HER NAME IS WHAT?
My maternal grandmother, Ella Kolberg Kijak, was a very talented person. She had a wide range of interests and a loving and pleasing personality. She also had a bit of a theatrical flair.
She was very loyal to her church, Trinity Lutheran in St. Joseph, Michigan, and took part in many of the organizations and activities there. One of her activities was to be a member of the Ladies Aid Society.
On more than one occasion over the years the Ladies Aid would present a little skit to the members as the entertainment for that month. My grandmother came up with a unique presentation multiple times for this group.
She found a men's tuxedo at a rummage sale and she would put on the tuxedo and recite the following poem to the delight of the ladies in the group. She would also do it with a bit of a German dialect which added to the performance. Here is her poem:
I vill tole you bout dat gal of mine
She looks so neat, she dress so fine
She came from Deutchland on the Rhine
A couple of vks ago.
She crossed de salty water sea
Und come unto America
She left her own dear Germany
Because she loves me so.
Her eyes ver blue like green
She's the sweetest ever seen
Und I love that gal completely
Und I know she loves me too.
So give me your attention
Und a couple of facts I'll mention
I vill tell you my intention
Ist to stick to her like glue.
She's got such a funny name
But she ist not to blame
It's a name dat she got from her Vater all da same.
It's Katerina, Wilhelmina, Leibensteina, Magdalena, Dinglingsbender, Hochenbenzenslager vas her name!
Her Vater he don't like me
Ven I come around he fight me
Mit a great big club he strike me
Und he hit me on de mouth.
But I love dat gal like life
I vill make dat gal my vife.
Goodness, gracious, ain't it nice
Don't you vish dat you vas me
For she ist my whole attraction
I'm as happy as can be!
Over the years I heard my grandmother recite this poem many times until I was able to memorize it and can do so to this day.
In 1993 when I made a trip to Germany to visit my brother and his family who were stationed there I remember teaching my 10 year old niece this poem as well.
Memories - carried down from generation to generation!
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