Hansen Family Stories

2010 Hansen Family


Harold Hansen tells about his first work experiences. 6/2011

Harold Hansen tells a story about his dad's 1936 Ford pickup. 6/2011

Harold Hansen talks about the Scottish side of his family - The Clan Little 6/2011

I met Kevin in an Internet journaling community. He was having a conversation with another guy about the difference between being alone and lonely. This was a subject that I had been mulling over because I was divorced for a couple of years, and learning to be comfortable with being single. Both men sounded intelligent and insightful, and I liked the way Kevin looked in his picture (long dark hair, a beard, and a nice smile - must be friendly!) I joined in the conversation and introduced myself. Turned out that Kevin lived just a few miles north of Milwaukee, where I lived. Through emails and our journals, we discovered how much we have in common. We met in person when he offered to give me two tickets to a concert he couldn't attend. He was so tall! I liked that. We started getting together just as friends, going out to dinner or visiting at each other's homes. Fairly early on, I asked him if he would be interested in dating. He said no. The reason was because I am 8 years older than he is, so I'm in a different stage of life...I had kids that were nearly grown, and he was looking to start a family. Then for whatever reason, he changed his mind a week or two later. We started dating at the end of December, 2000. On March 30, 2002, he proposed to me. He said, "Cindy, I want us to be together and stay together. I can’t imagine living my life apart from you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you. Will you marry me?" I gave him an enthusiastic yes. We were married on April 30, 2004.
--Cindy Hansen

Andreas Severin Hansen
Andreas Severin and Anna Hansen

Memories of Andreas Severin Hansen as told by Jim Hansen to Harold Hansen:

Grandpa had a wicker rocking chair, and no one else ever sat in it.

No one ever touched his tools. He kept them very sharp and clean.

He smoked Plow Boy tobacco in his pipe. And chewed Copenhagen tobacco. The Copenhagen came in one gallon buckets and all three kids had Copenhagen lunch buckets. Other kids had maple syrup buckets but the lids snapped on too tight. The tobacco lids came off very nicely so they all had the nicest lunch buckets.

Viggo had a Model A. Grandpa always sat in the front passenger seat, Clayton, Arlis, Jim, and Amelia had to cram in the back like sardines.

Grandpa loved to play cards. They always played 500 Rummy.

At one point Grandpa had a job building a school up in Necedah. That was about 12 miles as the crow flies. He would walk there every Monday morning, and every Friday or Sat (Jim didn't know which) he would walk back home carrying a 50 lb sack of flour.

The farm was 55 acres, and had been split off from the Christensen farm when Grandma got married. The house burned in 1929 and they lived all winter in the granary while Grandpa built the new house.

Grandpa took care of the garden, and kept it very clean and neat. July 13, 1941, they all went to church. Arlis and Amelia stayed at the church for awhile and the rest of them came home and were going to bring in some hay. Grandpa changed clothes, came out and checked on his garden, then went over and sat on a bench that he kept in the shade of a big elm tree, and fell over from a heart attack.

Alvin, Harold & Jeanette

This is the team of Percherons that my Dad farmed with when I was just a wee lad, maybe just about 2. I'm the one between my dad and my sister.  I think I was about 3-1/2 when we stopped using draft horses.  In my teens I rode quarter horses, several different ones, but especially the 16-1/2 hands sorrel stallion. They all had their tricks. The sorrel would bite and kick as well as try to run under low objects, especially the barn door. He would also scrape up against barbed wire fences, but I just held my leg up and let him get scratched, he finally quit that. The Arabian tried to kill anyone who tried to ride him. He would look for low limbs and guywires on utility poles, and he bucked a lot. Then there was Otto, I don't know exactly what species he was, but he was huge. We never measured him but I know he was bigger than the sorrel. He was such a handful, he wasn't mean, he just wanted to go, and it was usually just wherever he wanted to go. He was a monster, but I liked riding him, felt like a war horse, I imagined.
--Harold Hansen

Copyright Kevin and/or Cindy Hansen