I'm still working on my grandmother's research notes. Today I'm in the local library, with a carrel by the window and Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau singing Schubert on my headphones. It's nice.
I just found some notes she took from William James - I like William James. I had started to read The Varieties of Religious Experience a couple of years ago, and this reminds me I ought to try to finish it. (You can get it for free on Project Gutenberg.)
These notes were bundled with some drafts she had written about Danish history. My great-grandmother was born in Utah to parents who had recently immigrated from Denmark - Scandinavia supplied a huge number of Mormon immigrants in the early days. My great-great-grandfather, in fact, was called as a missionary to southern Minnesota (where I also lived for 12 years) and met many fellow Danes there.
So my father has one Danish grandparent, and my mother does too. And I can feel a certain pride in that heritage when my grandmother wrote: "Denmark came to appreciate and give worth to peace. She developed ways by which peace could be maintained without aggressiveness in conquest and control of other nations."
I have felt a lot of pride in my Danish heritage and hope to go visit Denmark some day. I continue to be curious about what Grandma thought and wrote concerning the history of Salina. Many times I've reflected on what a shock it must have been for inhabitants of a prosperous green low land bordering the sea, to find themselves in a dry landlocked country with red cliffs towering over their new homes. I think that's one of the distinguishing oddities of American history in general: how many groups of people have tried to adapt ways of life that evolved in certain environments, to new environments that are radically different.