Norway Note

by Jack Hoeschler, July 4, 2006

(LLH Note: This is an unusually personal and emotional account by Jack, upon our return to Scandinavia one year after a high impact collision, in order to personally thank people who had saved and helped heal us.)

We have just spent a delightful overnight stay at Soli Brug, the exceptional home of Eva and Willy Dǿrje-Berg just outside of Sarpsborg, just across the Norwegian border on the road (E-6) from Gothenburg to Oslo. Willy and Eva are in their 80’s but are very sharp and wonderfully talented. Eva is a potter/ceramicist with a colorful and unique style that is sought after by many, including the Norwegian royal house. She has a wonderful eye for color and has decorated their home with a personal style of rosemaling that is truly an aristocratic Norwegian hallmark – this, no doubt, a result of the influence of her father who was the director of the Oslo Fine Arts Museum at the start of the war. Willy is an engineer by training but, as was said by his father-in-law when he became engaged to Eva, “not a boring one.” He worked his career for a Norwegian pulp maker and traveled the world showing customers how to use their pulp products to make cellophane and other pulp derivations.

In about 1975 they purchased the site of one of the oldest and largest sawmills in northern Europe. A large, but then decayed complex of buildings and industrial ruins along the Soli River. They have spent the past 30 years restoring the buildings for Eva’s studio and as exhibition spaces where they annually stage a summer and a Christmas exhibition of arts and crafts by Eva and other noted Scandinavian artists. The exhibitions, which attract up to 20,000 people each, are now organized by their son Ole Dǿrje, an architect, designer, singer-songwriter who has his own popular CD and who also lives on the property.

The main houses of parents and son have been flawlessly restored and artistically decorated with paintings by famous and not so famous friends. Besides being historic structures, they are wonderfully functional and evidence a very “classy” style which today would be shown in a book titled “Norwegian Style” or “Norwegian Country Style.” The two of them made a very stylish young couple as evidenced by the photographs about the house and to this day evidence of any easy sophisticated style that any would envy.

Eva continues to work at a substantial pace and turns out a large volume of ceramics for her many customers and admirers. Thus, it was a delight to have her invite the seven of us (Ranheims, Sewells and Barbro Larsson) to stay with them. Eva prepared for us a marvelous dinner, served in their elegant dining room with specially made crystal. The highlight of the dinner was apple cake dessert with whipped cream served from large, single stem, champagne glass style serving dishes.

Clearly there is not too much time left for such marvelous hospitality.

I was surprised and moved by Willy’s toast to Linda and me, saying that we were an unusual couple who had had a significant effect on them at our previous brief meetings, and that they wanted to make both us and our friends welcome, especially after our Swedish accident last year.

This heartfelt toast was evocative of comments made by others (in Kungälv, Sweden) the night before; we had hosted a dinner to honor the medical workers who had all been so important to our recovery from a high impact collision. The theme that we were special people who had touched others in a significant way and, as a result, everyone both appreciated the recognition we were giving them, but also wanted to return the compliment to us. At the dinner, I told the director of the hospital that with my new Swedish blood (more than half of my blood was lost in the accident) I was slightly embarrassed by the compliments but enjoyed them, nevertheless.

At the dinner, Linda and I spoke before the meal about why we wanted to thank and celebrate Swedish health care and hospitality. After the dinner, Bo Beckman (our ICU nurse and friend), David Ranheim, and a number of the doctors all commented on how we had been special patients and friends to all of them, and how unique it was for patients to express thanks in such a way. They all said that there had never been a dinner or a party like that. The hospital head spoke eloquently about what my letter to the King had meant to them and how she had been able to use it to tell the hospital’s story. All in all, it was a very warm and gracious evening that everyone said they would not forget. This included our Norwegian friends (and cousins of Thelma Hunter), Anker and Trina Johnsen, and Hakon and Sissel Blandehoel, who had come from Oslo to join in the celebration. It truly was a huge pleasure to be part of such warmth and appreciation.

The feelings expressed at the dinner also paralleled the letters and emails that were sent to us while we were in the hospital. These were noteworthy in that they went far beyond the usual get-well sentiments and spoke at some length about the extent to which we had affected their lives, and the feelings of shock and loss that they experienced on hearing that we had nearly been killed and lost to them. I have told people how nice it was to be able to read these sentiments and to not simply have them read by our children over our caskets at a memorial service. This has been one of the overarching themes of this last year, and certainly of the return visit to Sweden and Norway.

I will have to try to save and savor these expressions of appreciation some way. Certainly, the party for the hospital staff was one such vehicle and it created other expressions of mutual appreciation.