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I was doing some research about the 1904 World's Fair recently, which got me to wondering: whatever happened to the World's Fairs? All kinds of cool things went on at the 1904 Worlds Fair in St. Louis, the coolest of which perhaps was the introduction of ice cream served in cones. Thanks to Syrian immigrant Ernest Hamwi, we can enjoy the sweet creaminess without lapping it out of a bowl like my yellow Lab used to do. Two other personal favorites made an appearance there. Hamburgers were introduced to the world by a fellow known as Uncle Fletch, the owner of a small cafe in Athens, Texas. Now it all makes sense why, as a Native Texan, I can't quit my cheeseburger habit. Curse you, Whataburger! Oh - and the other thing going on at the fair (as if ice cream and hamburgers weren't enough): just a little something we like to call the Olympics. According to Wiki, this was the first Olympics held in a predominantly English-speaking country, as well as the first held outside of Europe. I'm guessing the event planner profession also made its debut here.

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Admission to the 1904 World's Fair cost fifty cents for adults and a nickel for kids. In 2016 money that works out to around $12.50 for an adult and around a buck and a quarter for kids.

World's Fairs began, as all cool things do, in France. The first one was held in 1844. The idea was to showcase interesting, innovative products and inventions and entertainment and activities from a variety of countries. It's as if South by

Southwest and the Consumer Electronics Show had an international baby. The fairs earned a reputation for introducing incredible technological advances to the world, such as the telephone, the electrical outlet (making electricity easily available to the general public), the diesel engine, the x-ray machine, and touch screen technology.

The fairs have been held in a variety of locations, which makes sense, considering its billing as an international event. U.S. cities have hosted them a dozen or more times since the first one in Philadelphia in 1876. The fairs are similar to the Olympics in that they are organized by a governing body; countries bid to have them; they are held to a certain schedule (every five years since 1995); and cost a bundle to put on. Unlike the Olympics, World's Fairs tend to linger from weeks to months, presumably to bring in as much attendance as possible and try to make their money back.

Spend an afternoon researching fairs and they will all start to run together. But a few stand out in my mind:

• 1893 Chicago - loads of innovative stuff debuted here, including the world's first Ferris wheel. But they will forever be eclipsed in my mind because the fair was the inspiration for Eric Larsen's terrifyingly non-fiction Devil in the White City, about a serial killer who ran amok at the same time the fair was going on.
• 1962 Seattle - I didn't realize the iconic Space Needle was a holdover from a

  

  World's Fair. I feel like I should've known that. I've never visited Seattle. It's on the bucket list.

• 1964 New York City - speaking of architecture, the observation towers made famous in the original Men In Black movie are not faring too well and are considered 'ruins'. But the Unisphere still stands. I saw it when were attending the U. S. Open a few years ago.

The last fair in the U.S. was held in New Orleans in 1984, and none are scheduled here through 2020. I guess we'll just have to be satisfied with CES and SXSW.

This post originally appeared in the 2016 A to Z Blog Challenge.

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Ask around wherever you live, and I'll bet you'll find more folks 'not from around here' than locals. And I'll also bet the reason they're Here rather than There is simple: Jobs.

Humans have been migrating to improve their prospects since Ice Age hunters crossed the Bering Strait. When I was researching my latest book, I studied immigration patterns of Norwegians to America. It's mind-boggling how many people risked everything for a chance to provide a better situation for themselves and their family. They may not have looked at it as moving for a job opportunity, but that's basically what they were doing.

Migration (as opposed to immigration) patterns are slightly different in that they occur within a country's borders. Just because you don't feel the need to change countries doesn't mean you won't be packing a bag to follow a job. Ask anyone in the armed services. Or at FedEx, which is how our family came to live in seven different cities (and six states) in eighteen years. These migration patterns are equally fascinating to me, perhaps because I have a personal connection.

One of my favorite family tales involves the World War II era. My dad and his brother were born in a small rural town east of Dallas, Texas. They came from a long line of farmers, since those first Norwegian ancestors came to Texas in the 1850s. But the times, they were a-changin'. During the war, manufacturing boomed. Strict immigration laws enacted in the 1920s shut off the supply of foreign labor. Factories couldn't find workers fast enough. When war came and stimulated the manufacturing sector, many jobs were available for workers already living in America, regardless of race or gender.  The American work force increased dramatically as rural workers and women joined the ranks.

My paternal grandfather was among the first group. He went to work at the 'bomber plant', aka North American, later known as Ling Tempco Vought or LTV, in the Dallas area. Housing was scarce in the city. At first, he went alone and came home on the weekends. Eventually a room in town became available. Not a house. A room. So my grandmother was able to join him. There was only one problem. They had two sons, and the landlord would only allow one more person to occupy the lease. The decision was made: my dad's younger brother was to go to the big city with his folks. My dad would be left behind with his grandparents on the family farm. (Cue the sad violin music here.) As my dad was telling me this story, I tried to be brave, but I fear I may have experienced some eye sweat. I told him I thought this was one of the saddest things I ever heard. He said, "Why? I loved the farm. It was my home. My granddad spoiled me rotten. I was sad when I eventually had to move to the city with my folks." Shows what I know.

I grew up vaguely aware that my paternal grandfather worked in the war effort. It was only recently as my mom was telling me some of her family lore that I learned her father also came from their farm in rural Texas to work at the bomber plant. The same plant. (You may be wondering: did everyone work at this plant? Actually, yes.) In both cases, the families ended up relocating to Dallas permanently, leaving farm life behind. And if not for this, my parents likely never would have met, and that would have been exceedingly bad luck for me.

My grandfathers didn't have far to migrate for their defense industry jobs, but many others did. Around four million people migrated to a war-related job in the World War II era and afterward. They often moved long distances, even cross-country. There wasn't a bomber plant or shipyard on every corner. They tended to be in northern cities or on the West Coast.

Migration was a societal force within the African American community in particular. They made up about a third of the migration figures quoted above. In 1940, an estimate 45% of African Americans worked on farms. By 1980, that number had shrunk to 1%. Many saw the war industry as an opportunity to escape lower status jobs as well as the Jim Crow segregation laws that dominated areas of the South at that time.

The tides turned again later in the 20th century when lower cost of living, fewer labor unions, and better weather enticed many companies to relocate their operations back into the South. I never met a Yankee or ate a bagel until some time in the 1980s. Now, they're everywhere (including in my house - my husband is from Philadelphia).

I'm very curious to see what the next job migration wave will be, if any. So many people work remotely these days. The next iteration may be greatly simplified. Instead of predicting which part of the country will see an influx of workers, it may just be a matter of determining which room in the house works best as a home office.

This originally appeared as part of the 2016 A to Z Blog Challenge. 

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Be still, my historian heart! Ever since I learned the movie The Revenant was based on the life of Hugh Glass, I've been beside myself with glee. Colorful characters like Glass are the reason I converted to full-on history nerd. I can't argue with those who say history is boring. It can be very tedious if one is bombarded with nothing but names and dates and memorization. But people love a good story, and history is full of good stories.

When I was getting my Masters in history back in the day, I focused on American history prior to 1900. Exploration of both the New World and the American West were my favorite topics. There was just something about the bravery and drive of individuals who were willing to forge ahead into unknown lands that captivated me. So when I heard about this movie, I dug out my old handwritten notes (transcribed while spending endless afternoons at the university library, which, thanks to some lingering pack rat tendencies, were still carefully preserved in a few yellowing folders). This method of acquiring knowledge is now laughably quaint. I can now find ten times the amount of information in one tenth the time thanks to Google.

Thanks to The Revenant film, there are many articles online about Mr. Glass and his amazing life. I'll give you the broad details and if you're interested in learning more, that's wonderful, and that's what Google is for. Much of what we know about Hugh Glass is from word of mouth from himself and others; hearsay, tall tales bordering on mythology. Who knows how much of this really happened? Mountain men not only lived adventurous lives; they were known for their propensity for spinning yarns, especially when regaling greenhorns like newspaper reporters and dime novelists. Indeed, at the annual trapper 'rendevous' - think Sturgis without the motorcycles - a liar's contest was featured, along with games, gambling, and drinking.

Mr. Glass is most well known for surviving being left for dead after a grizzly bear attack while on a scouting expedition in South Dakota in 1823. His will to survive (plus IMO his thirst for revenge on the two comrades who abandoned him to his fate) drove him to drag himself 100 miles back to the nearest outpost, Fort Kiowa. I don't know if this story line will appear in the movie, but prior to his frontier days, Glass was rumored to have escaped impressment into the crew of pirate Jean Lafitte by jumping ship and swimming two miles to the Texas coast.

Amazingly, Glass is hardly the lone example of mountain men for whom cheating death was part of the job description. I've put together a chart to summarize a few other mountain men to demonstrate the similarities. And by no means is this list conclusive. These nuts were as plentiful as acorns on an oak.

The main character of my book The Dala Horse, is a 10-year-old girl growing up in a Norwegian immigrant settlement in post-Civil War Texas. Her parents were born in Norway, but she was born in Texas. The book is inspired by the early Norwegian immigrants to Texas, including my own ancestors.

People are usually surprised to learn there are Norwegians in Texas. While it’s true most Norwegian immigrants to America settled farther north, some intrepid souls did choose the Lone Star State.

Norwegian immigrants came to America in three major waves in the second half of the 19th century. But the earliest came during an economic downturn after the Napoleonic Wars 1807-1814.

Norway had outgrown its ability to provide enough food for its population. If you imagine Norway is a top hat, only the narrow brim is practical for farming due to the mountainous terrain. In the 1800s, only about 3% of its land was under cultivation, mainly due to Norway’s geography.

In addition, prosperous farmers who invested in commercial agriculture to take advantage of this imbalance lost out when domestic markets fell to cheap imports. Many went bankrupt.

Faced with a transition from an agricultural to a money economy, many found immigration more attractive than moving to cities. After all, exploration and adventure was in their Viking blood! Pair this with the generous land policies in Texas, and it's easy to see why so many were willing to risk the journey.

Immigration was also fueled by the 19th century version of social media: newspapers, magazines, and letters from friends who had already moved away and liked the result.

Early emigration proponents included

• Cleng Peerson of the sloop Restauration fame (the ‘father of Norwegian immigration’)
• Johan Reinert Reiersen, author of Norway’s first emigration-centric magazine, Norge og Amerika 
• Elise Waerenskjold, the ‘Lady With The Pen’

All three had tremendous influence on Norwegian immigration patterns. All spent their final years in Texas and are buried there.

Of the three, Reiersen perhaps had the most impact bringing Norwegians to Texas. He visited the fledgling republic while touring America in the 1840s.  He traveled to Austin and met with Sam Houston.

Reiersen was favorably impressed by Houston’s offers of support for any immigrants choosing Texas as their new home. Reierson’s book, magazine, and newspaper articles influenced many to join him there.

He and a small group of settlers founded the first Norwegian community in Texas in 1845. Initially called Normandy, today it is known as Brownsboro.

(However, they were not the first Norwegian settlers in Texas. That would be Johannes Nordboe, who had settled near present day Dallas in 1838.)

Cheap land - and plenty of it! - undoubtedly was a major factor in convincing immigrants to move to Texas. After Texas became a state in 1845, a married couple could claim a 640 acre section (one square mile). At that time, the average farm in Norway was 2-20 acres.

Not 220.

Between TWO and TWENTY.

The process of staking a claim in Texas varied, but went something like this:

• claim the land
• establish a home and cultivate at least 10 acres
• occupy at least 3 years
• pay for survey

And the land was yours, for anywhere from free to $2/acre.

No wonder immigrating to Texas sounded like a pretty good deal! The land was plentiful and cheap, but that was only a small part of the cost to immigrate. Immigration was booming. The ship captains were no dummies, and fares were at a premium.

As an example, immigrant one immigrant's fare on the ship New England from France to New Orleans was about $950. The fare on the riverboat St. Helena was $75 from New Orleans to Shreveport.

And this does not include her voyage from Norway to France. Or traveling overland from New Orleans to her final destination in Texas. One inflation calculator estimates $100 in 1847 to be worth about $2,750 today. Using that formula, her relocation to America cost around $30,000. And this was certainly not for first class accommodations. She traveled below decks with all the other passengers, and cargo, and animals.

After all the trouble and expense of immigrating from Norway to Texas, the original settlement of Normandy did not live up to the settlers’ expectations. Illness and other factors precipitated a relocation in 1848 to nearby Four Mile Prairie/Prairieville. More settlers arrived in 1850, bringing the Norwegian contingent to 105. Still seeking better quality soil and water, many Norwegians pushed further west in 1854 when Bosque County was created. The communities of Clifton, Cranfills Gap, and Norse became the Norwegian stronghold in the state.

 

The Bosque County location proved most successful for the Norwegian immigrants. Today it is home to Norse heritage resources such as the Bosque Museum and the Cleng Peerson Institute.

Statewide population of Norwegians in TexasCensus records of the time reflect a slow but steady influx of Norwegians.

One estimate of the number of Texans of Norwegian descent today is around

129,000.

Several Norwegian societies have chapters in Texas, including

Fun facts about Texas Norwegians, or 'Texwegians'

• At one time, Norway was second only to Ireland in percentage of population immigrating to America
• Notable Texwegians include:
  • Ole Ringness, the inventor of the disc plow
  •  Athlete Babe Didrikson
• In Norway, people use the word ‘Texas’ as slang for ‘crazy’