1950s - The Story of My Life by Carl Olson

1950s - The Story of My Life by Carl Olson

   The story of my life by Cart Waldamere Olson 1896-1974

This is the story of my life and some of the most interesting things that have happened to me throughout the years, although in an abbreviated version.
My story begins back in 1894 when God blessed my parents with the ability to obtain one hundred acres of land on the fair shores of Sweden. Running through the most valuable part of the land was a small river.
As time passed they were fortunate enough to be able to build a two bedroom house, along with a barn and the addition of a few cows and horses.
In an effort to start an industry of their own, Dad used the water from the river to start a small flour mill. This venture soon proved to become quite profitable, and with God's, blessings, they continued to prosper.
At first it seemed that everything was going perfect, but then a certain misfortune struck. A smooth talking "city slicker" happened to appear, and a few days afterwards, with lots of fancy words and flowered promises, dad was totally convinced to invest all the money he had at the time, including all he could borrow, in the stock of a trainload of wheat. His profit was supposed to double, at least according to the "city slicker".
Alas, that didn't happen. It was the big' one that dashed his hopes, the crash of the Stock Market. Sadly, there was nothing left now but bankruptcy.
Within a week of this tragic event, fate struck again. In a freak accident, a fire broke out and destroyed everything in its raging path. The barns were quickly transformed into hot blazing inferno's, and not even the animals were able to be saved. Only the smoldering ruins remained, a sad reminder of what was once a proud family achievement.

With nothing left now left, other than their faith in God along with a family of love, the cruel world of in the world worse could happen. Soon, they found out that fate had more tragedy in store for them, something far worse than the loss of material things. In one last moment of suffering, my parents had their little girl taken from them.
What on earth could they do now? What could possibly be left for them?
After many hours of fervent praying, Almighty God as last revealed a way, an answer to their prayers that would possibly change their lives forever.
There was a land far away beyond the ocean, a land where the people knew only love and hope. It was the last and only way left for them, it was here to America that they turned to, seemingly the only way left. It took a lot more than courage for dad to say goodbye. It took his faith in God that there was still hope, the hope of a new life waiting in the United States of America.
Borrowing what money he could from my Uncle, he tearfully departed. The plan for dad was to go ahead first, to find a job and eventually build a new home. The plan was for the rest of the family to stay behind, trying to work with what was left, which, wasn't much. Their fate was now firmly in God's hands only.
Dad ended up settling in Oakland, Florida, where for one year he worked hard and looked for a house. When he finally accomplished that task, he then, and only then, brought his family over to be with him.
Later, in this new land, I was born, in 1896.

Later on he bought another house, in Killarney, Florida, and we lived there for two years.
He had earlier bought twenty acres of land, but it was so bad he sold out very soon. At present, this land is now in the city limits of Winter Garden. If he had only held on to it, who knows what it would be worth now.
At that time Killarney was nothing but a very, very small town, with nothing of note but one store and a post office, making up the downtown section.
It was here where one of the luckiest, but most tragic love stories ever took place. Killarney is an Irish name, chosen by an Irish woman in 1880. She chose the name because not only could it grow large Irish potatoes, but because it also looked like Ireland, to her.
After the big freeze in 1898, there was suddenly no money to pay the grove workers. However, there was at the time a man who did work the groves who was given the hand to marry the most beautiful girl in Killarney. It was a most happy marriage while it lasted. It wasn't long afterwards the beautiful woman died from Tuberculosis, at that time a very deadly disease.

My father's grove froze completely and the damage was so bad you could literally peel the bark off of tree trunks. Times were bad, so bad that money became scarce. But dad didn't give up. He planted tomatoes and then sold the seeds, garnering around a hundred dollars. He then used that money and bought potato seed and if it had not been for that potato bed, we would have surely gone hungry.
My dad continued to have a string of luck. He managed to buy a house with an acre of land, solely for the taxes due. He demolished the house, keeping the land, and moved to Oakland, where he was lucky enough to buy ten acres of land. This land turned out to be an old Indian burial ground, as we soon found two Indian burial mounds. We were so busy farming that exploration took a backseat.

I always tried to do what I could for the Lord, and, I was very active in my Church. I had always had a desire to teach the ways of God to prisoners in a jail, and I received my chance in 1952. I was amazed to find out that some of the prisoners that were there grew up without their parents making them attend Church. The Lord has given me His protection many times.
One incident that comes to mind involved a dog I had. Every time I went to town, or anywhere else, he always wanted to go with me. One day I was busy on the farm planting Easter Lilies when I heard my dog began to bark and growl. I went to him to see what all the fuss was and that's when I saw it, a rattle snake about six feet long, heading in my direction. If it hadn't been for my dog barking, its very possible I would have been struck by the snake, maybe even dying, because of the size of it the amount of venom it would have injected me with.
Another close call comes to mind, one that could have also had disastrous consequences for me. Driving along one day my car was struck by a big logging truck, knocking my car at least twenty feet away. I came away without a scratch and I know I owed it to my Faith in the Lord. Surely, he had his hand on me that day.
I bought my very first car in 1919 and continued on driving for another 49 years. During those years I had nearly a dozen close calls. One of those was due to my habit of giving rides to strangers. I had picked up a hitchhiker close to Kissimmee. After it was too late, I realized just how big and strong he was. I was actually afraid that he would harm me so I told him a little white lie, which I won't repeat here. I soon dispensed with the habit of giving hitchhikers rides.

My son, Ralph, served two years in the Air Force. I did manage to visit him when he was stationed in Germany.
We also visited my cousins in Sweden, and even went to Brussels for the World Fair in 1958. I completed the entire trip in two weeks.
It was a great visit but alas, I had more misfortune awaiting me when I returned home. I wasn't home in Groveland long before I suffered a stroke on my left side. I was in bad shape for awhile but my recovery was the Hand of God touching me, healing me and loving me.
Now, I was actually living in paradise. I had all kinds of citrus trees, half a dozen peach trees and a dozen grape vines. Also, I had two strawberry barrels, roses of various kinds, and many other flower varieties.
At last, with over two hundred feet of sidewalk, I was able to get out in my wheelchair and do my own work in my little piece of paradise, my gardens. I'm now on my third wheelchair and stay busy all the time.
I like to think that my best medicine is water! I usually drink at least a quart of water a day. I'm seldom sick now and I think God for every glass of water I drink. That habit has made me feel twenty years younger.
I make it a habit to get out each morning to feed the birds that come to my garden. I hadn't noticed them much before since I was busy making my dollars count.
We have about thirty acres of orange bearing groves, and I know in my heart that God provided me with this for my crippled left leg.
My mind is very keen as I can now remember forty or fifty telephone numbers, which before my stroke I couldn't hardly remember any. I feel as if I could remember a hundred numbers, but of course I'm too busy with my gardens now to waste my time doing it.
My wife is so good to me, so helpful that I don't really have anything to worry about anymore.
Now then, don't you think that I have a worldly paradise? Personally, I really think I do. When you have read my true story, you realize I'm not perfect, but, I live close to God and if you do this also, you can have your own paradise.

Next Article: 1953-1984 - Campbell's Bait Farm