The studio is gone...now what?
My husband spent countless hours of his past in his grandfather's studio. To him, it was just grandpa's studio, a magical place where he could spend time with his dad. Then, there was no sense of Anton Pearson, Swedish American woodcarver in any famous sense at all.
He learned to carve wood here. He rode his tricycle around and around on the cement floors of each room, relishing the sound that his wheels made on the floor.
As he grew older, he pulled weeds in the many gardens planted by his grandma Grace. He pulled weeds in the summer, doing his time before walking the block over to the Lindsborg Swimming pool for his dreaded swimming lessons. Older still, he began to help his dad on the never ending maintenance projects that the old place needed. Built in 1929, by the time Jim was 14, the place was 50 years old. Once prized as a showplace -- it became somewhat of a burden to his parents. It wasn't a matter of money. Maybe more of how they did not want to spend their money? Now a young adult, he spent much time patching and putting band aids when the issues were growing much deeper. He felt frustration. He made a proposal to his parents. He, a talented carpenter and handyman, would bring the place up to snuff for them. Then, he stressed, when they grew older, they would have a place in town to spend their golden years. The offer was rebuffed. As time went on, especially after his father died, he had less influence on the old place and finally, none at all. Heartbreaking, yes, but perhaps a tinge of relief as well. In putting together this website, I want to honor the two men who influenced his life the most, showcase their and HIS talents and maybe help him heal a bit. He has said that he would like to come here and write some stories about his dad and grandpa. I hope he will.