LilMtnCbn
10-21-2004, 06:08 AM
http://www.murraycountynews.net/default.asp?storyid=18192&secid=101
Chandler woman has ties to State Orphanage in Owatonna
October 20, 2004
Agnes Johnson today, in the front room of her rural Chandler farm home where
she continues to make her home. "It wasn't the most ideal place, yet it gave
many a home, food and clothing, an education and later a church and Sunday
School.
By JoAnn Biren
Have you ever wondered how one person can face adversity without placing blame
while another has a reason for everything negative they do; laying blame helter
skelter?
Agnes Johnson, rural Chandler is a person who looks at everything in her life
as a gift from God. She gives thanks for the life she has and for those
responsible for giving her that life. Johnson started her early years of life
as an orphan in the orphanage at Owatonna.
Johnson's birth mother wasn't able to care for her. She doesn't know why. In
those days, Johnson said, when a person was put up for adoption, records were
closed and it was difficult to ever find out any information.
She has memories of her early years in the orphanage. "I remember all of us sat
in chairs around this shiny floor," she said. "I think that is where we had our
programs. The floor was so shiny! We were never allowed to walk on that floor.
The older kids are the ones who kept it shiny, on their hands and knees with
rags."
More memories: "They (the orphanage) also owned farm land," Johnson said. "They
had a dairy as well as a big vegetable garden and lots of fruit trees.
"The older girls got to help care for the babies in the nursery.
"Everyone, from little on up had to help keep everything clean and spotless and
also help with the dairy and garden.
"The children were cared for my matrons. Some were kind and some mean, but they
had a big job to try to keep so many of us in line.
"We were all told not to cry, as they tried to strip you of all your emotions
and they didn't have time to deal with them.
"It wasn't the most ideal place, yet it gave many a home, food and clothing, an
education and later a church and Sunday School.
"You had to leave when you were 18, so many were just on their own, and had no
family to relate to."
Another memory Johnson has is of the postman at the orphanage. "I remember
going around with him; helping him deliver the mail."
Johnson recalls a vivid memory of when she was around five and one-half years
old. "I was placed with a family from Wilder. I think they planned on adopting
me," she said. "It just didn't work out."
The reasons today are unclear, but Johnson thinks the mother was "too nervous."
The two of them didn't seem to hit it off. She does remember the foster father
with fondness though.
She spent two years in Wilder. Although the memories are hazy she thinks it was
social services that contacted the people she would soon call mother and dad,
Roberta and Ed Dahlquist. "I remember they picked me up and brought me back
here," she said, gesturing around her. "Back here," was where she stayed,
adopted by loving parents who were thrilled to have a daughter in their home.
"I was spoiled rotten," she said with a smile, adding, "spiled rotten on love.
"They were so good to me. I remember when I first came, I thought, 'I"ll stay
one week and then I'll go back'," she said. "Back where? I didn't know."
After that first week though, Johnson felt like she had "come home."
"I feel so blessed to have had such a good home," she said of the Dahlquist
family.
Did she ever try to seek her birth parents? "My daughter wanted me to," Johnson
recalled. "I never wanted to. I could never have done anything to hurt my
parents; to make them feel bad in anyway," she said.
About 14 years ago, Johnson found out she had a half sister. "She didn't know
about me," she said. She made the trip to California to visit with her.
She does know that her birth mother had tried to find her. "She tried to
inquire about me, but they wouldn't tell her anything," Johnson said recently
from her farm home outside of Chandler. She found out about her mother, after
her mother's death. She doesn't dwell on it. It's a part of her life. A life
she considers to have been richly rewarded from God. "She tried to inquire
about me, but they wouldn't tell her anything," Johnson said recently from her
farm home outside of Chandler. She found out about her mother, after her
mother's death. She doesn't dwell on it. It's a part of her life. A life she
considers to have been richly rewarded from God.
Johnson went to school in Chandler and so did Gordon Johnson. They were married
in 1951, after he returned from the service. "He felt a calling to the
ministry," Johnson explained. He served a number of churches in his 27 and
one-half years in the ministry. After retirement, the couple came back to the
Dahlquist farm. In May, 2003, Gordon Johnson passed away.
During their marriage, they were blessed with nine children, six boys and three
girls. They now have 20 grandchildren. "You know what it's like when you're in
high school. The conversations you have with your girl friends. I can remember
saying that if I couldn't have children, I would like to adopt," Johnson
recalled with a smile. "I was so strong for adoption."
That never happened. Johnson gave birth to all nine of the Johnson children,
much to the delight of her parents. "My mother loved to sew and cook. She was
so happy to have all these grandchildren," Johnson said.
Another happy memory from the days when she was a youngster and didn't know who
to call Mother or Father. As a toddler, living in Wilder, a sister of her
foster mother lived across the road. Her name was Stella. Johnson loved Stella.
She gave her unconditional love.
Stella took care of her father and Johnson called him,"Grandpa."
"I loved sitting on grandpa's lap," she said. She recalls the visits with
Stella and her grandfather with fondness. "I just loved Stella," she said
matter of factly.
"I think that was my first experience with a loving person in a loving
relationship." Five and one-half years old and the first time she ever realized
what it meant to be loved for the little girl she was. And yet, Johnson doesn't
look with sadness or a jaded eye at her past. She long ago accepted it as a
matter of course and joyously recognized that family is important. As a seven
year old child she found her family with Ed and Roberta Dahlquist.
There is more to the tale of Agnes Johnson and Stella. Several years later,
when her husband was a minister in Adrian and Magnolia Johnson said he told
her, "'Let's go visit the farm (in Wilder)'." I remember thinking then, "If
they didn't want me then, why would they want to see me now," she said.
"I knocked on the door and a lady answered. She said, 'Don't tell me, it's
Agnes'!"
"It was Stella!"
"She said, 'I've been praying all these years to see you again'." There were
more visits after that, visits that gave Johnson the opportunity to share her
feelings with Stella. "She was the first person I loved," she reiterated. "I
never hated anyone, but she was the first person I remember feeling love for."
Minnesota State Orphanage in Owatonna>
At the height of the institution located in Owatonna, Minnesota, there were 16
cottages. Each cottage housed about 30 youngsters.
Children were given an education while living as orphans in Owatonna. A
cemetery on the grounds o
f the facility is the final resting place for many young orphans who died while
wards of the state. There are 198 children buried in the cemetery.
The full name of the school was "The Minnesota State Public School for
Dependent and Neglected Children. It was created in 1885 by the governing body
of the state of Minnesota. In it's creation, the school was to be used more of
a stop-gap, a place where children could spend some time before adoption or the
beginning of an indentured contract.
Unlike today, the children became wards of the state and in most cases, all
parental rights were cancelled. Many siblings came to the school together and
were soon separated through adoption.
An indentured contract was an agreement between the state and a family who was
willing to house, feed and educate a child until the age of 18. Conditions,
many youngsters found out, were not always met. Some children were used as
indentured slaves, rather than family.
In 1945 the orphanage was phased out and the name changed to Owatonna State
School. In 1947 it became official, the institution was to house educable
mentally retarded children. In 1970 the school closed its door for the final
time.
-------------------------
A good friend will come and bail you out of jail . . . but, a true friend will
be sitting next to you saying, "Damn . . . that was fun!"
-----Unknown
Chandler woman has ties to State Orphanage in Owatonna
October 20, 2004
Agnes Johnson today, in the front room of her rural Chandler farm home where
she continues to make her home. "It wasn't the most ideal place, yet it gave
many a home, food and clothing, an education and later a church and Sunday
School.
By JoAnn Biren
Have you ever wondered how one person can face adversity without placing blame
while another has a reason for everything negative they do; laying blame helter
skelter?
Agnes Johnson, rural Chandler is a person who looks at everything in her life
as a gift from God. She gives thanks for the life she has and for those
responsible for giving her that life. Johnson started her early years of life
as an orphan in the orphanage at Owatonna.
Johnson's birth mother wasn't able to care for her. She doesn't know why. In
those days, Johnson said, when a person was put up for adoption, records were
closed and it was difficult to ever find out any information.
She has memories of her early years in the orphanage. "I remember all of us sat
in chairs around this shiny floor," she said. "I think that is where we had our
programs. The floor was so shiny! We were never allowed to walk on that floor.
The older kids are the ones who kept it shiny, on their hands and knees with
rags."
More memories: "They (the orphanage) also owned farm land," Johnson said. "They
had a dairy as well as a big vegetable garden and lots of fruit trees.
"The older girls got to help care for the babies in the nursery.
"Everyone, from little on up had to help keep everything clean and spotless and
also help with the dairy and garden.
"The children were cared for my matrons. Some were kind and some mean, but they
had a big job to try to keep so many of us in line.
"We were all told not to cry, as they tried to strip you of all your emotions
and they didn't have time to deal with them.
"It wasn't the most ideal place, yet it gave many a home, food and clothing, an
education and later a church and Sunday School.
"You had to leave when you were 18, so many were just on their own, and had no
family to relate to."
Another memory Johnson has is of the postman at the orphanage. "I remember
going around with him; helping him deliver the mail."
Johnson recalls a vivid memory of when she was around five and one-half years
old. "I was placed with a family from Wilder. I think they planned on adopting
me," she said. "It just didn't work out."
The reasons today are unclear, but Johnson thinks the mother was "too nervous."
The two of them didn't seem to hit it off. She does remember the foster father
with fondness though.
She spent two years in Wilder. Although the memories are hazy she thinks it was
social services that contacted the people she would soon call mother and dad,
Roberta and Ed Dahlquist. "I remember they picked me up and brought me back
here," she said, gesturing around her. "Back here," was where she stayed,
adopted by loving parents who were thrilled to have a daughter in their home.
"I was spoiled rotten," she said with a smile, adding, "spiled rotten on love.
"They were so good to me. I remember when I first came, I thought, 'I"ll stay
one week and then I'll go back'," she said. "Back where? I didn't know."
After that first week though, Johnson felt like she had "come home."
"I feel so blessed to have had such a good home," she said of the Dahlquist
family.
Did she ever try to seek her birth parents? "My daughter wanted me to," Johnson
recalled. "I never wanted to. I could never have done anything to hurt my
parents; to make them feel bad in anyway," she said.
About 14 years ago, Johnson found out she had a half sister. "She didn't know
about me," she said. She made the trip to California to visit with her.
She does know that her birth mother had tried to find her. "She tried to
inquire about me, but they wouldn't tell her anything," Johnson said recently
from her farm home outside of Chandler. She found out about her mother, after
her mother's death. She doesn't dwell on it. It's a part of her life. A life
she considers to have been richly rewarded from God. "She tried to inquire
about me, but they wouldn't tell her anything," Johnson said recently from her
farm home outside of Chandler. She found out about her mother, after her
mother's death. She doesn't dwell on it. It's a part of her life. A life she
considers to have been richly rewarded from God.
Johnson went to school in Chandler and so did Gordon Johnson. They were married
in 1951, after he returned from the service. "He felt a calling to the
ministry," Johnson explained. He served a number of churches in his 27 and
one-half years in the ministry. After retirement, the couple came back to the
Dahlquist farm. In May, 2003, Gordon Johnson passed away.
During their marriage, they were blessed with nine children, six boys and three
girls. They now have 20 grandchildren. "You know what it's like when you're in
high school. The conversations you have with your girl friends. I can remember
saying that if I couldn't have children, I would like to adopt," Johnson
recalled with a smile. "I was so strong for adoption."
That never happened. Johnson gave birth to all nine of the Johnson children,
much to the delight of her parents. "My mother loved to sew and cook. She was
so happy to have all these grandchildren," Johnson said.
Another happy memory from the days when she was a youngster and didn't know who
to call Mother or Father. As a toddler, living in Wilder, a sister of her
foster mother lived across the road. Her name was Stella. Johnson loved Stella.
She gave her unconditional love.
Stella took care of her father and Johnson called him,"Grandpa."
"I loved sitting on grandpa's lap," she said. She recalls the visits with
Stella and her grandfather with fondness. "I just loved Stella," she said
matter of factly.
"I think that was my first experience with a loving person in a loving
relationship." Five and one-half years old and the first time she ever realized
what it meant to be loved for the little girl she was. And yet, Johnson doesn't
look with sadness or a jaded eye at her past. She long ago accepted it as a
matter of course and joyously recognized that family is important. As a seven
year old child she found her family with Ed and Roberta Dahlquist.
There is more to the tale of Agnes Johnson and Stella. Several years later,
when her husband was a minister in Adrian and Magnolia Johnson said he told
her, "'Let's go visit the farm (in Wilder)'." I remember thinking then, "If
they didn't want me then, why would they want to see me now," she said.
"I knocked on the door and a lady answered. She said, 'Don't tell me, it's
Agnes'!"
"It was Stella!"
"She said, 'I've been praying all these years to see you again'." There were
more visits after that, visits that gave Johnson the opportunity to share her
feelings with Stella. "She was the first person I loved," she reiterated. "I
never hated anyone, but she was the first person I remember feeling love for."
Minnesota State Orphanage in Owatonna>
At the height of the institution located in Owatonna, Minnesota, there were 16
cottages. Each cottage housed about 30 youngsters.
Children were given an education while living as orphans in Owatonna. A
cemetery on the grounds o
f the facility is the final resting place for many young orphans who died while
wards of the state. There are 198 children buried in the cemetery.
The full name of the school was "The Minnesota State Public School for
Dependent and Neglected Children. It was created in 1885 by the governing body
of the state of Minnesota. In it's creation, the school was to be used more of
a stop-gap, a place where children could spend some time before adoption or the
beginning of an indentured contract.
Unlike today, the children became wards of the state and in most cases, all
parental rights were cancelled. Many siblings came to the school together and
were soon separated through adoption.
An indentured contract was an agreement between the state and a family who was
willing to house, feed and educate a child until the age of 18. Conditions,
many youngsters found out, were not always met. Some children were used as
indentured slaves, rather than family.
In 1945 the orphanage was phased out and the name changed to Owatonna State
School. In 1947 it became official, the institution was to house educable
mentally retarded children. In 1970 the school closed its door for the final
time.
-------------------------
A good friend will come and bail you out of jail . . . but, a true friend will
be sitting next to you saying, "Damn . . . that was fun!"
-----Unknown
