A lady - a beautiful lady - a totally
beautiful Norwegian lady - a most appreciated lady - and join us for a
few minutes to celebrate this lady’s 91st birthday!
Okay, you’re on board … Step back with me to old Duluth in
the year 1907. Stand with me in the muddy street, helping me decide which
is mud and which is the fresh by-product of the hundreds of horses providing
our transportation. On this bright day, a little girl, Elsie, has been
born to Ivan Kohler Melby’s family.
 Her
growth matched the dynamic growth of Duluth through those exciting years.
Timber, iron ore, shipping and railroads yielded good work and financial
rewards as the century grew.
Ivan was manager of the Carnegie Coal and Fuel docks, then
located on the Duluth harbor west of the present Port Terminal. He and
his 50 employees handled millions of tons of coal which arrived by ship
and rail, fueling the furnaces of America’s western expansion.
Little Elsie’s aunt was married to Elling Seglem, a fisherman
who made Isle Royale home for most of the year. The Seglems made a point
of sharing each summer with one child from the families of each of their
relatives, an event Elsie enjoyed several times as she grew up. Even though
they slept in the fish net shed and learned many aspects of commercial
fishing first hand, it was a glorious way to spend a summer.
Let’s jump to the very end of the rugged point on Isle Royale
which frames Siskiwit Bay - a tiny collection of buildings, homes and fish
shacks. The Seglems and the Rude families share this tiny inlet.
The year is now 1917, it is summer, and young Elsie Melby
is spending the summer here with her relatives. Elling A. Seglem had homesteaded
this location, naming it “Fisherman’s Home” in the last years of the preceding
century.
 PAINTING
BY HARVEY SANDSTROM
“Fisherman’s Home” on Isle Royale was painted by artist Harvey Sandstrom
after regular visits to see Elling Seglem and Sam Rude.
Elling Seglem was a true quiet Norwegian. While his wife,
Alida, enjoyed and nurtured conversation, he was known to be comfortable
tending his nets and rowing his boat with only an occasional word. It was
a very special day for Elsie when her uncle “E.A.” would find time to accompany
the children on exploration trips along the beach, sometimes in company
with her father when he came for a visit. Fishing, however, was Elling’s
business, so it would only happen when the lake was rough to the point
of being unsafe and then only after the nets were repaired. Elsie still
remembers, saying, “Oh, how those few special days were treasured.”
On the end of the point was a spot where the children could
play amongst the rocks and boulders that had been left scattered about
when the glaciers had receded. On one, “E.A.” had chiseled his name, with
three different dates: 1917, 1919 and 1920. On this particular day, little
Elsie asked for the chisel and hammer, laboriously adding her name “Elsie
Melby” to the huge boulder near the end of the point. She still remembers
- in 1998 - the deep satisfaction she enjoyed as she stood back and admired
her handiwork.
Going to Isle Royale shortly after school let out in the
spring was an exciting summer ritual. Elsie remembers the fun of trips
on the steamer America and the many stops it would make as it traveled
along the Minnesota north shore between Duluth, Isle Royale and Thunder
Bay, Ontario.
She would make the trip with either her mother or her father.
She fondly remembers the exceptional food and the friendly crew. It was
quite an event getting ready to get off into one of E. A.’s skiffs. The
America
was 180 feet long and far too big to enter the little harbor at Fisherman’s
Home, but the schedule was well known and the whistle blast announcing
its arrival off the little harbor was a weekly event.
 PAINTING
BY HARVEY SANDSTROM
Elling Seglem chisled his name in the rocks at Fisherman’s Home on Isle
Royale. Young Elsie left her mark, too. After Harvey Sandstrom painted
the scene, Elsie signed the painting.
Salted or iced fish would be hoisted up to the waiting deck
crew and willing hands would accept the young visitors as they were handed
down. The America’s dual role of commerce and transportation was
the heart Lake Superior’s north shore existence. The first road along the
north shore finally reached the border in 1923, but the bridge over the
Pigeon River was not completed for several years.
As part of the summer visit, the children of Fisherman’s
Home became skilled in handling small boats. The danger of the lake and
its many moods were often discussed, and generally understood.
If the weather was nice and the wind almost still, they could
go exploring in one of the many small boats kept in the tiny harbor.
On a particularly beautiful July day Elsie and Rolf Bergeson
set off in a rowboat to explore the wild and rugged shore along the southwest
side of Isle Royale.
Taking a picnic along, they took turns rowing and discussing
the many impressions of sites they were finding along the rocky coast they
moved past. Only as the sky suddenly darkened did they realize that a squall
was approaching. They watched in amazement as the placid lake turned angry
and dangerous in a span of only a few minutes.
“Rolf,” Elsie cried. “Row hard for that little beach!”
As the little boat grated onto the wave-whipped beach, they
both jumped out. “Let’s pull the boat up to safety,” Elsie yelled, grabbing
the gunnel of the little rowboat, as did Rolf. In a moment, the boat was
safely high and dry and they sat down by it to wait for help.
 As
the stormy lake relaxed, the calming waters soon bore a larger boat with
several concerned parents aboard. Seeing the youngsters safe on the sloping
beach with the safely stored boat, the adults heaped many positive compliments
on the young explorers. To have done what she had been trained and advised
to do - “Get off a stormy lake” - earned Elsie a level of respect which
followed her through her entire life.
As she grew older and moved on to a business career that
led to owning a major lumber company in Duluth, Elsie maintained contact
with her relatives and with Isle Royale. Still later, another recognition
was awarded when Elsie was named Norwegian Consul.
While she maintained the Consul office in Duluth, she spent
two years in Norway that included a memorable lunch with King Olaf. She
was advised not to offer to shake hands with the King, unless he offered
his hand first, but as he came up the stairs he reached out to her. She
was almost overwhelmed. Elsie took his hand while staring, she now remembers,
at him in total shock. She was looking, she recalls, not at the king, but
at her father, who had passed away when she was 15 years old. The jaw,
cheeks and expressive eyes - every part of the king’s face - were mirrors
of her father.
This led to the king spending a major part of the luncheon
conversation asking many questions about Elsie’s family and established
a lifelong friendship she still treasures.
Long an avid cheerleader for the Norwegian influence in America,
Elsie is also proud to have been a supporter of the Vesterheim Norwegian
American Museum in Decorah, Iowa, a major repository of the arts and crafts
brought from their homeland by the thousands of Norwegian immigrants to
this country.
So, pause with us now and wish this incredible lady a happy
91st birthday. Join with us as we contemplate the many accomplishments
of her fellow Norwegians in establishing their presence here. It is yet
another footnote in this history of our lake, and all of its wonderful
people.
Editor's Note: This story was written in 1998. Elsie Melby was 93 when
she died on August 7, 2000.
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