Norman Gilbert Brakken, of Montevideo, passed away on Saturday, June 6, 2015 surrounded by his loving family 16 months after his beloved wife of 65 years, Edith died. Norman died at Regions Hospital in St Paul, MN at the age of 93.
Funeral services will be conducted on Wednesday, June 10, 2015 at 11:00 A.M. at Our Saviors Lutheran Church in Montevideo with Rev. Donald S. McKee officiating. Interment will be in Kinkead Cemetery in Alexandria, MN. Visitation will be Tuesday, June 9, 2015 at the Anderson - TeBeest Funeral Home in Montevideo from 5-7:00 PM with a prayer service at 7:00 PM.
Norman Gilbert Brakken was born May18,1922 on the Brakken Homestead next to Lake Ida, Douglas County, where he later built the beautiful family lake cabin. He attended one school room houses for his primary education and graduated from Alexandria High School. Although his parents, Anton and Minnie, did not have the benefit of much education, they strongly supported all aspects of learning and made it possible for him to continue his education at the University of Minnesota, St. Paul campus where he studied agriculture. He received a Bachelor of Science in 1948 and his Masters in Agriculture Education in 1959.
On July 18, 1948 Norman was united in marriage to Edith Johansen at Danebod Lutheran Church in Tyler, MN. Their first daughter, Ellen, was born in 1951 while they lived in Harmony, MN where Norman taught Agriculture. Having a desire to be closer to their parents, they moved to Appleton, MN, which was between Alexandria and Tyler, where Norman continued in his career as an Agriculture Teacher. Their next two daughters were born in Appleton in 1955 and 1959. When Norman was recruited by Montevideo to lead an adult agricultural education program in 1973, they built a house outside of town on land bordering the Minnesota River. Norman finished his long career in teaching in Montevideo teaching adult agriculture.
Norman was always a farmer at heart. He bought land next to his parents in Alexandria that he farmed on the weekends and raised purebred Hampshire sheep and pigs that were decedents of his original 4H project. Norman loved to ride his horses along the Minnesota River bottoms and they pulled his collection of antique buggies, sleighs and wagons. Along with his wife, Edith, he developed and maintained extensive formal gardens, and a fish pond at his home looking over the Minnesota River Valley west of Montevideo. Norman’s favorite flower was the rose and his best part of any trips he took was a visit to a local rose garden.
Norman was a jack of all trades on the home front where he either built or rebuilt most of the contents of his home. His specialty was taking what looked like a pile of junk at the end of an auction, and returning it to it’s original luster. His refinished antique furniture could be found gracing the homes of his entire family and cabin. He also dabbled in welding, machine repair and home remodeling. His son-in-law told him after hauling logs from the Minnesota River bottom with a team of horses and an old car hood as a sled, it should be on your tombstone “You do the impossible with the inadequate.” Through the years this became the oft quote of yet another completed “mission impossible”. He would just smile and we all knew it to be true.
His love of the land and nature spurred his strong commitment to conservation. He practiced sustainability concepts long before they were articulated in today’s world. An outgrowth of this focus was his efforts in establishing one of Minnesota’s first outdoor classrooms in Montevideo. His property was a birder’s paradise as he maintained many different kinds of bird feeders and plants to bring them in for his enjoyment and observation. Norman was a keen observer of animal response to weather conditions and thus was often more reliable than a weatherman in predicating what was coming.
The importance of being involved in your community was the hallmark of Norman’s life, where leadership and membership were intertwined. His love of local history brought him to devote 100's of hours of service spanning 4 decades for all aspects of the Chippewa County Historical Society where he was inducted into the Hall of Fame in 2001. He was active in the Sons of Norway and Lions Club for many years. Over the years he had affiliation with many agriculture associations and always attended the meetings of the Minnesota Vocational Agriculture Association. He also received the American Farmer Award from the Future Farmers of America. His Lutheran faith was the foundation for his life and he was an active and faithful member of Our Saviors Lutheran Church in Montevideo for more than 40 years.
Norman was devoted to his family. He loved to be surrounded by children and grandchildren and his great grandson. He continually crafted things for each of them. He maintained close relationships with all of his extended family where he hosted an annual 4th of July week at his cabin with up to 40 to 60 people until the year of his death.
Norman died June 6th, 2015, surrounded by his family at Regions Hospital in Saint Paul, at the age of 93. Earlier in the day he had fallen at Keystone Senior Living where he had received wonderful support as he coped with declining memory.
Norman is survived by three daughters: Ellen Brakken and her husband John Fedorowicz of St. Paul, MN; Peggy Brakken Thal and her husband Steven Thal of Plymouth, MN and Dr. Jane Brakken of Menomonie, WI; grandchildren: Christina (Jeff) Brakken Thal Thaler of Minnetonka, MN; Lt. Sean (Emily) Thal of Odgen, UT and Anna and Sarah Fedorowicz of St. Paul, MN; a great grandson, Ari Thaler; and his sister, Betty (Lee) Sandager of Marina on St. Croix, MN.
Norman is preceded in death by his wife Edith and his parents Anton and Minnie (Wheeler) Brakken. Blessed be his memory.
http://jpcmediallc.net/brakken/
Eulogy for Dad
June 7, 2015
How does one capture the essence and meaning of such a long, productive life as my father, Norman Brakken, whose reserved humble nature and seemingly modest endeavors are commonplace to a Minnesotan? You would have thought that Garrison Keillor knew my father if you listen to his stories of Lake Wobegon. Yet Tom Brokaw in his book The Greatest Generation also seemed to be talking about my father. His boundless energy and relentless striving to quietly fix and improve his little corner of the planet are known to many of us. He was always active and busy doing meaningful work with his hands as his quick alert mind took in the world around him. His life was grounded in family, friends and the community we create together.
Dad was definitely a product of his times in that he grew up during the scarcity of the depression, became an adult during the fearful times of WWII, and launched his career and family during the idealism of post war America. You can readily trace back the threads that governed his behavior and life choices to the positive values, beliefs and ideals created by these forces. If one could take the common denominator from all of the Creeds, Mottos, Pledges and Mission Statements from the many organizations that he devoted so much of his life to, you would have the bedrock from which my father’s life sprang. He is the personification of putting believes into actions and it guided his decision making on a moment-to-moment basis.
The primary pillar for his life centered on learning and education. The format did not matter. It could be through formal classes in school or college or informally through community education or extension classes, museums visits, interpretive centers stops, or the program during an organization’s meeting. He was always simultaneously a learner and an instructor. He took great pride in being a graduate of the University of Minnesota where he also got his Masters Degree and seeing his 3 daughters graduate from there. My parents actually planned their children to be 4 years apart so that they would have only one child in college at a time. They planted the seed that college was our destination right from the start. Both my parents were there when my daughter defended her thesis to get her Chemical Engineering PhD at the U. As we sat waiting for it to start, dad looked around and said in awe to me, “And this was all set in motion when my mother and father with just a few years of elementary education wanted something more for their children and saw to it that education preempted everything else in our lives.” Then he started counting on how many of our extended family was educated at the U of M. We got to over 30 before Christina began her presentation. My parents… and grandparents… were extremely proud of Jane becoming a doctorate of Veterinary Science; something that he quietly shared with me that he sometimes wished he could have done. Learning of course was the basis for his career in teaching Vocational Agriculture but that was intertwined with the commitment toward building a strong educated rural population as well.
Dad loved to extend his knowledge right up to the end. His curiosity on how things worked made him interested in everything. When that combined with his boundless energy it often overwhelmed us. On his visit to us during our time in the Peace Corps, he completely wore us out. Steve came home from the compo where had taken dad on a farm visit and said, “Peggy, you got to do something about your dad. I am exhausted. I can’t keep up with him. He wants to see and know everything about everything.” Dad was hiking around up to his last days. The staff at Keystone told me chuckling that they named him “Stormin Norman” because he was constantly on the move.
He was also constantly trying to figure something out, his mind actively engaged in a project using his hands. The more limited economic resources of a teacher meant that he had to rely on his ingenuity to get the job done. And that was where his creativity really showed through. When we visited he often had a job that he needed an extra hand to accomplish. My husband encountered this early on when he was enlisted to help save the wood from trees tipping into the Minnesota River. This was accomplished initially by using a team of horses and a old car hood as a sled on the soft river bed and later in a precarious journey up the hill with his vintage crank start tractor pulling the precious cargo with log chains and the improvised sled. Finally a hay bed was carefully positioned in a ditch so that they could roll the log with the help of planks, ropes and the logging chains and maneuvered it onto the trailer to bring to a sawmill. In a mixture of awe, admiration, exasperation, and exhaustion my husband fell onto the couch and proclaimed that he wanted on Norm’s tomb stone the words, “Doing the impossible with the inadequate!” He also privately questioned Norms Norwegian roots and thought they were more likely Inca! I don’t think I am the only one who has in their mind an indelible picture of my mom with her hands on her head looking up with horror and fear on what Dad was up to this time. But then, the look gradually shifted to a smirk and a veiled but respectful shake of her head when the danger passed and he accomplished his mission.
He was the original recycler of things and could see in a pile of junk what it could become. He enjoyed a good auction where he picked up at little cost his treasures to be. As we went through his home a year ago, I had to remind myself that he did not hoard things as much as had a collection of possibilities that he could draw from as he needed them for a project. Dad had intrinsic respect for things and when he looked at a thing he saw the function it was created for and would pause to think of its future possibilities. He connected with the craftsmen who designed and created it. He saw within the object a vessel holding stories… some of which he would tell us if we were at the right spot at the right time. He was an anthropologist who did not know it. But he did not create a museum, he repurposed them. Many things found their place in a unique but tasteful position in their home, yard or cabin. For example, he attached leather and metal horse riggings to an old wagon wheel and with a glass top it became a coffee table. A major stumbling block to his willingness to leave his Montevideo home was his horse and cowbell collection because for him each bell held the memories, not only for him but also of those who came before. Working to resolve this issue with him was very revealing of how my dad thought when I slowed down and just listened to him. The solution ended up being that I found a new home for the bells at the cabin, which in the end became a very big project to accomplish last fall. It was also evident in the collage we made together. My parents and I visited a Nature Preserve at Christina’s college and saw a 10 foot metal collage sculpture crafted from farm related implements and tools honoring the lands farming roots. Dad was amused by this sculpture and kept pointing at things that he also had salvaged from his father. I suggested he make one. Five years later we did. Every single item had a story including the two-person saw used by my grandfather and his brother to cut firewood to sell for “pin money” when he was 18 years old. Our sculpture stands next to the cabin as tribute to the land our cabin sits on and to our forefathers, which now includes my dad.
I never felt impoverished growing up although I now know that my parents did very well with their modest income. This was mostly because they knew how to stretch a penny, or do with out for something because there was something they wanted more or that they had the skill, willingness, and perseverance to make it for themselves. Their garden produce and farm animals really did make a difference and we ate very few processed things except the Campbell soups that went into mom’s hot dishes. We had three square meals a day. There was never take-out on the table. I did not even go to a restaurant until I was in my mid teens. Now we have come full circle in trying to stick with home grown things again. My daughter, following in her ancestral footsteps, started a hundred tomato plants this spring in my basement despite her busy schedule, 60 of which we have found a place to plant so far. Anybody want a tomato plant?
All of us have visited the lovely home and yard my parents created through hard work, ingenuity, and a delight in the beautiful. Mom and Dad knew how to both pinch their pennies and yet focus their energies to create a beautiful home. For example, the solid oak paneling in the lower level of their home came from oaks fallen from a storm on his property in Alexandria that he personally loaded and brought to the mill to make into planks. He then had to build curing racks in his barn for the planks to dry out before they were ready for him to install them on the wall. He told me it would be a crime to let all that good wood rot in the forest.
Our friend Kim found this in Dad barn when he was helping me load stuff up to take to my home. He thought it should go with the family. And he is right it is an object that so represents my dad. Three times during it tenure as a bucket it sprang a leak and either dad or grandpa fixed it instead of sending it off to the dump. It hold’s water beautifully and we have been using it to water those tomatoes!
Dad, in our hearts, you will always be standing next to the Owl as you did so many times as an FFA Advisor in the opening and closing ceremonies of every FFA meeting . And you will continue to be remembered as the time honored emblem of knowledge and wisdom.