The journey that Hugh and I took to Sweden began with this photogragh (left). For my grandma, many of the stories of her life centered around one heroine, her mother, Anna, who immigrated from Sweden to a small town across the river from our hometown, Burlington, Iowa, when she was a teenager. My grandma also had some dim memories of Anna's mother, Ulrika, who later joined her daughter and lived with her until she died in 1901.
Where were they from in Sweden? I asked my grandma. Like so many immigrants of her generation, she didn't have a clue. But she did have one photograph from her mother, on which she had at some point written "Mother's church and school."
In 1994, I received some invaluable help from a parishioner at the church I was serving at the time, who sent a copy of the photo to her brother, a historian in central southern Sweden. He brought the photo to a meeting of pastors, and one recognized the picture as his parish church in Torpa. From there, I was able to find records on the family.
I was looking forward to taking a photo of Torpa church from exactly the same perspective as this photo, probably from the 1880s. But as you can see (below), trees have significantly changed the view from the road. I had to walk down the road (below left) and take my picture from there.
Like so many churches in Sweden, some parts of the Torpa church date to the 12th century. The statue of St. Olav (left) is from the medieval church, but the painted ceiling decoration (below) is only from the 1890s.
This picture was taken from the top of a hill, the site of Lille Hägnen, a small house where Ulrika lived when she was older. The house is part of Hägnen farm; looking across the water is Hagen, the farm where Anna likely grew up. These names demonstrate a problem in on-the-ground geneaology, the many place names that are very similar and very close to one another.
