboard. In my mind’s eye I can picture Grandpa standing in front of that cupboard in a gray cardigan sweater and baggie brown pants, unscrewing the lid on the jar, with a very satisfied, "Grandpa-has-something-special-for-you" look on his face. And out would come a fudge stripe cookie. Grandpa lived until I was 11 years old, but the last years of his life did not allow for much interaction, as he was hospitalized.
I am grateful for THE TENNEY QUILT project, which has shed light on Grandpa’s character and the amount of respect that Grandpa A.N. garnered in the little town of Tenney.
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