In March 2013, my family and I visited Chicago. This is where my mother, Joan Wehlen Morrison, grew up and where she met my father, Bob Morrison, when they both studied at the University of Chicago in the early 1940s. As a girl, we children visited the Windy City about twice a year to visit my grandparents, Werner Wehlen and Neva [Levish] Wehlen.
Werner immigrated from Sweden at the age of 16 in 1913. He never went back. In fact, he never met his youngest brother who was born after he had left! But that brother, Nils-Erik, had a number of children–all of whom we have met and continue to meet! Such is the miracle of life.
My children, Sarah and John, had never visited Chicago before. Nor had they seen their great-grandparents’ gravesites. I insisted that we go pay our respects at Rosehill Cemetary, just north of the Swedish part of Chicago–Andersonville. Very charming people at the cemetery helped us with two maps.
My grandparents are buried in Section 9, Block Sub. 1, Lot 18, Graves 4 and 5.
Now was the hard part: we got to Section 9 and even this little area marked in yellow above. But my grandparents did not have gravestones that stood up vertically; they had grave markers that lie flat. How would we ever find them in beautiful but snow-covered lawn!!! And it is fitting that they are buried under snow. Both stem from ancestors used to snow. My mother, Joan, writes on January 30, 1939, about her best friend’s father, Mr. Love, who has just died and been buried on a frosty Chicago day, “Mr. Love has a warm blanket now above him. I’m glad the snow is clean and fluffy.”