75-year-old murder mystery

The murder of Alvira Johnson and her seven children in Harris remains unsolved. Husband Albin Johnson has never been found.

* This was one of the most interesting stories I ever looked into.

The most brutal murders to occur in Chisago County remain unsolved after 75 years.

Early on Tuesday morning, April 11, 1933, twenty-nine-year-old Alvira Johnson perished in a house fire along with her seven children. She was pregnant with her eighth baby at the time.

Carrying the blame for their deaths is the father, Albin Johnson of Harris. He has never been found.

Today, the circumstances surrounding the fire are as much a mystery as they were in 1933.

Trying to get to the bottom of the case

Nan Hult of North Branch has been trying to unravel the clues surrounding the death of Alvira and her eight children for three years.

A 40-plus year resident of the area, she had never heard of the tragedy until one evening while dining with fellow North Branch resident and old-timer Clayton Anderson, who was among the fire site investigators. She was amazed that such a thing had happened and further amazed that it isn't talked about.

The case had continued to hold its secrets.

Hult has been unable to get a copy of either the coroner's report or the sheriff's report, despite repeated trips to both the Minnesota Historical Society in St. Paul and the Chisago County Courthouse. The files are missing, and both agencies say the other location must house them. She can't see a copy of the federal indictment against Albin because it is still technically an open case.

She wonders if it is a cover-up and who is being protected.

Albin's family? His father, Emil, was a respected man who built the Lutheran church in Harris with his brother. His brother-in-law, H.A. Galpin, was a well-known businessman in St. Paul.

The investigators? Did they botch the investigation as Galpin accused them of doing?

"I come to a dead end everywhere," said Hult.

"The whole thing gets stranger the farther we go," said fellow researcher Dick Lindgren of Spring Lake.

He's not in the ruins

The bodies of eight were positively identified by 4 p.m. on Wednesday, April 12 according to the Braham Journal.

Alvira had slept with four-month-old James in one room, and five children were in another. Harold, the oldest, slept in the kitchen. The basement of the house extended only under the kitchen and it was in this excavation that the body of the seventh child was found. Searchers initially expected to find Albin's body there, as well, but a thorough search with a rake on Wednesday revealed nothing.

"I went through every bit of the ruins myself, and I am as certain as I can be that [Albin] Johnson's body is not there," Deputy Coroner A. O. Stark of Harris is reported to have said.

There was the belief that if Albin had snapped, killed his family and lit the home on fire, that he may have killed himself in remorse and would be found nearby, noted Hult.

Over the course of the next few days, the small lake and woods near the home were searched for Albin's body by over 50 people.

The search team swelled to over 300 a week later who combed the St. Croix River area for a six-mile stretch between Sunrise and Rush City, but they found no trace of Albin. The river was dragged in a search for his body.

He had last been seen late in the day at both Harris and Rush City. However, he had never paid the rent of $25 for the new place in Rush City with money his brother-in-law Matt Scherer had loaned him despite the fact that his family was supposed to move there the next day.

In the St. Paul Dispatch the day after the fire, Coroner L.N. Westberg of Center City stated, "We have no evidence to indicate that the fire might have been planned. True, Johnson is still missing, but so far as we can learn, he was rational and fully intended to move."

The day before the blaze Albin had told his brother-in-law Fred Peterson that he was practically set to move, Fred told authorities.

Authorities believe the fire started at about 3 a.m.

Chief Hanson found four neighbors present when he arrived, and he immediately instituted a search of the outbuildings and surrounding fields for occupants of the home, but they were unable to find any trace of them.

As the fire burned down, one of the bodies could be seen in the burning embers, according to the Rush City Post.

Troubling authorities were the tire tracks made in the freshly fallen snow that led away from the farmhouse. Neighbors remembered hearing an automobile drive off in the middle of the night shortly before the fire was discovered.

"The terrible tragedy which has taken eight lives and leaves the fate of the missing father a mystery, has left the community horror stricken at the terrible fate of this mother and the seven children," stated the North Branch paper on Thursday, April 13, 1933.

The funeral for the 29-year-old mother and her seven children was held on Saturday at the Rush City Lutheran Church that Alvira had grown up attending. The remains of all eight fit in one flower-decked casket.

Over 350 people attended the service.

On April 15, the St. Paul Dispatch reported that Chisago County Attorney S. Bernard Wennerberg had launched an intensive investigation to determine whether the eight were slain before they perished in the fire.

Theories about why Albin might have killed his family

Some thought Albin hopped the midnight train that ran through Rush City and headed towards Canada where he had worked as a logger before. Others thought someone else might have lit the blaze after he had left. Bulletins went out, and the search included Canadian mounted police. One person in Canada reported seeing Albin, but authorities couldn't catch up with him. At one point a month later, they thought they picked him up in North Dakota – but it turned out to be the wrong guy.

Rumors were plentiful. Some said the victims were beheaded and all the heads piled up in the basement. Others thought they had all been shot, and pointed to the two pistols and rifle found in the ruins as evidence. Albin's dog was rumored to have layed on one spot in a field for several days before he disappeared, and some thought that spot must have been where Albin's body was buried.

Some remember the Johnson brothers (Ted, Albin, Henry and Hjalmer), as being rough, tough and mean men who were feared by others. They were all handsome.Cliff Bedell, who currently resides on the old Johnson farm, theorizes that perhaps it was not Albin who was the perpetrator but his brothers. "He may have argued with his brothers, and they may have committed this violence and buried Albin somewhere," said Bedell.

Albin's brothers Henry and Ted were thought to be uninterested in the search, instead smoothing over an area of one field.

A gas can was discovered that was believed to have been used to start the blaze; it was taken as evidence by Chisago County.

Authorities could never figure out how the fire started, although it was presumed it began in the kitchen where the only stove was located. Nor could they figure out how all eight remained in their sleeping positions. Surely, if Albin had killed one or two with a gunshot or strangulation it would have woken others, particularly in the room that housed five.

Dr. C.A. Erdman of the University of Minnesota speculated that they had been either beaten to death or poisoned.

An indictment was made on Oct. 20, 1933 charging Albin with first degree murder.

The home is ablaze

The blaze was first noticed in the Ragner Krantz home about one-half mile from the Johnson's farmhouse at about 3:30 a.m.

His five-year-old son woke up to see orange light flickering like waves on his walls. Padding downstairs he found his mother who had also been awakened, according to Hult. A current resident of Hawaii he remembers it as though it happened yesterday.

Ragner was the first person to summon the Harris and Rush City Fire Departments. After making the call, Krantz hastened over to the farm house.

"After giving the alarm, I drove over to the Johnson place as fast I could get there, but the house by that time was almost totally destroyed. Only one corner remained standing and after a short while that crumpled too."

She screamed and screamed and screamed

Alvira's niece, Jeanette E. Johnson, will never forget when the telephone rang in the early hours of the morning on April 11 and they learned of the fire.

Her mother, Freda, who was very close in age to Alvira, screamed and screamed and screamed.

Alvira's parents were living with Freda's family at the time. The tragedy was very hard on them, recalled Jeanette.

Alvira's family members hired the Pinkerton Detective Agency to help them find answers. Christine gathered together all the money she had - which wasn't much – to pay for the detectives.

A reward of $50 was offered for information leading to Albin's whereabouts.

Many theories were offered as to why Albin might have killed his family and then left town. He had been experiencing hard times, and his own father had evicted him 10 days earlier from the farmhouse where they were staying. He struggled to make a living as a farmer; his brother-in-law had been unsuccessful at getting Albin a job where he worked at the Rush City flour mill.

"Was a proud man who did not have the means to support his family tempted to take drastic measures?" asked author and distant relative Brian Johnson in an article published in the April 9, 1992 Post Review.

Albin's family doesn't believe he killed his wife and children

Albin's family steadfastly refused to believe that he had done such a terrible deed, and professed that he had died in the fire.

Meanwhile others, such as Krantz and Scherer, purchased guns to protect themselves in case Albin were to return.

"We were all afraid," said neighbor Mae Oscarson.

It was this fear of Albin exacting revenge that kept people from talking about the deaths of Alvira and her seven children, believes Hult. She also thinks it is why today few in Chisago County have heard about the tragedy.

Three years after the tragedy occurred, Albin's brother-in-law Harry .A. Galpin wrote a scathing letter blaming authorities for a botched investigation. This letter was notarized in the state of Nebraska.

He charged that the Chisago County Attorney S. Bernard Wennerberg, Sheriff James A. Smith and Deputy Coroner Albert O. Stark committed 31 errors in their handling of the case.

"These charges ranged from perjury to destruction of evidence to incompetence and negligence, and to railroading a murder indictment against a man known to be dead, to cover up the ghastly blunder of the Deputy Coroner who had cast Johnson's remains outside the foundation where they were trampled under foot by spectators," wrote Galpin.

Galpin insisted that relatives had found bones in a distant part of the ruins that belonged to Johnson.

He called for a burial certificate to be issued so that his family could inter those bones.

About county officials, Galpin complained, "At no time did they show the slightest inclination to guard Johnson's relatives against the possibility of placing false charge against him."

TIDBITS

• Albin's father, Emil, built the Lutheran church of Harris.

• The remains of Alvira and her seven children fit in one coffin, which was interred in the Rush City First Lutheran Cemetery east of town.

• The family had been sleeping on makeshift beds as they planned to move the next day. All of their possessions were loaded on a cart outside the door, which also burned in the blaze.

• The Johnson children attended the now defunct Chippewa Hill School, along with their cousins (Freda's children).

• The tragedy gained the attention of the entire country and beyond. Stories were printed in newspapers as far away as Texas, California and Winnipeg, Canada.

THE FAMILY

Albin Johnson, age 43

Mrs. Alvira (Lundeen) Johnson, age 29

Harold, age 10

Clifford, age 9

Kenneth, age 7

Dorothy, age 5

Bernice, age 4

Lester, age 2

James, age 4 month

Unborn child

Meet Albin

Albin Johnson was described as a strong man with large hands. A typical farmer and woodsman. He typically wore blue overalls over a dark suit and a woodsman's cap. He rose to a height of six feet, three inches and weighed 240 pounds at age 43.

While some knew Johnson as a hard worker, others considered him a mean man. Neighbor Mae Oscarson recalled him as a morose, introverted character who "never said a word."

Jeanette said her uncle would literally steal candy from babies. "When he went to town, the storekeepers who knew the famly was poor would send candy home with him for the kids. He would eat the candy himself and throw the bag away before he got home," said Jeanette.

Alvira's family was against their marriage.

Meet Alvira

The youngest of four girls, Alvira was a pretty child with blond hair, blue eyes and dimples. She had a happy and carefree childhood on the Lundeen family farm in Rush City.

She was remembered as a gentle character whose love and care for her children and home spoke of the untiring and courageous disposition which were her chief characteristics, as stated in the Rush City Post story about her funeral.

As a child, Jeanette played with Harold, who was just two years her junior. She recalled pulling him in a wagon. "Often mother would scold me for eating too much when we were visiting them, as they were poor and didn't have much, but everything tasted so good.

"Also I couldn't understand why Santa didn't leave them anything at Christmas, especially when their need was so great.

"How difficult it must have been for Alvira, caring for her seven children, so close in age, as well as taking care of her many household duties," mused Jeanette.

HISTORY OF THE FARMHOUSE

• Owned by Emil & Cecilia Johnson

• Albin, wife Alvira and seven children resided there until 1933

• Fire burns house to ground on April 11, 1933

• Albin's brother, Henry, and his wife Mary (first married to the elder brother Ted) move back and become joint tenants with Emil.

• After living first in the grainery, Henry and Mary build a home over the old housefire site in 1949.

• Mary sells the farm to Mike Willer and family in 1969

• Willer sells the farm to Cliff and Pat Bedell in June 1972

WHAT BECAME OF …

The Johnsons

Father Emil - Died in 1948. He was praised for being of strong body and sturdy character. Emil never accepted that his son killed his wife and children.

Mother Cecelia - Died unexpectedly at a young age in 1924 (before the tragedy).

Brother Ted - Moved for a time to Flint, Mich. where he went by Carl T. After his wife, Mary, ran off with his brother he moved up north and became a hermit. He married twice more. Ted died from a massive heart attack. He was found on his front lawn in Gaylord, Minn.

Sister Olga Galpin - Lived in the Twin Cities along with husband, Harry. The two pushed for an exoneration of Albin, and purportedly has discovered his bones in the far part of the basement.

Brother Henry - Married his brother's ex-wife Mary and stayed in the area. He later built a home on the foundation of the house that Alvira and her children perished in. While in his younger years, people said he was violent and liked to fight, in his later years he was known as a kind and gentle man who wanted no discourse with his neighbors. He died in 1967, and Mary passed away in 1988.

Sister Esther Lodge - Survived a stove explosion, but died of a heart ailment in 1930. She had married well-known boxer Walter Lodge, who was known as Farmer Lodge but born as Lodge Feaski. He died in 1941 from pneumonia which set in after he fell off a grain stack.

Brother Hjalmer - Buried with his parents in the family plot at the cemetery midway between North Branch and Harris off County Road 30

Sister Elsie Johnson Peterson - Lived out of state

The Lundeens

Mother Christine - Celebrated her 100th birthday at Green Acres on Dec. 24 and died one month later.

Father Fred - Died three years after his daughter Alvira in 1936. He had been ill for several years.

Sister Olga Zacherson - Moved to Minneapolis where she died in 1951. He husband, John, worked for the railroad for 52 years.

Sister Ellen Scherer - Remained in Rush City and was affectionately known as "Grandma Scherer" to all the children she babysat. Her son, Richard Vernon, died at age four in 1929 after being struck by an automobile. He was returning home from the mill where his father, Matt, worked. Her grandson, Charles W. Naslund, also died young of injuries sustained in an automobile crash.

Brother-in-law Matt Scherer - Died at age 81 in the barber chair, the same chair his father had died in.

Sister Freda Peterson - Was confirmed in 1916 at Rush City Lutheran Church, part of the last class in Swedish. The nearest in age to Alvira, the two were especially close.

THE RESEARCHERS

Nan Hult of North Branch believes it was Albin who killed his wife and children. She thinks that because he was unable to continue providing for his seven children with another one on the way that he snapped. "Apparently, it was overwhelming. He went there, killed them and started the fire," said Hult.

Researcher Dick Lindgren of Spring Lake is certain Albin either made good on his escape and was never heard from again; or he walked out into the woods and committed suicide. He leans towards the first theory, as Albin's body was never discovered despite there being an extensive search, which at one point included 300 people. "My guess is he hit the trail and was never heard from again," said Lindgren. "You could lose yourself in the millions of people out of work in the Depression. You could ride the rails. You could just disappear."

Cliff Bedell, who currently resides on the old Johnson farm, theorizes that perhaps it was not Albin who was the perpetrator but his brothers. "He may have argued with his brothers, and they may have committed this violence and buried Albin somewhere," said Bedell.

Shelter for battered women to open in Isanti County

Note: This story won first place in the Minnesota Newspaper Association annual contest in 2008 in the Best Social Feature category.

$200,000 grant from United Way makes Black Dog Hill Shelter possible.

by Tesha M. Christensen

STAR Assistant Editor

A shelter for battered women will soon open up in east central Minnesota.

It is for women like Teena Carson, who faced physical and emotional abuse at the hands of the man she loved. When she did leave, he stalked her and their two children and threatened to kill her.

The shelter is for women like Penny Peters, whose ex-boyfriend drove his truck into her Rush City home one night and then stabbed her six times.

It is for women like Carol Folsom's sister, Barb, who was murdered in Mora by her boyfriend on June 8, 1996.

It is for these women and others who until now have had to leave their homes, their jobs, their family and their friends for shelters in the Twin Cities area.

Because of the distance involved, neither Carson nor Peters nor Folsom's sister went to a shelter.

If she had left the night her ex threatened to show up at her house and kill her, Carson thinks she might have been able to sleep.

Peters thinks she might not have felt so afraid.

Folsom wonders if her sister might have lived.

IS A RURAL SHELTER NEEDED?

Some question whether a shelter is needed in the rural area.

Dave Ellis of the Twin Cities United Way knows that it is. He believes that the reason so many instances of domestic violence aren't reported locally is because of the lack of resources for women in Isanti and Chisago counties.

"I can't imagine what it would be like to move everything into the Twin Cities," observed Ellis.

"The lack of a local shelter means women are forced to choose between staying with an abuser or leaving home," pointed out The Refuge Board Chair and Isanti County Commissioner Susan Morris during a special ceremony at the Black Dog Hill Shelter on Friday, July 18, 2008.

A report in 1991 by the Minnesota Center Against Violence and Abuse pinpointed the need for a shelter in this region.

In fact, according to The Refuge, which serves Isanti, Chisago and Kanabec counties, there were 36 families that could have benefited from a shelter in the area in 2007.

Because of the need, the United Way has made a donation to The Refuge. The shelter will receive $100,000 to add onto to the three-bedroom farmhouse and another $100,000 for program costs. This won't pay for everything, and The Refuge is embarking on a fundraising campaign to come up with the rest. Prior to this donation, The Refuge had been receiving about $15,000 a year from United Way.

The size of the $200,000 donation to one organization in Isanti County is unprecedented, pointed out Ellis, but is proof of the United Way's commitment to decreasing domestic violence in order to achieve family stability.

"United Way is proud to be a part of this," said Ellis.

"The mission of the United Way is to unite caring people to build a stronger community every day," said Frank Forsberg on behalf of the Twin Cities United Way Board. "I can't think of a better example of caring people."

THE BLACK DOG SHELTER

You could say that the shelter was inspired by Oprah.

After watching her show on domestic violence two women (who wish to remain anonymous) took her challenge to heart. They would do what they could to stop domestic violence.

They decided to donate their second house, an immaculately-kept farmhouse with 10 acres, for use as a shelter. A quick Internet search revealed that the local service for those in abusive situations was The Refuge. A call was placed and the offer made.

From the board's point of view, the donation came out of nowhere.

It took the board several months to decide whether to accept it or not, knowing this would double The Refuge budget. While staff had dreamed about having a shelter, it was in the future, not within the next year.

As the board hesitated, they began researching possible grants. They learned they couldn't get the grants without having the property, but they didn't want to accept the property without having a grant, recalled former board chair and Chisago County Commissioner Lynn Schultz.

The board finally decided to take a leap of faith. "It looks like it is meant to be," said Schultz.

With the acceptance of the farmhouse came the donation from United Way.

The shelter will open later this year, following an expansion of additional rooms and office space. When it is complete, the shelter will have room to house 15 women and children. Staff will monitor the shelter 24 hours a day. Advocates will help residents set goals and find jobs, go back to school and figure out how to live on a fixed income. Services will be free of charge, and there will be no limit on the length of time women can stay.

A support group for women affected by physical violence will be offered. A youth advocate will work with children and help them develop a safety plan in case they are ever in a dangerous situation again.

"This is an incredibly exciting time for the Refuge," said Karelis.

"We believe this to be a tranquil, peaceful place that women and children can come to relax. They can rejuvenate and rebuild their lives."

Their stories

TEENA'S STORY

"Many people say 'Get out and get safe' as if it were that easy," said Teena Carson.

"It truly would have been a valuable resource to have in Chisago County at the time," said Carson.

"He sounded so desperate, and I knew he had nothing to lose. I was so afraid it hurt to breathe. "

Too many times people turn away from those who have suffered from domestic abuse, noted Carson. Instead, these women who have such deep self-hatred and suffer humiliation need to hear a few kind words. "I'm so sorry you have had such a bad experience."

She no longer has the husband and the home with the white picket fence and 2.5 kids. But she's flying high because she's found her voice again. She's found herself.

"I can't even begin to explain what a valuable resource The Refuge has been," said Carson.

"When my friends and family had walked away because they were overwhelmed by the situation, Shellene Johnson was there. Without Shellene I would have stayed a victim and would not have become a survivor."

PENNY'S STORY

Penny Peters spent 13 years of her life with her abuser. "Statistics say it takes seven times to leave," she pointed out. Over the course of time that it takes, friends and family get tired of hearing, "I really mean it this time. I'm leaving."

"They don't believe you any more and they get tired of bailing you out every time you call, so you stop talking to them," said Peters.

It was when she went to The Refuge and spoke to a staff member who had been in her shoes that Peters was finally able to stop the pattern of violence. "That made all the difference to me," said Peters.

At The Refuge, Shaleen offered to take Peters' pets until she was back on her feet. Fearing for her pets had stopped Peters from leaving before, because her ex-boyfriend threatened to harm them if she did leave.

The Refuge "saved my life," said Peters.

"Now I have the chance to be happy again," she noted.

CAROL'S STORY

Twelve years, one month and 12 days ago, Carol Folsom was returning rom a baseball game when she learned that her sister had been gunned down in cold blood along with a friend, by her ex. He then turned the gun on himself, making it a double murder/suicide.

"You feel like screaming and yelling and crying and hitting," said Folsom, "but there is nothing you can do for the loved one we have lost."

People told her the pain would go away eventually. It hasn't. It may scab over, but it always getting bumped and bleeds again, she said.

Folson offered this advice to people trying to decide whether to leave someone. "The right time to bring change in your life is when you begin to die to keep something in your life," she advised.

THE REFUGE

• Helps 1,200 new victims a year

• Makes over 5,500 contacts with victims a year

• Offers safe houses for short stays of up to 72 hours

• Sees that kids are involved in 3/4th of the cases

• Teaches classes at Ogilvie High School, Mora High School and Cambridge-Isanti High School

• Spends $280,000 a year on existing programs

• Helps victims through the court process (explaining services and how the process will go)

• Has six staff members

• Directed by Roxie Karelis

THE NEW SHELTER WILL

•Total 2,800-square-feet after the expansion

• House up to 15 women and children

• Be available free of charge

• Provide space for pets

WHY BLACK DOG HILL?

•Dudley, a black dog, used to live at the farm with the last two owners. The farm was named after him in 2000.

REUNITED: Same face on two people

Adopted daughter finds birth mother after 21 years.

NOTE: This story was printed in the STAR newspaper in 2006. I earned Best Feature Story from the Minnesota Newspaper Association later that year.

by Tesha M. Christensen

STAR Assistant Editor

Every spring since she gave birth to a baby girl on St. Patrick’s Day and then gave her up for adoption, Cindy Reisen’s thoughts have turned towards her daughter.

This year, for the first time ever, Cindy was able to wish that little girl, now age 22, a jubilant happy birthday.

Because last year, on Mother’s Day weekend, the two women reconnected.

Separate lives

One year ago, Cindy treated her 15-year-old son to a special evening out on St. Patrick’s Day. North Branch residents, the duo struck east for Cambridge to spend their evening at the Hardy Center listening to Celtic singer Katie McMahon. As the music washed over Cindy, so did memories of the St. Patrick’s Day 21 years earlier when she’d given birth to a daughter she named Anne Marie.

Cindy herself had been a 21-year-old art student when she got into trouble. After dating her boyfriend Kim just a three months, she found herself pregnant. A staunch pro-life advocate, abortion was never an option. Yet, she didn’t know if she and Kim could make it married with a baby.

So she made one of the most difficult decisions of her life, just as her mother before had done. She chose to give her baby up for adoption.

As she explained it in a letter she wrote to the baby shortly after birth, “When I was pregnant with you, I knew I wasn’t emotionally ready for motherhood. I felt you would be lacking so many important things, and that I wouldn’t be an adequate mother.

“That is why your father and I chose to give you up for adoption. So you could be given the same chance I was: to grow up in a stable home with both a mom and a dad, and a secure future.”

She never held her baby in the hospital, instead leaving her care up to the nurses. She was too afraid that once she did, she’d never let go.

After that, whenever Cindy smelled the scent of hyacinths, she was transported back to that hospital room and thoughts of the beautiful, tiny child she gave up weighed heavily upon her mind. She had no idea where the girl was living or if she was still alive.

March 17, 2005, is a day Cindy had long looked forward to. It was the day her baby girl could officially begin looking for her.

At intermission of the Katie McMahon concert, Cindy passed McMahon’s husband a note. “Twenty-one years ago I gave my baby girl Anne Marie up for adoption. Today’s the day she becomes legal and can start searching for me if she wants to. Would you play us a song?”

Shortly after coming back from the break, the lights on stage dimmed, and McMahon gently begin strumming her harp strings. She dedicated the next song to a very strong mother and her daughter Anne Marie.

As the music of “Danny Boy” filled the hall, Cindy wept.

Water under the bridge

Life had never lived up to the perfect dream she’d pictured when young. So much water has gone under the bridge, according to Cindy. Four years after Anne Marie’s birth, Cindy and Kim did marry. It was a good Catholic honeymoon, and nine months later, Cindy gave birth to their second child, a son they named Cody. This time they were ready to raise a child. At least Cindy was.

Kim struggled with manic depression, and although she tried very hard, Cindy couldn’t fix him.

She could do something, though. She could warn her daughter.

The second letter

Renamed Katherine Marie by her adoptive parents Tom Mumaw and Deb Carpentier, Katie was 17 when the second letter arrived via Catholic Charities. She was at her dad’s house when strangely her mother and older sister Sarah showed up. They excitedly handed her the letter, and she begin to read.

“Dearest Daughter Anne Marie,

“It’s so hard to comprehend that nearly 16 years have passed since you were born. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought of or prayed for you. I’ve wondered about your childhood – was it as blessed and happy as mine?”

After talking about what the interim years had brought about in her life and encouraging Anne Marie to listen to her parents, Cindy laid out her family’s health history. “The reason for all this background is this: I want you to be on the lookout. Manic depression and bi-polar disorder can be inherited, but don’t freak out! Just do a little research and see if any of the stuff applies to you.”

Katie could finally point to a cause for her own manic depression diagnosis. She wasn’t just a screw-up. The chemical imbalance was passed through her genes and could be treated. “That was a nice thing to know,” Katie said.

Three other things stood out for her in the letter. She had a full-blooded brother, her birth mother had also performed in a show choir, and her birth mother hoped that one day Katie would gcome looking for her.

Katie’s childhood

The adoption of their second child, Katie, completed the Mumaw family. As Cindy had hoped, Katie grew up without lacking anything. She lived on a farm during her earliest years, learning how to ride horses. At age four, her parents divorced, but the girls remained close with both their mother and father, who remarried, adding two step-siblings to the family.

At age six or seven while she and her sister Sarah were hunting around in her mother’s closet for Christmas presents, they found the letters their birth parents had sent. At first Katie figured their mother had been adopted, but her wiser older sister quickly discerned it was the two of them who had been.

Their mother confirmed the news, stressing that while she hadn’t given birth to them, she’d picked them to be her daughters. Katie grew up believing that giving a baby up is the most unselfish thing a mother can do. As the adoption creed hanging in their home said, “Not flesh of my flesh, nor bone of my bone, but still miraculously my own. Never forget for a single minute: You didn't grow under my heart, but in it.” (The wall hanging had been fashioned by Cindy and given to her daughter’s parents.)

While she accepted her parents as her parents and loved them, Katie still had nagging questions. She was determined to someday find her birth parents.

No contact order

After sending the second letter, Cindy was asked by Catholic Charities whether her letter could be used as a teaching tool for other birth parents. Catholic Charities staff appreciated how Cindy reconnected without being pushy, and how she shared important family health history. Cindy reminded them that the letter was actually her daughter’s, and the choice was hers.

They also gave Cindy some disheartening news. She was told not to try to contact her daughter again.

Cindy honored what she thought was the request of her daughter’s parents, and she stepped back, now fearing more than ever that the girl she gave birth to would never come searching for her. (Katie’s mother and father have since said they never gave the adoption agency that message for Cindy.) She figured the silence meant one of three things: the girl was so angry that her mother had given her up she never wanted to talk to her; her parents were having a difficult time with the teenager and thought it best if another parent figure stayed away; or, she was dead.

Although Kim would never talk about their firstborn with her, Cindy’s friend since elementary school, Serena Allred, would speculate with her about the person Anne Marie could have grown up as. Cindy joked, “Who knows? Maybe she’s Miss Wisconsin.”

A daughter’s search begins

One year before the records were opened, Katie attempted to find her birth mother without them. She knew her birth mother had graduated from the University of Wisconsin - Eau Claire. She knew her major was art design. Maybe, just maybe, by paging through the yearbooks she could find a face that looked like hers. One teacher pointed out a face, but Katie shrugged off the idea because the woman’s hair was wavy. If she’d looked closer she might have seen familiar freckles and the same round cheeks, and considered the wave was caused by a perm.

Instead she called a couple of people who had graduated around the time her birth mother did, but no one recalled a classmate being pregnant.

When her 21st birthday rolled around, Katie had her paperwork ready and mailed it in to Catholic Charities in Madison, Wis. The woman who usually handled things was out on vacation, so Katie waited.

She received her health information, and found a name the adoption agency had neglected to white out: Cindy.

After 21 years, Katie didn’t want to wait any longer. “Catholic Charities was taking too long, and I was becoming impatient,” she said.

Now armed with the first name, Katie returned to Eau Claire to search the yearbooks once more. She found two Cindys in the art program that year. Hand shaking, she called the first one. The woman didn’t know what she was talking about, but wished her well.

That left Cindy Barton. An Internet search of the name came up empty. But there were 350 pages of Bartons just in Wisconsin. It was overwhelming, but Katie wasn’t ready to quit. She randomly called one of the first Bartons listed. “Do you know a Cindy Barton?” Katie asked.

“Yeah,” replied the man who answered the phone. “She’s my niece.”

He explained that while he didn’t have Cindy’s phone number because she’d recently moved, he did have the number of her mother, Evelyn.

Katie told herself not to get too excited as she dialed Evelyn’s number.

Wisely recognizing that not everyone in the family might have known Cindy had a baby and gave her up for adoption, Katie sidestepped the issue. “Hello, I’m looking for my birth mother and I think your daughter Cindy might have known her in college,” Katie said.

The gasp that greeted her inquiry gave it away.

But before giving out Cindy’s telephone number, Evelyn had a few more questions. “My name was Anne Marie at birth, and I was born St. Patrick’s Day, March 17, 1984,” Katie responded.

The only indication Katie got that she was on the right track was the telephone number for Cindy Reisen.

Her hands were still shaking as she dialed the number.

A regular day

Cindy was bustling around her home that Sunday night at around 8 p.m., cleaning in anticipation of her own mother’s visit the next week on Mother’s Day. She answered the phone in mid-task.

“Oh my gosh!”

A cheery voice greeted Katie when the phone rang. Katie asked for Cindy, and after being assured she’d reached the right person, she launched into her script.

“This may sound odd, but I’m looking for my birth mother,” she said.

“Oh, my God,” was the response.

“She sounded like all the air had been knocked out of her,” Katie recalled.

As she struggled for composure, Cindy thought fast. She needed to make sure this wasn’t someone playing a trick on her.

“When? Where?” she questioned.

“St. Patrick’s Day, 1984 in Eau Claire, Wis. You named me Anne Marie,” Katie answered.

Both began screaming and laughing as they realized the years of wondering were over and they’d found one another. Katie danced around her friend’s house, briefly handing the phone to him before she settled down. Cindy called for Cody. “Your sister’s on the phone,” she yelled. He, too, was amazed and delighted. Brimming with the good news, Katie hung up long enough to call her mother, father and sister to share the news with them. Cindy told her fiance, Ed, “My daughter called me!” Her elated mother called to find out about her first grandchild.

Then Katie called Cindy back. Questions bottled up for 21 years burst forth. What do you look like? Where do you live? What do you do? What do you enjoy?

They discovered they’ve both got the “gift of gab,” as Katie’s father calls it. They both performed in show choirs in high school; in fact, Katie performed in Altoona, Wis. the town Cindy grew up in. And when she won the Miss LaCrosse title in 2004, it was her voice that earned top marks in the competition. Katie grew up in LaCrosse, and as a baby her father worked in a building across the street from one Cindy was in frequently. She likely observed Katie’s mother pushing Katie in a stroller as she walked down the street. After finding her own birth mother and half-siblings, Cindy discovered several of her relatives also live in LaCrosse. Coincidences like that are many when they compare the places they’ve been and the things they’ve done. They came within a step or two of each other so many times.

That first conversation was “totally surreal,” described Katie.

Holding her daugher for the first time

After chatting for “forever”, the two agreed to meet the next weekend. Cindy stressed that Sunday wouldn’t work because she wanted Katie to spend Mother’s Day with her mother. Katie felt the same desire, so they arranged to meet Saturday.

As she neared the Highway 95 exit in North Branch all Katie could say was “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh.”

“I was just freaking out,” she recalled. She’d chosen to make the trip up from LaCrosse herself, even though others had offered to accompany her. “I wanted to have my moment with Cindy before I let other people into it,” Katie explained.

She was so excited, but so nervous at the same time.

She got to the house early, and Cody – her full-blooded little brother – knocked on the door. “We stood there,” Katie recalled. She was surprised by how tall he is, 5’ 10”, when she’s so much shorter at 5’ 4”.

Then Cindy was there, and she grabbed the face of her firstborn and just held her for the first time.

They spent the afternoon looking through pictures. It didn’t take long to discover the family resemblance. Comparing pictures of a young Cindy to childhood photos of Katie and current shots was almost eery because they look identical. They’ve both got the same freckles bridging their noses. They’ve both got the same rosy cheeks and straight hair.

“I was just blown away,” said Katie.

For both women, this was the first time either had ever found someone who looked so like them. While Cindy discovered eight half-siblings later in life, none resemble her so entirely, although there are similarities both in look and action. “All my life, I’ve never seen someone who looks so much like me,” said Cindy. From Katie’s viewpoint, while people often told her she resembled her parents or sister, she never saw it in her looks. But the question she’d been asked since grade school of whether she looked like her mother or her father was answered when she met Cindy.

And for the first time in her life, she was suddenly older than a sibling. “It was a really weird feeling,” Katie said. But as soon as she saw Cody she felt protective of him. “You mess with Cody, you mess with me,” Katie said.

At the end of the day, Katie drove back home, and she spent Mother’s Day with her mother. The day with Cindy had answered at least one important question. She’d always worried that when she found her birth mother she’d suddenly feel more connected to her than the family she grew up with – that she’d feel more complete. She was afraid of that feeling and the guilt she’d then be engulfed by. But after meeting Cindy, Katie realized, “Your parents are definitely who raised you.”

Cindy also knows that to be true, and she’s not looking to replace Katie’s adoptive mother. She’s just glad to be part of her life.

“When you say ‘goodbye’ it’s supposed to be forever,” noted Cindy. “I have no legal claim to her.”

But finding her Anne Marie, her Katie, has “brought a whole new spark into life.”

Reflecting on the busy year since finding her birth mother, Katie said she still doesn’t quite believe it. “I was always preparing myself to be turned away. No matter how excited I got because of Cindy’s letters. … people said, ‘Don’t get your hopes up. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Katie is still trying to figure out the future and how Cindy and Cody – and even Kim, who she met shortly after meeting Cindy – fit into her life. Cindy and Katie talk about once a week, and have visited back and forth. “I feel like Cindy is a good friend,” she remarked. Yet there’s also more.

Katie feels like she’s known Cindy and Cody forever. “There is this connection that is there,” she observed. She looks forward to “crazy holidays and big weddings.”

“It’s been a wild ride,” remarked Cindy. “But it’s been fun.”

The puzzle pieces have come together for both woman.

Miracles happen

This St. Patrick’s Day, Cindy recalls the bit of Irish luck she got last year from singer Katie McMahon, whom she talked to after the show in Cambridge. She thanked McMahon by email shortly after hearing from her daughter. “I just wanted to thank you for wishing us all the good Irish luck – it really works! She’s coming up Saturday to visit us – after 21 years I will finally be able to hold my daughter in my arms. They kept her middle name as Marie, but you know what they changed her first name to? KATIE! Thanks again.

“Miracles happen when God connects the dots.”

Artist finds peace in creating something beautiful

Lisa Money of Cambridge etches glass, embroiders and custom paints wood crafts

Cambridge artist Lisa Money wants to bring something beautiful into people’s homes.

She etches glassware, vases, mirrors, vehicle windows and anything else she’s asked to do. A common gift item is a set of matching champagne flutes. She’s even created trophies for a boat parade.

“I’ve always been creative,” explained Money. “It’s who I am and what I enjoy doing.”

She inspired by things she comes across in every day life, particularly the natural setting around her home. In the warm weather, she can be found sitting on her deck, hard at work.

“To me, it’s relaxing,” Money explained. “This is my time. It’s what I do for me.”

Nature finds its way into her one-of-a-kind artwork, as well. Eagles and roses are the most popular items she etches, and other wildlife next on the list. She has over 3,000 patterns in stock. If a customer can’t find something she likes, Money is happy to fashion something unique. She has taken people and pets from photographs and transferred them to glass. In addition to fashioning new pieces, Money has repaired antiques, such as a Hoosier cabinet that needed new panes.

Her hobby began with a one-hour Community Education class when she was 16. Thirty years later she’s still enamoured of the work, and strives to make each item a piece of art.

Etching requires a lot of prep work. It typically takes Money longer to draw up a design than it does to actually etch it. “I do a lot of retrofitting,” she explained.

She prides herself on crisp edges, which are difficult to achieve. Without a tight seal between the pattern on contact paper and the glass, the acid will seep through, ruining the project.

Her materials come from a variety of sources. Money scours discount stores and garage sales for glass. “If I can get it cheap, I can sell it cheap,” Money explained. Other times, customers provide the material. She hasn’t found that any one glass works better than another; however, she can’t etch Corningware or other bakewear. “The acid won’t take to the bakewear,” she explained.

Twice each year, Money carefully packs up her artwork to sell at craft fairs, which make up the bulk of her business. Word-of-mouth is also an important mechanism for sales. Recently, she’s added a web site (http://home.earthlink.net/~wolf36/yourglassormine) and Facebook page (Your Glass or Mine). After being laid off, Money hopes to increase the amount of work she does.

Towards that end, she recently purchased an embroidery machine and intends to add that skill to her repertoire.

CUSTOM PAINTED WOOD CRAFTS

Another hobby also dates back to her high school years. As a teen, Money loved woodshop. Today, she’s got her own shop set up in a detached garage.

When she was given a bird feeder, Money thought, “I can make these.” So she did. Next she fashioned a pileated woodpecker out of a scrap piece of lumber. Money completes the whole project herself. She starts with a piece of wood, cuts it, sands it down and then paints it.

She finds much of her raw material at Menards, taking advantage of sale prices. As with her glass etching, she passes the savings onto her customers.

Blue Jays and pileated woodpeckers are the hottest items at craft shows, as are her signs.

“I paint whatever happens to come to mind,” Money said. She’s happy to paint whatever slogan a customer asks for. Lighter stains tend to be more popular, but she works with a variety of colors.

“Time flies when you’re having rum” is one of her favorite sayings. Other popular ones are: “Because I said so,” “Happily Ever After,” and “When in Doubt, Look Up.” At a craft fair one day, a woman came up to Money and fell in love with a sign that said “You Are My Sunshine.” She told Money, “My husband used to tell me that all the time when he was alive.”

“[I] brought joy to her just with a saying. It’s neat that I can do that,” Money observed. Other people enjoy having their own “famous sayings” in paint, making them permanent.

When she paints, Money uses little brushes in order to get clean edges. She keeps a jar of Q-tips handy to clean up any mistakes. “It takes a long time. That’s okay, though,” she stated. She knows that art can’t be hurried.

To contact Money, email wolf36@earthlink.net or call (763) 274-4630.

Park development on horizon

Isanti County approves five-year park plan

After years of merely purchasing land, the Isanti County Parks Department is ready add trails, playgrounds and picnic shelters.

Parks Director Barry Wendorf presented a five-year plan to the county board on Tuesday night, March 16, 2010 detailing future development.

In 2010, the parks board hopes to significantly improve two parks. The work is dependent upon receiving grants, however.

At Vesgund Family County Park, the plan is to add a 1,400-foot entrance road and parking lot at a cost of $80,000; trails ($60,000); picnic shelter ($42,000); fishing pier ($25,000); picnic tables, benches and grills ($10,000); signs, trees and landscaping ($10,000); and solar lighting ($28,000). If the county doesn’t receive a grant, it will only complete the road and part of the trail system, noted Wendorf.

At Anderson County Park, the county’s newest park, the goal is to add three boardwalks ($17,700), a road to the parking area ($8,500), trail gates ($4,500), and canoe access ($1,500). If a grant isn’t awarded, only one boardwalk will be constructed and the canoe access will be upgraded, said Wendorf.

Additionally, the county will spend $7,800 on signs.

Improvements from 2010 to 2014 will total $40,000 each year.

In 2011, the park department intends to purchase a tractor/loader to be used to dig fire breaks, maintain trails, upgrade parking lots and remove snow. Wendorf also hopes to purchase a snowmobile/trail groomer to maintain cross-country ski trails. Additionally, the county’s oldest park, Wayside, is “in desperate need of renovations,” said Wendorf. “The concrete picnic tables are falling apart,” he noted, as well as the benches. Landscaping is also needed.

Improving the parking lot at Wayside is slated for 2012. Also that year, the park board hopes to purchase playground equipment – a rock climbing wall, slide and swing – at Becklin park. Plumbing will be added at the maintenance building at Springvale park, and electricity extended to the shelter at Becklin park. If the Vesgund park fishing pier is not included in the 2010 grant, it will be added in 2012 and the playground equipment scratched.

Viewing platforms at Dalbo and Anderson parks will be added in 2013. Trails will be improved and a parking lot added at Becklin. The biggest cost that year, estimated at $20,000, will be spent on an interpretive shelter at Springvale, the county’s most well-used park, according to Wendorf.

More work will be done at Springvale County Park in 2014. The bituminous trail that currently dead-ends will be extended so that it loops a half-mile. Playground equipment will be added at Anderson park. However, if the picnic shelter at Vesgund park isn’t part of this year’s grant, the trail and the playground will wait so the picnic shelter can be built.

The county board approved the five-year plan as presented. Commissioner George Larson pointed out that the plan could change depending on necessity. “Barry has done a nice job on this,” he said.

DONATE TREES, OTHER ITEMS

Isanti County offers two programs for people who want to make donations in memory or in honor of someone special or for other reasons.

According to Wendorff, people may select a mature native tree, help select the planting site and take part in a tree planting.

Or, people may purchase items like grills and benches. Plaques will be placed on both the items and near the trees honoring the donors.

For more on the program and the items needed by Isanti County parks, check the county web site at http://www.co.isanti.mn.us/parksrechome.

Another way for people to get involved is to volunteer at the parks. Last year, folks logged 120 hours at Anderson park through the Friends of Anderson Park program.

Wendorf noted that he would like to see Friends groups established for all the county parks.

MORE ABOUT PARK SYSTEM

Isanti County’s five parks have cost just under $2.1 million to establish. Part of that has been paid by grants, and part by local taxpayers.

Two parks – Dalbo and Wayside – were free. Both came to the county through the tax forfeiture process in the 1950s. A 108-section of Springvale park was also tax-forfeited land. The cost of others was offset by large donations from families who earned naming rights.

The number of acres that the county oversees in its parks is currently 735. Springvale is the largest at 211, followed by Anderson at 174, Becklin at 150, Wayside and Vesgund at 80 a piece and Dalbo at 40.

WHAT CAN YOU FIND NOW AT COUNTY PARKS?

Dalbo County Park

• Two miles of multi-use trails

• Wetland boardwalks

• Picnic table/shelter

• Interpretive sign/map kiosk

Springvale County Park

• Parking lot

• Paved trail to observation point (one-quarter mile)

• Five miles of multi-use trails

• Native plan restoration

• Portable restroom

• Groomed cross-country ski trail

• Picnic table/shelter

• Mountain bike trail (1/2 mile)

Wayside Prairie County Park

• Picnic shelter, tables and grills

• Two miles of multi-use trails

• Native plant demonstration garden

• Wetland boardwalks

• Prairie restoration project

• Portable restroom

Vesgund County Park

(Will open in 2010)

• Two miles of multi-use trails

• Fishing dock

• Bog walk and scenic overlooks

• Canoe access

• Portable restroom

• Picnic shelter

Becklin Homestead Park/WMA

• Three miles of multi-use trails (no horses)

• Canoe and small boat launch area

• Picnic tables, grills and shelter

• River/bird observation platform

• Areas reserved for hunting by disabled hunters (during which time the park is closed)

• Interpretive sign

• Portable restroom

Irving and John Anderson County Park

(Will open in 2010)

• Picnic shelter

• Three miles of multi-use trails

• Three parking areas

• Canoe launch

• Grills and benches

• Interpretive sign