Bernard Blom was born on 30 June 1861 in Angerlo, in the Netherlands. His parents, Bernard Blom (1829-1912) and Maria Heijting (1832-1916), emigrated to America with their family in the 1870s and settled in Hardin County, Iowa.
If you’d like to see the map of Angerlo, I included it when I wrote a brief overview of the family in Family Reunion: Blom. (And I’ll offer the Wikipedia article on the Netherlands, aka Holland, in case anyone is unfamiliar with the connection between those names and the people from there, who are referred to as Dutch.)
Going Dutch
All immigrants to America had to deal with stereotypes and some degree of mistreatment when they arrived in the States, but the Dutch immigrants endured less nativist hostility than other 19th-century immigrant groups. They enjoyed reputations for agricultural expertise and an intense work ethic, but also received gentle ridicule for their financial conservatism and religious insularity. You’ve probably used the phrase “going Dutch,” or “Dutch treat,” in reference to going on a date where each party pays their own way, even if you’ve never met anyone of Dutch origin.
This is the power of American stereotypes. Even “good” ones.
Still, Bernard and Maria brought their family to America in about 1872. Once they settled in Ackley, Hardin County, Iowa, Bernard supported them by working as a cabinetmaker. Together they raised eight children who survived to adulthood. They had twelve altogether.
A Better Life
Barney Blom arrived in America at about 10 years of age, the third eldest of the Blom children. His two older brothers were Dirk (1858) and John Benjamin (1859), and Barney was followed by Gerrit (1862), George (1864), and Antonie (1864), then by three sisters: Mary (1865), Anna Gertrude (1866), and Carrie (1868). Aleida Blom was born on 21 August 1871 in Angerlo, but I don’t believe she, Anna Gertrude, Gerrit, or Antonie survived to make the trip to America.
While the United States was embroiled in the Civil War in the 1860s, the Kingdom of the Netherlands experienced a constitutional showdown between the Crown and the Parliament, economic aftershocks from the abolition of slavery, and a slow, painful transition toward a modern industrial economy. Once the War ended between the States, and the railroads began to drive our own industrialization, the U.S. seemed like a much more stable and safer bet than the European continent. The Bloms were part of a large influx of immigrants, bringing their eagerness to build a better life to Iowa.
After settling here, Bernard and Maria had two more sons: William Arthur (1874) and Alexander (1878). The older boys stayed at home for a while, either working in carpentry and cabinetmaking with their father or as farmers. In 1883, Dirk married and started his own family, and carried on in the business of cabinetmaking. John Benjamin married the following year and took up farming; and in 1886, Barney took a wife.
Barney’s Brief Legacy
Barney married Ida Slight, and they had five daughters. Four of them survived childhood, including the eldest, Mary Elora Blom.
After he married and started his family, it becomes all too easy to try to characterize the next thirty years as some kind of Midwestern, turn-of-the-century “happy ever after.” Losing a child in 1893 was a tragedy, but there were no other tragedies severe enough to put his name in the newspapers. It appears that he made a good living, raised his four daughters, and stayed close to his brothers and sisters.
Barney’s life went along until March 1916, when his widowed mother, Maria, died in a fire that consumed her house. His brother George was grief-stricken by the loss and took his own life in May 1916 because, according to the note he left behind, he couldn’t stand being confronted by the charred reminder of her ruined house every morning when he woke up.
Barney died a year later, in May 1917, when the limb from a tree he was trimming struck him in the abdomen. This is how the Ackley World Journal described the event:
While trimming a tree on Fred Trainer’s lawn, on Saturday, May 12, Mr. Blom was in the act of shifting his position, when the limb he was sawing broke down, and, coming in contact with a dead branch near, the limb turned and struck him in the abdomen. He sank into the crotch of the two remaining limbs of the tree, stunned by the force of the blow. Succeeding, a few minutes later, in climbing down the ladder, he finally reached home and Dr. Miller was called to give medical assistance. The case was deemed so serious that the patient was, kept under the influence of anaesthetics to alleviate his suffering.
The first yearning hope of the family for his speedy restoration to health and strength soon began to vanish, especially as the patient could take no nourishment, and Wednesday morning found him visibly declining. He was removed to the Miller hospital. A partial examination and operation revealed, however, that gangrene of the intestinal organs had set in and the faint hope that had centered about this last resort died away.
After a day of intense suffering the shadoys [sic] of evening brought quiet and relief from pain, the sufferer sank peacefully to sleep at about nine o’clock and the spirit took its flight.
Bernard Blom was the third son of Bernard Blom and Mary Heiting Blom, and was born at Gillerland, Holland, June 30, 1861. He died May 16, 1917, at the age of 55 years, 10 months and 16 days.
Relating
I think about Barney often, especially when I am doing the sort of job around the house that involves power tools and nature. Like, for example, trimming trees.
Callin men tend to be accident prone, and I’ve written before about the mishaps that me, my dad, and my Grandpa Bob have suffered over the years. Learning about Barney Blom’s fate resonated with me, and the specter of all of these well-meaning, but often hapless, men makes me take extra precautions when I’m doing anything that could be dangerous.
So far, I’ve been fortunate. But it’s always worth remembering that fortune can hold out for a lifetime before that one branch snaps the wrong way!
Be careful out there, cousins!
Say hello, cousin!